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A Foreword |
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recent custom. In our grandmother's day a lavish hospitality was shown, but it was chiefly confined to rela* tives near or remote, and was expressed in the good cheer at table—represented as "groaning under the weight" of the hospitable provision—rather than in other any form.
Now however we accept the responsibility for the happiness of our guests while under our roof, and suggestions for their amusement are cordially welcomed by the hosts.
Nothing so quickly breaks down barriers between new acquaintances and thaws the ice of formality as playing at games. Beguilement into participation in the amusements of the children of the household before their bed-time arrives often makes a good beginning of which the most serious-minded of "grown upsM seem pleased to avail themselves and continue with infinite gusto. Victor Hugo says—"The child sleeps in every man, other children wake it up." An old gentleman, who had known many sorrows, asked during one of the panting pauses of a round game, the following impromptu riddle: "What are the pleasant times that we never forget?" and answered it himself—"Those in which we forget ourselves."
The average hostess is not very inventive; there is a depressing uniformity about most entertainments, but she is quick enough to recognise when boredom threatens her guests. In Part II. I hope to come to her aid. In the interchange of simple hospitalities among friends —as one young woman remarked—'' Just feeding people is not enough." After a little dinner, for instance, a lively contest of wits—with, perhaps, a trifling prize to make the victory more conspicuous—adds zest and sparkle and gives one's friends the feeling of having had "a good time." |
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