Let us suppose, for example, that you are a young man who has
been invited to a dance to be given at the East Shore Country
Club. It is your original intention, let us say, to attend as a
“stag,” but on the afternoon of the party you receive a note from
a young lady of your acquaintance asking if you would be so kind
as to accompany to the ball a guest of hers, a “sweet girl from
South Orange” who was in her class at college.
The correct costume for a dance of this sort is usually a dinner
coat with a black or white vest, and when you have robed yourself
correctly, you should drive in your car to the young lady’s home.
There you are presented to the sweet girl from South Orange, who
is six feet tall and has protruding teeth. After the customary
words of greeting and a few brief bits of pleasantry, you set off
with your partner for the dance.
Arrived at the East Shore Club, you find the party in “full
swing,” and after shaking hands with your host and hostess, you
should ask your partner if she would care to dance.
The first three times that she steps on your left foot, you
should politely murmur, “My fault.” But when she begins to sing
in your ear it is proper to steer her over toward the “stag line”
in order to petition for an injunction or a temporary restraining
order.
The “stag line” consists of a group of the wisest, shrewdest and
most hard-hearted young men ever gathered together under one
roof. The original purpose of a “stag line” was to provide a
place where unattached young men might stand while searching for
a partner, but the institution has now come to be a form of
Supreme Court, passing life or death sentence upon the various
debutantes who pass before it.
After you have piloted your partner five times along the length
of this line you have a pretty fair idea as to her merits or
demerits, and, in this particular case, you have a pretty fair
idea as to just what the evening holds out for you. When the
music stops you should therefore lead the girl over to a chair
and ask to be allowed to bring her a glass of punch.
Instead of going directly to the punch bowl, you should turn your
steps toward the “stag line.” There you will find several young
men whom only as late as that afternoon you counted among your
very best friends, but who do not, at the present, seem to
remember ever having met you before. Seizing the arm of one of
these you say, “Tom, I want you to meet——” That is as far as you
will get, for Tom will suddenly interrupt you by remarking,
“Excuse me a minute, Ed—, I see a girl over there I’ve simply got
to speak to. I’ll come right back.”
He will not come right back. He will not come back at all. And
after you have met with the same response from four other
so-called friends, you should return to the South Orange visitor
and “carry on.”
At the end of the second hour, however, your mind should begin to
clear, and if you are at all possessed of the qualifications for
future ballroom leadership, you should gradually throw off the
slough of despond and determine to make a fight for life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness. And when the music has once more
ceased, you should ask your partner if she would not care to take
a jaunt in the open air.
“I know a lovely walk,” you should say, “across a quaint old
bridge.”
The rest is, of course, easy. Arrived in the middle of the quaint
old bridge, which leads across a cavern some three hundred feet
deep, you should quickly seize the tall college graduate, and
push her, not too roughly or ungentlemanly, off the bridge.
And, if you are really a genius, and not merely “one of the
crowd” you will return to the ballroom and, going up to the young
lady who was responsible for your having met the sweet girl from
South Orange, you will offer her your arm, and smile invitingly.
“I know a lovely walk,” you will say, “across a quaint old
bridge.”
[Illustration]