You are now ready for the dance. I have come to the house where you are
staying or to your domicile and am now in the parlor talking to your
hostess or your mother. You have been called. Don’t wait too long to
come down. Nothing is more distressing to a young man than to have to
wait.
When you came into the room I should, of course, rise and watch you
exclusively and appreciatively. Your own activities on this occasion
should be actuated by your temperament. Your physical appearance should
determine whether you approach with dignity or with coquettish abandon.
In either case I should, and probably will, be appreciative if you do
it nicely.
Things to say on such occasions are quite easy and should be natural.
Enter the room with some cheery greeting which will at once establish
a glowy feeling in the young man. Above all else, warn your mother or
aunt or cousin not to take on the obvious appearance of a match-maker.
Make her understand that, so far as you know, I think nothing whatever
of you and that I am, after all, only a friend, and a very casual one
at that. Also warn her not to relate anecdotes of your childhood. Make
it plain that most normal young men despise little girls and would
prefer not to hear about them however clever they may have seemed to
their various relations at that age.
You have, I repeat, entered the drawing room of your present abode. You
have greeted me with an outstretched hand and appreciative smile. You
are subtly complimenting my neat appearance. Let me give you a secret.
Young men of whatever age are as vain of their appearance as peacocks.
They love to be thought handsome or well dressed and intelligent. A
well chosen phrase about their taste in clothing will do more to make
them appreciate your beauty than anything else on earth. That is, most
young men. Others practice a studied indifference to their personal
appearance, going to no end of trouble to ruin the press in a pair of
trousers in order to seem slightly disheveled.
The latter type likes to be thought quite brilliant. He may recite
poetry to you. He, of all types, is most dangerous because, while
he seems attentive, you get the feeling eventually that he is a
hair-brained idealist and needs a mother and when that occurs to
you—well—. Be cautious about poets and indifferent young men. They can
make you excessively happy for a short time but more often they make a
perfect hash of life.
The meticulous dressers come of two types. One is the gay type, the
trifler, the drug store cowboy, etc., _ad infinitum_. The other type
is the Babbitt-like youth who is interested principally in girls and
work. He makes the most satisfactory husband. He will never let you go
unfed or unclothed and your life will be even, often dull and sometimes
maddening, but your vegetable happiness should be complete if you
don’t let yourself believe everything you hear and read about the fine
average American.
Probably I have digressed too far. Back again to us. We have greeted
each other and after a little small talk, gotten our wraps against
going to the dance. Your mother or aunt or cousin or friend has told us
goodby but she has not, as is often thought proper, trusted you to my
gentlemanly care.
It depends on several things whether I have come for you in a taxi. All
that will be taken up when we speak about the young man wallflower.
Needless to say there are certain young men of very good families who
have a perfect penchant for doing the incorrect thing on all occasions.
If I have an automobile everything is different. Let us say I have a
nice coupe of a popular make, not too showy but still quite nice.
We descend the steps from your house, you hanging to my right biceps,
seeming, so I think, to be quietly admiring the feel of so strong an
arm. That gets over big. Don’t let the young man think you consider
him a hairy ape; just let him understand that you feel protected but
at the same time give him the assurance that you know all about taking
care of yourself. Be to the best of your ability and particularly your
ingenuity, a woman. Let me tell you before I go farther that any woman
can get herself a man or a husband but that is not what she should
strive for. What she really wants is admirers.
Will we never get to that dance? It seems not.
During the ride to the dance gauge your man. Find out what his thoughts
and emotions (be careful with the latter) are, if any. You can tell in
this way just what the evening is going to be.
If he is silent mostly and his sentences come in funny spurts and
starts, he is probably bashful himself as we have assumed you are.
If he starts talking at a great rate, mouthing good, sweet, moral
sentiments at every breath and asking you if you attend B.Y.P.U. or
Epworth League, he probably has a dirty mind and will very soon switch
to the pornography in the Bible. That is a slur. Some talkative youths
are quite bright and while they may be sophomoric in their mental
attitudes, still they are most entertaining.
If he adopts the gay strain and quotes in reckless wise such things as
_Yukon Jake_[*] or, say, the youthful salaciousnesses of Edna Millay
before she grew to her full stature in such things as _The King’s
Henchmen and Fear_. Let us suppose he quotes:
I burn my candle at both ends,
It will not last the night.
But O, my foes, and Ah, my friends,
It gives a lovely light.
rest assured that he is a complete “dud.” He is, in the beginning, a
hedonist, a pseudo-intellectual with a dash of cynicism, just enough
to make him say at frequent intervals, “This age is decadent, quite
putrid.” Avoid him, beware! He will protest that he is an intellectual
and he will say that he must laugh loud and long to keep from weeping
so much. Beware! Beware! He is a goat in sheep’s clothing.
[Footnote *: _The Ballad of Yukon Jake_ in Little Blue Book No. 1025.]
I am one of these young men. Your problem between your house and the
dance is to determine which one I am. I’ll give you a hint. I like the
last one described. You are finding out what I want to talk about. You
are establishing a personal relationship. You are, or should be, making
me one of your admirers. Say that you have discovered in spite of my
hint that I _am_ the last young man.
I have flatly denied being a cynic and then rather paradoxically
gone on to prove to you that I am one. You should listen to me very
attentively for a little and then quietly bomb my ship by saying,
What is the use of talking?
There is no end to talking.
There is no end of things in the heart.
I should understand by that that you have dealt me a very neat blow in
the abdomen, that you are, therefore, my equal and that you see clear
through me and out the other side. By that one statement you have made
me ridiculous, yourself sage and us compatible.
If I am the first youth, who speaks as if he had an impediment in his
throat or behind his tongue, the kindest thing that you could possibly
do would be to talk a great deal yourself at first. Don’t sit silently
by, waiting for me to start things. Like as not I never will and, while
you may enjoy your own thoughts more, you will probably be surprised to
discover that I am, behind all my bashfulness, quite a likable person.
Of course I may be horribly repressed and self conscious but still for
that very reason, I become intensely grateful to you if you try to make
me understand that you don’t see it that way and that you think me the
most charming young person of your acquaintance.
If I begin by deploring the activities of the younger generation and
ask you if you really don’t think the world is coming to a pretty pass,
the best thing for you to do is to remark that so far as you know it
has always been at a pretty pass. Tell me before I have a chance to
that you really think, as far as literature is concerned, that the
Bible is just as naughty as anything that has been written in the last
ten years. To get along with that sort of person you can talk about
anything and get away with it just so long as it implies something
quite risque and at the same time deplores it.
If I am just a talkative sophomore, let me talk on and be sure to laugh
at the right places. Be careful to laugh with me and not at me, however.
If I am a well dressed Rotarian of good address, I think I said that
this type make choice husbands, the best way to get me is by being
about the worthiest business proposition in sight. Don’t think it
will be necessary to love me. That isn’t what I want at all; I want
somebody, who either by association or by some subtle means like social
standing or membership in a good church, that is to say, a church where
the richer people of the community go, will be of advantage to me
financially. So if you are pretty and well dressed and ever so slightly
intelligent you are just what I want. But if you talk to me about your
ambitions along some line such as biology or law or medicine, you are
out. Whatever your ambitions may be, your abilities for the type of man
I have so suddenly become should be simply two: how to dress and how
to cook. And there is that other one; how to flatter till it makes you
laugh inside at man’s vanity.
The best thing to say to this type of man is something about the new
receipt for something or other that you saw today. Or mention the fact
to him that you made the dress you are wearing, whether you did or
not. Most struggling young businessmen, if they are to be at all worth
while, will spend money freely but they like to think that they are
really being economical. Let him understand that you would be a very
practical appliance to have around the house. Let him know, too, that
you could and would make his home into a veritable paradise. In a word
the best way to catch the most desirable husband is to make him think
that you are working for his best interests at all times. Probably I
have said too much about these boys, but remember, they are the ones
who will have the prettiest cars and the best houses and the most
_things_.
But on to the dance. Let us say that we have at last reached the scene
of riotous mirth and glee whither we started several hours ago. You
have discovered, much to your dismay, that I am not one but all of the
young men combined and that at all times during the evening you will be
forced to watch your step in order to keep me interested.
We have come to the palatial home of one of your wealthier friends, let
us say, and we are let in by a footman either hired or not, that is
none of our business even if we do choose to comment upon the fact, our
wraps are taken from us and we look at each other again as if it were a
treat long denied. At this very point you can tell what I think of you.
If I look at you and smile and do not turn my head away but insist upon
looking at you and listening to you if you are still talking and seem
not a whit interested in whom else is there, you have me, I am yours.
But if, on the other hand, I look at you shortly, smile with a far
preoccupied smile and then turning seem to want to run away, you have
lost the first half of the battle. Something is wrong. You have not
followed the proper advice. You had best go back home and start over
or else concentrate your technique on another man than me during the
remainder of the evening.
Very well, you have pleased me then; I offer you my arm and wander
into the ballroom with you. Your hostess and host, let us say, are
waiting by the wide door into the salon to greet their guests, the most
alluring music on earth is floating from the room. As we walk, the
violin and piano weave a long bright cloak about us and when we stand
to be greeted we seem to be quite happy to have come.
If I am unknown, be polite enough to introduce me to the hostess with
some remark about me or my people. Always be careful to introduce me
to the hostess first, never, under any circumstance, to the host.
Something like this is in very good taste: “Madam Recamier, this is
Horace Walpole van Stotenbottle, whose mother was a schoolmate of my
Aunt Letitia Buhecker.” “How do you do,” says the hostess, “surely you
aren’t the son of Nancy Walpole. I knew her well as a girl. Mr. van
Stotenbottle, this is my husband.” And in my turn I say, “Delighted,
I’m sure.” And Mr. Recamier grunts.
Another small detail. A young man who gets along well with older ladies
is a pretty safe bet any way you take him. No, I take that back. I
should have qualified it by saying, a young man who gets along with
happy old ladies, elderly women who have been happily married, is a
pretty safe bet.
Let us say there is a waltz in progress. A waltz of all musical
compositions is one of the best testers extant for the dancing ability
of a young man. If he can’t do a simple old-fashioned waltz there is
very little else he can hope to do. A girl’s part in dancing, that
is, with a good dancer, is comparatively easy. She must, to be sure,
be rhythmical and able to move lightly but definitely to the least
nuance of her partner. Fortunately she does not have to lead and if she
learns to depend on the man and does not feel that she could make a
better job of it herself and try to do so she should get along without
any trouble. If, however, she has danced much with women and led them
she is liable to do a little independent foot work of her own, much to
the dismay of her partner. Avoid dancing with women, as the leader. Of
course, follow them if you like, but never lead.
We waltz away. Halfway down the floor I am tagged by some person of
your acquaintance to whom you may or may not introduce me. Either is
quite proper. Usually a wise hostess has invited several young men,
known as stags, who have not brought young ladies along. The young man
who has just tagged me is one of these and has a wide acquaintance
among the girls present. In that case, introduce me, and while you are
dancing with him ask him to help me fill up my card, which, if not done
by you or the hostess in case I am a stranger, will be done at some
convenient time later in the evening. Usually the first two or three
dances are free dances designed to allow time for the guests to arrive
and to become accustomed to the crowd and the orchestra.
Suppose we enter the room at the end of the third dance and that the
music stops soon after I have been tagged, and that the time has come
for the young males to bicker and battle over their programs. Let us
say that you have brought the young man back to me and that he has
asked me for the second and fifth dances. He has done his polite bit
and it is time for you to spy a girl friend across the hall to whom you
just must say hello. You depart, and your friend guides me to other
youths who, because of you or because of me or because of your friend,
are willing to fill up the rest of my program which ordinarily contains
about ten dances.
After this comes the grand march, led by the host and hostess or their
debutante daughter and her boy friend. When this is over the first
dance begins, which, of course, we have together. Let us say that the
first dance is not a tag dance and that we will be forced, whether
we like it or not, to dance together for ten minutes. Your technique
during this time should do much for both of us. Let us hope that we are
both passable dancers and that that is not bothering us too greatly.
Very well, the thing for you to do now is to listen to me attentively
if I am saying anything but if I am not don’t take on a bored
expression and seem to be suffering under some violent inquisitory
priest or other. That kills my chances with the other girls. They think
when they see you that I am a perfect washout. Nor let yourself seem
too hilarious.
Let us suppose for the sake of decency that you are one of the most
popular girls there and that you and I are able to discuss the various
wallflowers with sympathy and no little humor.
Our hostess not being as acute socially as I had formerly supposed has
invited several more young ladies than young gentlemen. Let us say that
these extra maidens are five of the most carefully picked wallflowers
in the world.