Etiquette

Those who use long periods of flowered prolixity and pretentious phrases—who write in complicated form with meaningless flourishes, do not make an impression of elegance and erudition upon their readers, but flaunt instead unmistakable evidence of vainglory and ignorance.

The letter you write, whether you realize it or not, is always a mirror which reflects your appearance, taste and character. A "sloppy" letter with the writing all pouring into one corner of the page, badly worded, badly spelled, and with unmatched paper and envelope—even possibly a blot—proclaims the sort of person who would have unkempt hair, unclean linen and broken shoe laces; just as a neat, precise, evenly written note portrays a person of like characteristics. Therefore, while it can not be said with literal accuracy that one may read the future of a person by study of his handwriting, it is true that if a young man wishes to choose a wife in whose daily life he is sure always to find the unfinished task, the untidy mind and the syncopated housekeeping, he may do it quite simply by selecting her from her letters.

Some people are fortunate in being able easily to make graceful letters, to space their words evenly, and to put them on a page so that the picture is pleasing; others are discouraged at the outset because their fingers are clumsy, and their efforts crude; but no matter how badly formed each individual letter may be, if the writing is consistent throughout, the page as a whole looks fairly well.

You can make yourself write neatly and legibly. You can (with the help of a dictionary if necessary) spell correctly; you can be sure that you understand the meaning of every word you use. If it is hard for you to write in a straight line, use the lined guide that comes with nearly all stationery; if impossible to keep an even margin, draw a perpendicular line at the left of the guide so that you can start each new line of writing on it. You can also make a guide to slip under the envelope. Far better to use a guide than to send envelopes and pages of writing that slide up hill and down, in uncontrolled disorder.

Suitability should be considered in choosing note paper, as well as in choosing a piece of furniture for a house. For a handwriting which is habitually large, a larger sized paper should be chosen than for writing which is small. The shape of paper should also depend somewhat upon the spacing of the lines which is typical of the writer, and whether a wide or narrow margin is used. Low, spread-out writing looks better on a square sheet of paper; tall, pointed writing looks better on paper that is high and narrow. Selection of paper whether rough or smooth is entirely a matter of personal choice—so that the quality be good, and the shape and color conservative.

Paper should never be ruled, or highly scented, or odd in shape, or have elaborate or striking ornamentation. Some people use smaller paper for notes, or correspondence cards, cut to the size of the envelopes. Others use the same size for all correspondence and leave a wider margin in writing notes.

The flap of the envelope should be plain and the point not unduly long. If the flap is square instead of being pointed, it may be allowed greater length without being eccentric. Colored linings to envelopes are at present in fashion. Thin white paper, with monogram or address stamped in gray to match gray tissue lining of the envelope is, for instance, in very best taste. Young girls may be allowed quite gay envelope linings, but the device on the paper must be minute, in proportion to the gaiety of the color.

A paper suitable for the use of all the members of a family has the address stamped in black or dark color, in plain letters at the top of the first page. More often than not the telephone number is put in very small letters under that of the address, a great convenience in the present day of telephoning. For example:

As there is no such thing as heraldry in America, the use of a coat of arms is as much a foreign custom as the speaking of a foreign tongue; but in certain communities where old families have used their crests continuously since the days when they brought their device—and their right to it—from Europe, the use of it is suitable and proper. The sight of this or that crest on a carriage or automobile in New York or Boston announces to all those who have lived their lives in either city that the vehicle belongs to a member of this or that family. But for some one without an inherited right to select a lion rampant or a stag couchant because he thinks it looks stylish, is as though, for the same reason, he changed his name from Muggins to Marmaduke, and quite properly subjects him to ridicule. (Strictly speaking, a woman has the right to use a "lozenge" only; since in heraldic days women did not bear arms, but no one in this country follows heraldic rule to this extent.)

It is occasionally the fancy of artists or young girls to adopt some especial symbol associated with themselves. The "butterfly" of Whistler for instance is as well-known as his name. A painter of marines has the small outline of a ship stamped on his writing paper, and a New York architect the capital of an Ionic column. A generation ago young women used to fancy such an intriguing symbol as a mask, a sphinx, a question mark, or their own names, if their names were such as could be pictured. There can be no objection to one's appropriation of such an emblem if one fancies it. But Lilly, Belle, Dolly and Kitten are Lillian, Isabel, Dorothy and Katherine in these days, and appropriate hall-marks are not easily found.

In selecting paper for a country house we go back to the subject of suitability. A big house in important grounds should have very plain, very dignified letter paper. It may be white or tinted blue or gray. The name of the place should be engraved, in the center usually, at the top of the first page. It may be placed left, or right, as preferred. Slanting across the upper corners or in a list at the upper left side, may be put as many addresses as necessary. Many persons use a whole row of small devices in outline, the engine of a train and beside it Ardmoor, meaning that Ardmoor is the railroad station. A telegraph pole, an envelope, a telephone instrument—and beside each an address. These devices are suitable for all places, whether they are great or tiny, that have different addresses for railroad, post-office, telephone telegraph.

On the other hand, farmhouses and little places in the country may have very bright-colored stamping, as well as gay-lined envelopes. Places with easily illustrated names quite often have them pictured; the "Bird-cage," for instance, may have a bright blue paper with a bird-cage in supposed red lacquer; the "Bandbox," a fantastically decorated milliner's box on oyster gray paper, the envelope lining of black and gray pin stripes, and the "Doll's House" might use the outline of a doll's house in grass green on green-bordered white paper, and white envelopes lined with grass green. Each of these devices must be as small as the outline of a cherry pit and the paper of the smallest size that comes. (Envelopes 3-1/2 x 5 inches or paper 4 x 6 and envelopes the same size to hold paper without folding.)

It is foolish perhaps to give the description of such papers, for their fashion is but of the moment. A jeweler from Paris has been responsible for their present vogue in New York, and his clientele is only among the young and smart. Older and more conservative women (and, of course, all men) keep to the plain fashion of yesterday, which will just as surely be the fashion of to-morrow.

Persons who are in mourning use black-edged visiting cards, letter paper and envelopes. The depth of black corresponds with the depth of mourning and the closeness of relation to the one who has gone, the width decreasing as one's mourning lightens. The width of black to use is a matter of personal taste and feeling. A very heavy border (from 3/8 to 7/16 of an inch) announces the deepest retirement.

Usually the date is put at the upper right hand of the first page of a letter, or at the end, and to the left of the signature, of a note. It is far less confusing for one's correspondent to read January 9, 1920, than 1-9-20. Theoretically, one should write out the date in full: the ninth of January, Nineteen hundred and twenty-one. That, however, is the height of pedantry, and an unswallowable mouthful at the top of any page not a document.

At the end of a note "Thursday" is sufficient unless the note is an invitation for more than a week ahead, in which case write as in a letter, "January 9" or "the ninth of January." The year is not necessary since it can hardly be supposed to take a year for a letter's transportation.

If a note is longer than one page, the third page is usually next, as this leaves the fourth blank and prevents the writing from showing through the envelope. With heavy or tissue-lined envelopes, the fourth is used as often as the third. In letters one may write first, second, third, fourth, in regular order; or first and fourth, then, opening the sheet and turning it sideways, write across the two inside pages as one. Many prefer to write on first, third, then sideways across second and fourth. In certain cities—Boston, for instance—the last word on a page is repeated at the top of the next. It is undoubtedly a good idea, but makes a stuttering impression upon one not accustomed to it.

As to whether a letter is folded in such a way that the recipient shall read the contents without having to turn the paper, is giving too much importance to nothing. It is sufficient if the paper is folded neatly, once, of course, for the envelope that is half the length of the paper, and twice for the envelope that is a third.

If you use sealing wax, let us hope you are an adept at making an even and smoothly finished seal. Choose a plain-colored wax rather than one speckled with metal. With the sort of paper described for country houses, or for young people, or those living in studios or bungalows, gay sealing wax may be quite alluring, especially if it can be persuaded to pour smoothly like liquid, and not to look like a streaked and broken off slice of dough. In days when envelopes were unknown, all letters had to be sealed, hence when envelopes were made, the idea obtained that it was improper to use both gum-arabic and wax. Strictly speaking this may be true, but since all envelopes have mucilage, it would be unreasonable to demand that those who like to use sealing wax have their envelopes made to order.

The most formal beginning of a social letter is "My dear Mrs. Smith." (The fact that in England "Dear Mrs. Smith" is more formal does not greatly concern us in America.) "Dear Mrs. Smith," "Dear Sarah," "Dear Sally," "Sally dear," "Dearest Sally," "Darling Sally," are increasingly intimate.