Some place folded fruit-napkins under each finger-bowl; others have little fancy net-work mats, made of thread or crochet cotton, which are intended to protect handsome painted dessert-plates from scratches which the finger-bowls might possibly make.
The warm dishes--not _hot_ dishes--keep in a tin closet or on the top shelf of the range until the moment of serving. A plate of bread should also be on the sideboard.
Place the soup-tureen (with soup that has been brought to the boiling-point just before serving) and the soup-plates before the seat of the hostess.
Dinner being now ready, it should be announced by the butler or dining-room maid. Never ring a bell for a meal. Bells do very well for country inns and steamboats, but in private houses the _ménage_ should be conducted with as little noise as possible.
With these preliminaries, one can see that it requires very little trouble to serve the dinner. There should be no confusion or anxiety about it. It is a simple routine. Each dish is served as a separate course. The butler first places the pile of plates necessary for the course before the host or hostess. He next sets the dish to be served before the host or hostess, just beyond the pile of plates. The soup, salad, and dessert should be placed invariably before the hostess, and every other dish before the host. As each plate is ready, the host puts it upon the small salver held by the butler, who then with his own hand places this and the other plates in a similar manner on the table before each of the guests. If a second dish is served in the course, the butler, putting in it a spoon, presents it on the left side of each person, allowing him to help himself. As soon as any one has finished with his plate, the butler should remove it immediately, without waiting for others to finish. This would take too much time. When all the plates are removed, the butler should bring on the next course. It is not necessary to use the crumb-scraper to clean the cloth until just before the dessert is served. He should proceed in the same manner to distribute and take off the plates until the dessert is served, when he can leave the room.
This is little enough every-day ceremony for families of the most moderate pretensions, and it is also enough for the finest dinner party, with the simple addition of more waiters, and distribution of the work among them. It is well that this simple ceremony should be daily observed, for many reasons. The dishes themselves taste better; moreover, the cook takes more pride, and is more particular to have his articles well cooked, and to present a better appearance, when each dish is in this way subjected to a special regard: and is it not always preferable to have a few well-cooked dishes to many indifferently and carelessly prepared? At the same time, each dish is in its perfection, hot from the fire, and ready to be eaten at once; then, again, one has the benefit of the full flavor of the dish, without mingling it with that of a multiplicity of others. There is really very little extra work in being absolutely methodical in every-day living. With this habit, there ceases to be any anxiety in entertaining. There is nothing more distressing at a dinner company than to see a hostess ill at ease, or to detect an interchange of nervous glances between her and the servants. A host and hostess seem insensibly to control the feelings of all the guests, it matters not how many there may be. In well-appointed houses, a word is not spoken at the dinner between the hostess and attendants. What necessity, when the servants are in the daily practice of their duties?