TEAS AND OTHER AFTERNOON PARTIES
=TEAS=
Except at a wedding, the function strictly understood by the word
"reception" went out of fashion, in New York at least, during the reign of
Queen Victoria, and its survivor is a public or semi-public affair
presided over by a committee, and is a serious, rather than a merely
social event.
The very word "reception" brings to mind an aggregation of personages,
very formal, very dressed up, very pompous, and very learned, among whom
the ordinary mortal can not do other than wander helplessly in the
labyrinth of the specialist's jargon. Art critics on a varnishing day
reception, are sure to dwell on the effect of a new technique, and the
comment of most of us, to whom a painting ought to look like a "picture,"
is fatal. Equally fatal to meet an explorer and not know where or what he
explored; or to meet a celebrated author and not have the least idea
whether he wrote detective stories or expounded Taoism. On the other hand
it is certainly discouraging after studying up on the latest Cretan
excavations in order to talk intelligently to Professor Diggs, to be
pigeon-holed for the afternoon beside Mrs. Newmother whose interest in
discovery is limited to "a new tooth in baby's head."
Yet the difference between a reception and a tea is one of atmosphere
only, like the difference in furnishing twin houses. One is enveloped in
the heavy gloom of the mid-Victorian period, the other is light and
alluring in the fashion of to-day.
A "tea," even though it be formal, is nevertheless friendly and inviting.
One does not go in "church" clothes nor with ceremonious manner; but in an
informal and every-day spirit, to see one's friends and be seen by them.
=THE AFTERNOON TEA WITH DANCING=
The afternoon tea with dancing is usually given to "bring out" a daughter,
or to present a new daughter-in-law. The invitations are the same whether
one hundred or two thousand are sent out. For instance:
Mrs. Grantham Jones
Miss Muriel Jones
will be at home
on Tuesday, the third of December
from four until seven o'clock
The Fitz-Cherry
Dancing
As invitations to formal teas of this sort are sent to the hostess'
"general" visiting list, and very big houses are comparatively few, a
ballroom is nearly always engaged at a hotel. Many hotels have a big and a
small ballroom, and unless one's acquaintance is enormous the smaller room
is preferable.
Too much space for too few people gives an effect of emptiness which
always is suggestive of failure; also one must not forget that an
undecorated room needs more people to make it look "trimmed" than one in
which the floral decoration is lavish. On the other hand, a "crush" is
very disagreeable, even though it always gives the effect of "success."
The arrangements are not as elaborate as for a ball. At most a screen of
palms behind which the musicians sit (unless they sit in a gallery),
perhaps a few festoons of green here and there, and the débutante's own
flowers banked on tables where she stands to receive, form as much
decoration as is ever attempted.
Whether in a public ballroom or a private drawing-room, the curtains over
the windows are drawn and the lights lighted as if for a ball in the
evening. If the tea is at a private house there is no awning unless it
rains, but there is a chauffeur or coachman at the curb to open motor
doors, and a butler, or caterer's man, to open the door of the house
before any one has time to ring.
Guests as they arrive are announced either by the hostess' own butler or a
caterer's "announcer." The hostess receives everyone as at a ball; if she
and her daughter are for the moment standing alone, the new arrival, if a
friend, stands talking with them until a newer arrival takes his or her
place.
After "receiving" with her mother or mother-in-law for an hour or so, as
soon as the crowd thins a little, the débutante or bride may be allowed to
dance.
The younger people, as soon as they have shaken hands with the hostess,
dance. The older ones sit about, or talk to friends or take tea.
At a formal tea, the tea-table is exactly like that at a wedding
reception, in that it is a large table set as a buffet, and is always in
charge of the caterer's men, or the hostess' own butler or waitress and
assistants. It is never presided over by deputy hostesses.
=THE MENU IS LIMITED=
Only tea, bouillon, chocolate, bread and cakes are served. There can be
all sorts of sandwiches, hot biscuits, crumpets, muffins, sliced cake and
little cakes in every variety that a cook or caterer can devise--whatever
can come under the head of "bread and cake" is admissible; but nothing
else, or it becomes a "reception," and not a "tea." At the end of the
table or on a separate table near by, there are bowls or pitchers of
orangeade or lemonade or "punch" (meaning in these days something cold
that has fruit juice in it) for the dancers, exactly as at a ball.
Guests go to the table and help themselves to their own selection of bread
and cakes. The chocolate, already poured into cups and with whipped cream
on top, is passed on a tray by a servant. Tea also poured into cups, not
mixed but accompanied by a small pitcher of cream, bowl of sugar, and dish
of lemon, is also passed on a tray. A guest taking her plate of food in
one hand and her tea or chocolate in the other, finds herself a chair
somewhere, if possible, near a table, so that she can take her tea without
discomfort.
=AFTERNOON TEAS WITHOUT DANCING=
Afternoon teas without dancing are given in honor of visiting celebrities
or new neighbors or engaged couples, or to "warm" a new house; or, most
often, for a house-guest from another city.
The invitation is a visiting card of the hostess with "to meet Mrs.
So-and-So" across the top of it and "Jan. 10, Tea at 4 o'clock" in the
lower corner, opposite the address.
At a tea of this description, tea and chocolate may be passed on trays or
poured by two ladies, as will be explained below.
Unless the person for whom the tea is given is such a celebrity that the
"tea" becomes a "reception," the hostess does not stand at the door, but
merely near it so that anyone coming in may easily find her. The ordinary
afternoon tea given for one reason or another is, in winter, merely and
literally, being at home on a specified afternoon with the blinds and
curtains drawn, the room lighted as at night, a fire burning and a large
tea-table spread in the dining-room or a small one near the hearth. An
afternoon tea in summer is the same, except that artificial light is never
used, and the table is most often on a veranda.
="DO COME IN FOR A CUP OF TEA"=
This is Best Society's favorite form of invitation. It is used on nearly
every occasion whether there is to be music or a distinguished visitor, or
whether a hostess has merely an inclination to see her friends. She writes
on her personal visiting card: "Do come in on Friday for a cup of tea and
hear Ellwin play, or Farrish sing, or to meet Senator West, or Lady X." Or
even more informally: "I have not seen you for so long."
Invitations to a tea of this description are never "general." A hostess
asks either none but close friends, or at most her "dining" list;
sometimes this sort of a "tea" is so small that she sits behind her own
tea-table--exactly as she does every afternoon.
But if the tea is of any size, from twenty upwards, the table is set in
the dining-room and two intimate friends of the hostess "pour" tea at one
end, and chocolate at the other. The ladies who "pour" are always
especially invited beforehand and always wear afternoon dresses, with
hats, of course, as distinguished from the street clothes of other guests.
As soon as a hostess decides to give a tea, she selects two friends for
this duty who are, in her opinion, decorative in appearance and also who
(this is very important) can be counted on for gracious manners to
everyone and under all circumstances.
It does not matter if a guest going into the dining-room for a cup of tea
or chocolate does not know the deputy hostesses who are "pouring." It is
perfectly correct for a stranger to say "May I have a cup of tea?"
The one pouring should answer very, responsively, "Certainly! How do you
like it? Strong or weak?"
If the latter, she deluges it with hot water, and again watching for the
guest's negative or approval, adds cream or lemon or sugar. Or, preferring
chocolate, the guest perhaps goes to the other end of the table and asks
for a cup of chocolate. The table hostess at that end also says
"Certainly," and pours out chocolate. If she is surrounded with people,
she smiles as she hands it out, and that is all. But if she is unoccupied
and her momentary "guest by courtesy" is alone, it is merest good manners
on her part to make a few pleasant remarks. Very likely when asked for
chocolate she says: "How nice of you! I have been feeling very neglected
at my end. Everyone seems to prefer tea." Whereupon the guest ventures
that people are afraid of chocolate because it is so fattening or so hot.
After an observation or two about the weather, or the beauty of the china
or how good the little cakes look, or the sandwiches taste, the guest
finishes her chocolate.
If the table hostess is still unoccupied the guest smiles and slightly
nods "Good-by," but if the other's attention has been called upon by
someone else, she who has finished her chocolate, leaves unnoticed.
If another lady coming into the dining-room is an acquaintance of one of
the table hostesses, the new visitor draws up a chair, if there is room,
and drinks her tea or chocolate at the table. But as soon as she has
finished, she should give her place up to a newer arrival. Or perhaps a
friend appears, and the two take their tea together over in another part
of the room, or at vacant places farther down the table. The tea-table is
not set with places; but at a table where ladies are pouring, and
especially at a tea that is informal, a number of chairs are usually ready
to be drawn up for those who like to take their tea at the table.
In many cities, strangers who find themselves together in the house of a
friend in common, always talk. In New York smart people always do at
dinners or luncheons, but never at a general entertainment. Their
cordiality to a stranger would depend largely upon the informal, or
intimate, quality of the tea party; it would depend on who the stranger
might be, and who the New Yorker. Mrs. Worldly would never dream of
speaking to anyone--no matter whom--if it could be avoided. Mrs. Kindhart
on the other hand, talks to everyone, everywhere and always. Mrs.
Kindhart's position is as good as Mrs. Worldly's every bit, but perhaps
she can be more relaxed; not being the conspicuous hostess that Mrs.
Worldly is, she is not so besieged by position-makers and
invitation-seekers. Perhaps Mrs. Worldly, finding that nearly every one
who approaches her wants something, has come instinctively to avoid each
new approach.
[Illustration: "THE AFTERNOON TEA-TABLE IS THE SAME IN ITS SERVICE WHETHER
IN THE TINY BANDBOX HOUSE OF THE NEWEST BRIDE, OR IN THE DRAWING-ROOM OF
MRS. WORLDLY OF GREAT ESTATES." [Page 171.]]
=THE EVERY-DAY AFTERNOON TEA TABLE=
The every-day afternoon tea table is familiar to everyone; there is not
the slightest difference in its service whether in the tiny bandbox house
of the newest bride, or in the drawing-room of Mrs. Worldly of Great
Estates, except that in the little house the tray is brought in by a
woman--often a picture in appearance and appointment--instead of a butler
with one or two footmen in his wake. In either case a table is placed in
front of the hostess. A tea-table is usually of the drop-leaf variety
because it is more easily moved than a solid one. There are really no
"correct" dimensions; any small table is suitable. It ought not to be so
high that the hostess seems submerged behind it, nor so small as to be
overhung by the tea tray and easily knocked over. It is usually between 24
and 26 inches wide and from 27 to 36 inches long, or it may be oval or
oblong. A double-decked table that has its second deck above the main
table is not good because the tea tray perched on the upper deck is
neither graceful nor convenient. In proper serving, not only of tea but of
cold drinks of all sorts, even where a quantity of bottles, pitchers and
glasses need space, everything should be brought on a tray and not
trundled in on a tea-wagon!
A cloth must always be first placed on the table, before putting down the
tray. The tea cloth may be a yard, a yard and a half, or two yards square.
It may barely cover the table, or it may hang half a yard over each edge.
A yard and a quarter is the average size. A tea cloth can be colored, but
the conventional one is of white linen, with little or much white
needlework or lace, or both.
On this is put a tray big enough to hold everything except the plates of
food. The tray may be a massive silver one that requires a footman with
strong arms to lift it, or it may be of Sheffield or merely of effectively
lacquered tin. In any case, on it should be: a kettle which ought to be
already boiling, with a spirit lamp under it, an empty tea-pot, a caddy of
tea, a tea strainer and slop bowl, cream pitcher and sugar bowl, and, on a
glass dish, lemon in slices. A pile of cups and saucers and a stack of
little tea plates, all to match, with a napkin (about 12 inches square,
hemstitched or edged to match the tea cloth) folded on each of the plates,
like the filling of a layer cake, complete the paraphernalia. Each plate
is lifted off with its own napkin. Then on the tea-table, back of the
tray, or on the shelves of a separate "curate," a stand made of three
small shelves, each just big enough for one good-sized plate, are always
two, usually three, varieties of cake and hot breads.
=THINGS PEOPLE EAT AT TEA=
The top dish on the "curate" should be a covered one, and holds hot bread
of some sort; the two lower dishes may be covered or not, according to
whether the additional food is hot or cold; the second dish usually holds
sandwiches, and the third cake. Or perhaps all the dishes hold cake;
little fancy cakes for instance, and pastries and slices of layer cakes.
Many prefer a simpler diet, and have bread and butter, or toasted
crackers, supplemented by plain cookies. Others pile the "curate" until it
literally staggers, under pastries and cream cakes and sandwiches of pâté
de foie gras or mayonnaise. Others, again, like marmalade, or jam, or
honey on bread and butter or on buttered toast or muffins. This
necessitates little butter knives and a dish of jam added to the already
overloaded tea tray.
Selection of afternoon tea food is entirely a matter of whim, and new
food-fads sweep through communities. For a few months at a time, everyone,
whether in a private house or a country club, will eat nothing but English
muffins and jam, then suddenly they like only toasted cheese crackers, or
Sally Lunn, or chocolate cake with whipped cream on top. The present fad
of a certain group in New York is bacon and toast sandwiches and fresh hot
gingerbread. Let it be hoped for the sake of the small household that it
will die out rather than become epidemic, since the gingerbread must be
baked every afternoon, and the toast and bacon are two other items that
come from a range.
Sandwiches for afternoon tea as well as for all collations, are made by
buttering the end of the loaf, spreading on the "filling" and then cutting
off the prepared slice as thin as possible. A second slice, unspread,
makes the other side of the sandwich. When it is put together, the crust
is either cut off leaving a square and the square again divided diagonally
into two triangular sandwiches, or the sandwich is cut into shape with a
regular cutter. In other words, a "party" sandwich is not the sort of
sandwich to eat--or order--when hungry!
The tea served to a lady who lives alone and cares for only one dish of
eatables would naturally eliminate the other two. But if a visitor is
"received," the servant on duty should, without being told, at once bring
in at least another dish and an additional cup, saucer, plate and napkin.
Afternoon tea at a very large house party or where especially invited
people are expected for tea, should include two plates of hot food such as
toast or hot biscuits split open and buttered, toasted and buttered
English muffins, or crumpets, corn muffins or hot gingerbread. Two cold
plates should contain cookies or fancy cakes, and perhaps a layer cake. In
hot weather, in place of one of the hot dishes, there should be pâté or
lettuce sandwiches, and always a choice of hot or iced tea, or perhaps
iced coffee or chocolate frappé, but rarely if ever, anything else.
=THE ETIQUETTE OF TEA SERVING AND DRINKING=
As tea is the one meal of intimate conversation, a servant never comes to
the room at tea-time unless rung for, to bring fresh water or additional
china or food, or to take away used dishes. When the tray and curate are
brought in, individual tables, usually glass topped and very small and
low, are put beside each of the guests, and the servant then withdraws.
The hostess herself "makes" the tea and pours it. Those who sit near
enough to her put out their hands for their cup-and-saucer. If any ladies
are sitting farther off, and a gentleman is present, he, of course, rises
and takes the tea from the hostess to the guest. He also then passes the
curate, afterward putting it back where it belongs and resuming his seat.
If no gentleman is present, a lady gets up and takes her own tea which the
hostess hands her, carries it to her own little individual table, comes
back, takes a plate and napkin, helps herself to what she likes and goes
to her place.
If the cake is very soft and sticky or filled with cream, small forks must
be laid on the tea-table.
As said above, if jam is to be eaten on toast or bread, there must be
little butter knives to spread it with. Each guest in taking her plate
helps herself to toast and jam and a knife and carries her plate over to
her own little table. She then carries her cup of tea to her table and
sits down comfortably to drink it. If there are no little tables, she
either draws her chair up to the tea-table, or manages as best she can to
balance plate, cup and saucer on her lap--a very difficult feat!
In fact, the hostess who, providing no individual tables, expects her
guest to balance knife, fork, jam, cream cake, plate and cup and saucer,
all on her knees, should choose her friends in the circus rather than in
society.
=THE GARDEN PARTY=
The garden party is merely an afternoon tea out of doors. It may be as
elaborate as a sit-down wedding breakfast or as simple as a miniature
strawberry festival. At an elaborate one (in the rainy section of our
country) a tent or marquise with sides that can be easily drawn up in fine
weather and dropped in rain, and with a good dancing floor, is often put
up on the lawn or next to the veranda, so that in case of storm people
will not be obliged to go out of doors. The orchestra is placed within or
near open sides of the tent, so that it can he heard on the lawn and
veranda as well as where they are dancing. Or instead of a tea with
dancing, if most of the guests are to be older, there may be a concert or
other form of professional entertainment.
On the lawn there are usually several huge bright-colored umbrella tents,
and under each a table and a group of chairs, and here and there numerous
small tables and chairs. For, although the afternoon tea is always put in
the dining-room footmen or maids carry varieties of food out on large
trays to the lawn, and the guests hold plates on their knees and stand
glasses on tables nearby.
At a garden party the food is often much more prodigal than at a tea in
town. Sometimes it is as elaborate as at a wedding reception. In addition
to hot tea and chocolate, there is either iced coffee or a very melted
café parfait, or frosted chocolate in cups. There are also pitchers of
various drinks that have rather mysterious ingredients, but are all very
much iced and embellished with crushed fruits and mint leaves. There are
often berries with cream, especially in strawberry season, on an estate
that prides itself on those of its own growing, as well as the inevitable
array of fancy sandwiches and cakes.
At teas and musicales and all entertainments where the hostess herself is
obliged to stand at the door, her husband or a daughter (if the hostess is
old enough, and lucky enough to have one) or else a sister or a very close
friend, should look after the guests, to see that any who are strangers
are not helplessly wandering about alone, and that elderly ladies are
given seats if there is to be a performance, or to show any other
courtesies that devolve upon a hostess.
=THE ATMOSPHERE OF HOSPITALITY=
The atmosphere of hospitality is something very intangible, and yet
nothing is more actually felt--or missed. There are certain houses that
seem to radiate warmth like an open wood fire, there are others that
suggest an arrival by wireless at the North Pole, even though a much
brighter actual fire may be burning on the hearth in the drawing-room of
the second than of the first. Some people have the gift of hospitality;
others whose intentions are just as kind and whose houses are perfection
in luxury of appointments, seem to petrify every approach. Such people
appearing at a picnic color the entire scene with the blue light of their
austerity. Such people are usually not masters, but slaves, of etiquette.
Their chief concern is whether this is correct, or whether that is
properly done, or is this person or that such an one as they care to know?
They seem, like _Hermione_ (Don Marquis's heroine), to be anxiously asking
themselves, "Have I failed to-day, or have I not?"
Introspective people who are fearful of others, fearful of themselves, are
never successfully popular hosts or hostesses. If you for instance, are
one of these, if you are _really_ afraid of knowing some one who might
some day prove unpleasant, if you are such a snob that you can't take
people at their face value, then why make the effort to bother with people
at all? Why not shut your front door tight and pull down the blinds and,
sitting before a mirror in your own drawing-room, order tea for two?
[Illustration: "THE PERFECT EXAMPLE OF A FORMAL DINNER TABLE OF WEALTH,
LUXURY AND TASTE, WHICH INVOLVES NO EFFORT ON THE PART OF THE HOSTESS OF A
GREAT HOUSE BEYOND DECIDING UPON THE DATE AND THE PRINCIPAL GUESTS WHO ARE
TO FORM THE NUCLEUS OF THE PARTY." [Page 177.]]