by Mark Twain
Now as to the hour. Never pay a morning call (of ceremony) before breakfast.
Figuratively speaking, this law, like the laws of the Medes and Persians, is written in blood. To call before breakfast would in many cases subject the stranger to the suspicion of desiring to compel an invitation to that meal; and would as often subject the host to the necessity of withholding such invitation -- for the reason that the European breakfast (now the only correct thing in our higher circles) bars all sudden additions, there not being enough of it for the family. Now inasmuch as the stranger cannot know everybody's breakfast hour, and therefore is liable to infringe the rule innocently, the canons of fashion have provided for him a simple and at the same time sufficient protection: when he has the slightest reason to fear that he has called too early, he must write "B.T.B." in the upper left-hand corner of his card -- which signifies Been to breakfast.
Do not make an evening visit of ceremony after bedtime. One is liable to be shot. This is on account of the prevalence of burglars. But aside from this consideration, a visit at so late an hour would amount to a familiarity, and would therefore place the stranger in a disagreeable attitude.
Between the limits above defined, visits may be paid at any hour you may choose; though of course one must not wittingly intrude at luncheon or dinner.
Signification, etc., of the Cards
Diamonds -- Independent means, and no occupation.
Hearts -- Love.
Clubs -- Ultra fashion.
Spades -- Neutral.
In houses of the best fashion, at the present day, you will find an ornamental table in the hall, near the front door. Deposit your card upon this.
A word just here: Make no unnecessary remarks to the servant. Do not ask him How's the family; nor How's things; nor What's up -- nor any such matter. It is but a transparent artifice, whose intent is to move such as are within hearing to admire how easy, and unembarrassed, and veteran to the ways of society the visitor is. All exhibitions of this sort are low. And do not shake hands with the servant, either coming or going; it is an excess of familiarity, and hence is in bad taste. If you know the servant, you may speak his Christian name, if you so desire, but you must not abbreviate it. You may address him as Thomas or William; but never as Tom or Tommy, or as Bill, Buck, or Billy. In the best society one goes even further, and studiedly miscalls the name, substituting William for Thomas, and Thomas for William. This is quite good form, since it gives one the appearance of not charging his mind with things of trifling importance.
When one moves in the supremest rank of fashion, and has an assured place there, it is his right, sanctioned by old custom, to call all servants Thomas, impartially. When the Thomas is a female, the designation stands for her surname.
Now as to a discriminating use of the visiting card -- a very important matter since this utensil -- so to call it -- is capable of expressing quite nice shades of sentiment or purpose.
On a first visit, the person of independent means will indicate this fact by deposing a diamond on the table above referred to. If he is worth only about $200,000, he will deposit a deuce; if he is worth more than this sum, he will indicate it by depositing the proper card, guiding himself by the following table of values.
Denomination
Value
Trey
$
300,000
Four
400,000
Five
500,000
Six
600,000
Seven
700,000
Eight
800,000
Nine
900,000
Ten
1,000,000
Jack
3,000,000
Queen
8,000,000
King
20,000,000
Ace
The Ace has no limit. It means that the visitor owns a bonanza, or a railway system, or a telegraph system, or a Standard Oil monopoly.
Having once indicated, by your diamond lead, your financial standing, you will not lead from that suit any more, upon subsequent visits. In cases, later, of great enlargement of capital, one may play another diamond to indicate it, but it is not good form, except where the tender passion is concerned. It is permissible, then, if the tenderness has not been mutual, but has been mainly concentered in the male; for if a suitor who has led a trey or a four of diamonds in the beginning, and the tenderness, after due assiduity, has not been mutual, he will often find that the acquired ability to play a jack, by and by, has a tendency to mutualize it. Indeed, it is held by some authorities that no unmutualness is so unmutual that is cannot be mutualized by an ace.
Since the club is the symbol of the highest heaven of fashion and style, it necessarily stands at the top of the deck. By virtue of this precedence the club is always trump. It not only holds over the other suits, but one may play it whenever he chooses.
Remember these things. And also this: one should not lead a club, except upon the occasion of a first visit. It is necessary then -- for these reasons: it indicates that the visitor is of high fashion; and it also indicates, by the denomination of the card, how high up, or how low down, in the fashionable system he belongs. If you are of new date in high circles, and not conspicuous, lead a small spot-card; if new but conspicuous, play a five or a seven, or along there somewhere; if you are of a fine old fashionable family, and personally distinguished, lead a high spot-card gauged to the size of the circumstances; if you are not distinguished, but had a distinguished grandfather, lead the jack; for distinguished great-great-great grandfather, lead the queen; for distinguished ancestor ("ancestor" means foreign and away back) propagated by titled personage, lead the king; for ancestor derived from Lady Portsmouth or other friend of royalty, lead the ace. If your sister, or other lady relative, has elevated you to connection with nobility by marrying a foreign person of title, this is the grandest of all distinctions, and takes easy precedence of each and every other claim in our upper society, and gives you right and privilege to lead the "Joker." N.B. -- Since clubs are trumps always, it follows that the "Joker" always stands for a club.
The spade being neutral and noncommittal, we always use that suit when our visit is not one of a deep or peculiar significance. Hence we play the spade very much oftener than any other card. Naturally, therefore, it is called our long suit.
Now we come to the hearts. Of course this is a most important card, since its peculiar province is to lead us along the primrose path whose sweet goal is matrimony.
In opening the delicate game of love, you should lead a low card -- your lowest, indeed -
- the deuce. How exquisitely this expresses a budding affection! You should say but little, on this first love-visit; on the contrary you should appear pensive and distraught, and seem to suffer. Do not forget to seem to suffer -- this is important. Observe the effect of your card upon the lady. If she blushes, though ever so faintly, it is an elegant sign.
Be wary, be watchful, upon subsequent visits. Confine yourself strictly to the deuce; venture no farther while things seem to go well and pleasure mantles in her eye upon reception of card. Meanwhile, continue to seem to suffer, as before. But the moment you detect indifference in her face, the time has come for you to change your lead. Keep your own counsel; but the next time you come, play a low spade -- an ultra neutral card. You will discover in a moment whether the lady's indifference was assumed or real. If the former, she will blench a little, and perhaps falter in her greeting.
[Follow up this advantage; use first opportunity to press hand; if pressure returned, sigh; if sigh returned, appear transfigured; if cannot appear transfigured, approximate it. If pressure not returned, sigh anyhow, as above; take opportunity to speak of shortness of life -- brevity of existence is better; refer to morning of life overshadowed, cold world, blighted young hopes, etc., and do the early grave business and "soon be at rest," and that sort of thing. Note effect. If evidently touched, lay into this lin
e pretty strong; keep right along, spread it on thick. Introduce topic of sick mother (sick mother admirable material); get her to sympathize. Work in other sick relatives, as opportunity offers -- but not too many; better leave three out than have one left over. Keep sharp lookout, and at right time, draw on your dead. Early dead most pathetic, perhaps, and therefore preferable. But be careful; do not overdo this feature; the first sample that palls on her, close the cemetery, and shade off onto suicide. MEM. -- Leave her in tears, if it takes till breakfast.]
Next time you come, play the trey of hearts. Play it confidently -- there is no occasion for fear.
You are fairly launched now, on the sweet voyage, and with a fair wind. But be ever wary; do not go too fast. Do not lead your four spot till you are sure you have gotten far enough along to warrant it. By and by, venture your five -- and so on. If ever you discover that you have added a spot too soon, show instant repentance and deep humility by receding a spot or two -- set yourself back a whole month, even -- it will have a good effect.
Meantime, keep always prepared for rivals. For instance, if you are at the five-spot stage, and you perceive that a rival has deposited the six on the hall table, don't hesitate -- play the seven and take it. Your boldness will please the lady and win your forgiveness. If your rival's heart is the biggest one in the deck, trump it -- never weaken.
From time to time, cases of doubt will turn up, but let them not confuse you, for there is one general law which covers these emergencies: When you are in doubt, take the trick.
By and by -- let us suppose -- you have at last climbed through all the stages, and the blissful moment has come for the playing your last and highest heart. You should agree upon a day and hour, with the lady, beforehand, because proposal of marriage must follow immediately upon this final play.
Let us consider that everything has been done and that the proposal is the next thing on the docket. Always propose in evening dress, if you are a civilian; in uniform, if you are in the army or navy -- with sword or saber, but without revolver or spurs. The Masonic or Odd Fellows' regalia should be super-added, in both cases, if you hold the privilege. [The lady should wear orange buds which are still green and have not begun to open. And other clothing, of course.]
You should make your proposal kneeling upon one knee -- using hassock or handkerchief.
Form of Proposal to Spinster -- and Responses.
HE: Oh, dearest [insert given name only], will thou join thy sweet destiny to mine, and, hand in hand, journey with me adown life's tranquil stream, sharing its storms and calms, its labor and pain, its joy and sorrow, its poverty and wealth, its sickness and health, its beauteous paths, its arid wastes, and all that the inscrutable hand of fate shall pour out upon us, of sweet and bitter, till death do us part? [Weep, here.]
SHE: Oh, darling [insert given name, if handsome one -- otherwise say Reginald], truly will thy
[insert own given name] journey with thee, hand in hand, adown life's tranquil stream, sharing its storms and calms, its labor and pain, its joy and sorrow, its poverty and wealth, its sickness and health, its beauteous paths, its arid wastes, and all that the inscrutable hand of fate shall pour upon us, of sweet and bitter, till death do us part. [Weep, here.]
HE: Oh, mine ownl
SHE: Ah, mine ownl [Rise and embrace -- but carefully, being regardful of her toilet.]
In case of a widow, proposer will use same form, merely inserting word or two of kindly reference to deceased. Widow will use same form, merely acknowledging kindly notice of deceased with sob, if affliction recent; simple sigh, if more remote.
If proposer is defeated, he may throw up his hand or call a new deal, just as he shall prefer, or as circumstances may dictate.
But if he is elected, he must now drop into the beautiful French custom of fetching a bouquet every day. His first bouquet must be entirely white; after that, a faint shade of color (red) must be added daily. Let the tint deepen gradually day by day, and with such careful precision that there shall still remain a perceptible trace of white down to the very day before the wedding. On that day the last bouquet is delivered -- and it must be absolutely red -- no suggestion of other color in it anywhere.
It is an admirable custom, because it is stylish, and troublesome, and instinct with delicate sentiment, if one ignores the significance which the French people attach to it. But it is going out -- at least in some sections of America. In some of our best circles a new custom has already taken its place -- and yet it is substantially the French one in a new guise. It is as follows. As a starter, the bridegroom-elect fetches a handkerchief; then a napkin; then a towel -- and so on, gradually enlarging, by degrees; and the day before the wedding he winds up with a blanket. The sentiment is the same, and the things keep better.
We do not need to say anything about marriage settlements. Among the French and Comanches, where a bride is a mere thing of barter, worth so much cash, or so many yellow dogs or wildcat skins, the marriage settlement is necessarily a very important matter; but this is not the case with us, so we will not discuss the subject.
The Damned Human Race
I WAS THE WORLD MADE FOR MAN?
Alfred Russell Wallace's revival of the theory that this earth is at the centre of the stellar universe, and is the only habitable globe, has aroused great interest in the world. -- LITERARY DIGEST
For ourselves we do thoroughly believe that man, as he lives just here on this tiny earth, is in essence and possibilities the most sublime existence in all the range of non-divine being -- the chief love and delight of God. -- Chicago INTERIOR (Presb.) I SEEM to be the only scientist and theologian still remaining to be heard from on this important matter of whether the world was made for man or not. I feel that it is time for me to speak.
I stand almost with the others. They believe the world was made for man, I believe it likely that it was made for man; they think there is proof, astronomical mainly, that it was made for man, I think there is evidence only, not proof, that it was made for him. It is too early, yet, to arrange the verdict, the returns are not all in. When they are all in, I think they will show that the world was made for man; but we must not hurry, we must patiently wait till they are all in.
Now as far as we have got, astronomy is on our side. Mr. Wallace has clearly shown this. He has clearly shown two things: that the world was made for man, and that the universe was made for the world -- to stiddy it, you know. The astronomy part is settled, and cannot be challenged.
We come now to the geological part. This is the one where the evidence is not all in, yet. It is coming in, hourly, daily, corning in all the time, but naturally it comes with geological carefulness and deliberation, and we must not be impatient, we must not get excited, we must be calm, and wait. To lose our tranquillity will not hurry geology; nothing hurries geology.
It takes a long time to prepare a world for man, such a thing is not done in a day.
Some of the great scientists, carefully ciphering the evidences furnished by geology, have arrived at the conviction that our world is prodigiously old, and they may be right, but Lord Kelvin is not of their opinion. He takes a cautious, conservative view, in order to be on the safe side, and feels sure it is not so old as they think. As Lord Kelvin is the highest authority in science now living, I think we must yield to him and accept his view.
He does not concede that the world is more than a hundred million years old. He believes it is that old, but not older. Lyell believed that our race was introduced into the world 31,000 years ago, Herbert Spencer makes it 32,000. Lord Kelvin agrees with Spencer.
Very well. According to these figures it took 99,968,000 years to prepare the world for man, impatient as the Creator doubtless was to see him and admire him. But a large enterprise like this has to be conducted warily, painstakingly, logically. It was foreseen that man would have to have the oyster. Therefore the first preparation was made for the oyster. Very well, you cannot make an oyster out of whole cloth, you must make the oyster'
s ancestor first. This is not done in a day. You must make a vast variety of invertebrates, to start with -- belemnites, trilobites, Jebusites, Amalekites, and that sort of fry, and put them to soak in a primary sea, and wait and see what will happen.
Some will be a disapointment -- the belemnites, the Ammonites and such; they will be failures, they will die out and become extinct, in the course of the nineteen million years covered by the experiment, but all is not lost, for the Amalekites will fetch the homestake; they will develop gradually into encrinites, and stalacites, and blatherskites, and one thing and another as the mighty ages creep on and the Archaean and the Cambrian Periods pile their lofty crags in the primordial seas, and at last the first grand stage in the preparation of the world for man stands completed, the oyster is done. An.
oyster has hardly any more reasoning power than a scientist has; and so it is reasonably certain that this one jumped to the conclusion that the nineteen million years was a preparation for him; but that would be just like an oyster, which is the most conceited animal there is, except man. And anyway, this one could not know, at that early date, that he was only an incident in a scheme, and that there was some more to the scheme, yet.
The oyster being achieved, the next thing to be arranged for in the preparation of the world for man was fish. Fish and coal -- to fry it with. So the Old Silurian seas were opened up to breed the fish in, and at the same time the great work of building Old Red Sandstone mountains eighty thousand feet high to cold-storage their fossils in was begun. This latter was quite indispensable, for there would be no end of failures again, no end of extinctions -- millions of them -- and it would be cheaper and less trouble to can them in the rocks than keep tally of them in a book. One does not build the coal beds and eighty thousand feet of perpendicular Old Red Sandstone in a brief time -- no, it took twenty million years. In the first place, a coal bed is a slow and troublesome and tiresome thing to construct. You have to grow prodigious forests of tree-ferns and reeds and calamites and such things in a marshy region; then you have to sink them under out of sight and let them rot; then you have to turn the streams on them, so as to bury them under several feet of sediment, and the sediment must have time to harden and turn to rock; next you must grow another forest on top, then sink it and put on another layer of sediment and harden it; then more forest and more rock, layer upon layer, three miles deep -- ah, indeed it is a sickening slow job to build a coal-measure and do it right!