BUYING THE WEDDING RING

It is quite usual for the bride to go with the groom when he buys the wedding ring, the reason being that as it stays for life on her finger, she should be allowed to choose the width and weight she likes and the size she finds comfortable.

THE GROOM'S PRESENT TO THE BRIDE

He is a very exceptional and enviable man who is financially able to take his fiancee to the jeweler's and let her choose what she fancies. Usually the groom buys the handsomest ornament he can afford—a string of pearls if he has great wealth, or a diamond pendant, brooch or bracelet, or perhaps only the simplest bangle or charm—but whether it is of great or little worth, it must be something for her personal adornment.

FURTHER OBLIGATIONS OF THE GROOM

Gifts must be provided for his best man and ushers, as well as their ties, gloves and boutonnieres, a bouquet for his bride, and the fee for the clergyman, which may be a ten dollar gold piece or one or two new one hundred dollar bills, according to his wealth and the importance of the wedding. Whatever the amount, it is enclosed in an envelope and taken in charge by the best man who hands it to the clergyman in his vestry-room immediately after the ceremony.



CHAPTER XXII

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

No one is busier than the best man on the day of the wedding. His official position is a cross between trained nurse, valet, general manager and keeper.

Bright and early in the morning he hurries to the house of the groom, generally before the latter is up. Very likely they breakfast together; in any event, he takes the groom in charge precisely as might a guardian. He takes note of his patient's general condition; if he is normal and "fit," so much the better. If he is "up in the air" or "nervous" the best man must bring him to earth and jolly him along as best he can.

BEST MAN AS EXPRESSMAN

His first actual duty is that of packer and expressman; he must see that everything necessary for the journey is packed, and that the groom does not absent-mindedly put the furnishings of his room in his valise and leave his belongings hanging in the closet. He must see that the clothes the groom is to "wear away" are put into a special bag to be taken to the house of the bride (where he, as well as she, must change from wedding into traveling clothes). The best man becomes expressman if the first stage of the wedding journey is to be to a hotel in town. He puts all the groom's luggage into his own car or a taxi, drives to the bride's house, carries the bag with the groom's traveling suit in it to the room set aside for his use—usually the dressing-room of the bride's father or the bedroom of her brother. He then collects, according to pre-arrangement, the luggage of the bride and drives with the entire equipment of both bride and groom to the hotel where rooms have already been engaged, sees it all into the rooms, and makes sure that everything is as it should be. If he is very thoughtful, he may himself put flowers about the rooms. He also registers for the newly-weds, takes the room key, returns to the house of the groom, gives him the key and assures him that everything at the hotel is in readiness. This maneuver allows the young couple when they arrive to go quietly to their rooms without attracting the notice of any one, as would be the case if they arrived with baggage and were conspicuously shown the way by a bell-boy whose manner unmistakably proclaims "Bride and Groom!"

Or, if they are going at once by boat or train, the best man takes the baggage to the station, checks the large pieces, and fees a porter to see that the hand luggage is put in the proper stateroom or parlor car chairs. If they are going by automobile, he takes the luggage out to the garage and personally sees that it is bestowed in the car.

BEST MAN AS VALET

His next duty is that of valet. He must see that the groom is dressed and ready early, and plaster him up if he cuts himself shaving. If he is wise in his day he even provides a small bottle of adrenaline for just such an accident, so that plaster is unnecessary and that the groom may be whole. He may need to find his collar button or even to point out the "missing" clothes that are lying in full view. He must also be sure to ask for the wedding ring and the clergyman's fee, and put them in his own waistcoat pocket. A very careful best man carries a duplicate ring, in case of one being lost during the ceremony.

BEST MAN AS COMPANION-IN-ORDINARY

With the bride's and groom's luggage properly bestowed, the ring and fee in his pocket, the groom's traveling clothes at the bride's house, the groom in complete wedding attire, and himself also ready, the best man has nothing further to do but be gentleman-in-waiting to the groom until it is time to escort him to the church, where he becomes chief of staff.

AT THE HOUSE OF THE BRIDE

Meanwhile, if the wedding is to be at noon, dawn will not have much more than broken before the house—at least below stairs—becomes bustling.

Even if the wedding is to be at four o'clock, it will still be early in the morning when the business of the day begins. But let us suppose it is to be at noon; if the family is one that is used to assembling at an early breakfast table, it is probable that the bride herself will come down for this last meal alone with her family. They will, however, not be allowed to linger long at the table. The caterer will already be clamoring for possession of the dining-room—the florist will by that time already have dumped heaps of wire and greens into the middle of the drawing-room, if not beside the table where the family are still communing with their eggs. The door-bell has long ago begun to ring. At first there are telegrams and special delivery letters, then as soon as the shops open, come the last-moment wedding presents, notes, messages and the insistent clamor of the telephone.

Next, excited voices in the hall announce members of the family who come from a distance. They all want to kiss the bride, they all want rooms to dress in, they all want to talk. Also comes the hairdresser, to do the bride's or her mother's or aunt's or grandmother's hair, or all of them; the manicure, the masseuse—any one else that may have been thought necessary to give final beautifying touches to any or all of the female members of the household. The dozen and one articles from the caterer are meantime being carried in at the basement door; made dishes, and dishes in the making, raw materials of which others are to be made; folding chairs, small tables, chinaware, glassware, napery, knives, forks and spoons—it is a struggle to get in or out of the kitchen or area door.

The bride's mother consults the florist for the third and last time as to whether the bridal couple had not better receive in the library because of the bay window which lends itself easily to the decoration of a background, and because the room, is, if anything, larger than the drawing-room. And for the third time, the florist agrees about the advantage of the window but points out that the library has only one narrow door and that the drawing-room is much better, because it has two wide ones and guests going into the room will not be blocked in the doorway by others coming out.

The best man turns up and wants the bride's luggage.

The head usher comes to ask whether the Joneses to be seated in the fourth pew are the tall dark ones or the blond ones, and whether he had not better put some of the Titheringtons who belong in the eighth pew also in the seventh, as there are nine Titheringtons and the Eminents in the seventh pew are only four.

A bridesmaid-elect hurries up the steps, runs into the best man carrying out the luggage; much conversation and giggling and guessing as to where the luggage is going. Best man very important, also very noble and silent. Bridesmaid shrugs her shoulders, dashes up to the bride's room and dashes down again.

More presents arrive. The furniture movers have come and are carting lumps of heaviness up the stairs to the attic and down the stairs to the cellar. It is all very like an ant-hill. Some are steadily going forward with the business in hand, but others who have become quite bewildered, seem to be scurrying aimlessly this way and that, picking something up only to put it down again.

THE DRAWING-ROOM

Here, where the bride and groom are to receive, one can not tell yet what the decoration is to be. Perhaps it is a hedged-in garden scene, a palm grove, a flowering recess, a screen and canopy of wedding bells—but a bower of foliage of some sort is gradually taking shape.

THE DINING-ROOM

The dining-room, too, blossoms with plants and flowers. Perhaps its space and that of a tent adjoining is filled with little tables, or perhaps a single row of camp chairs stands flat against the walls, and in the center of the room, the dining table pulled out to its farthest extent, is being decked with trimmings and utensils which will be needed later when the spaces left at intervals for various dishes shall be occupied. Preparation of these dishes is meanwhile going on in the kitchen.

THE KITCHEN

The caterer's chefs in white cook's caps and aprons are in possession of the situation, and their assistants run here and there, bringing ingredients as they are told; or perhaps the caterer brings everything already prepared, in which case the waiters are busy unpacking the big tin boxes and placing the bain-marie (a sort of fireless cooker receptacle in a tank of hot water) from which the hot food is to be served. Huge tubs of cracked ice in which the ice cream containers are buried are already standing in the shade of the areaway or in the back yard.

LAST PREPARATIONS

Back again in the drawing-room, the florist and his assistants are still tying and tacking and arranging and adjusting branches and garlands and sheaves and bunches, and the floor is a litter of twigs and strings and broken branches. The photographer is asking that the central decoration be finished so he can group his pictures, the florist assures him that he is as busy as possible.

The house is as cold as open windows can make it, to keep the flowers fresh, and to avoid stuffiness. The door-bell continues its ringing, and the parlor maid finds herself a contestant in a marathon, until some one decides that card envelopes and telegrams had better be left in the front hall.

A first bridesmaid arrives. She at least is on time. All decoration activity stops while she is looked at and admired. Panic seizes some one! The time is too short, nothing will be ready! Some one else says the bridesmaid is far too early, there is no end of time.

Upstairs everyone is still dressing. The father of the bride (one would suppose him to be the bridegroom at least) is trying on most of his shirts, the floor strewn with discarded collars! The mother of the bride is hurrying into her wedding array so as to be ready for any emergency, as well as to superintend the finishing touches to her daughter's dress and veil.

THE WEDDING DRESS

Everyone knows what a wedding dress is like. It may be of any white material, satin, brocade, velvet, chiffon or entirely of lace. It may be embroidered in pearls, crystals or silver; or it may be as plain as a slip-cover—anything in fact that the bride fancies, and made in whatever fashion or period she may choose.

As for her veil in its combination of lace or tulle and orange blossoms, perhaps it is copied from a head-dress of Egypt or China, or from the severe drapery of Rebecca herself, or proclaim the knowing touch of the Rue de la Paix. It may have a cap, like that of a lady in a French print, or fall in clouds of tulle from under a little wreath, such as might be worn by a child Queen of the May.

The origin of the bridal veil is an unsettled question.

Roman brides wore "yellow veils," and veils were used in the ancient Hebrew marriage ceremony. The veil as we use it may be a substitute for the flowing tresses which in old times fell like a mantle modestly concealing the bride's face and form; or it may be an amplification of the veil which medieval fashion added to every head-dress.

In olden days the garland rather than the veil seems to have been of greatest importance. The garland was the "coronet of the good girl," and her right to wear it was her inalienable attribute of virtue.

Very old books speak of three ornaments that every virtuous bride must wear, "a ring on her finger, a brooch on her breast and a garland on her head."

A bride who had no dowry of gold was said nevertheless to bring her husband great treasure, if she brought him a garland—in other words, a virtuous wife.

At present the veil is usually mounted by a milliner on a made foundation, so that it need merely be put on—but every young girl has an idea of how she personally wants her wedding veil and may choose rather to put it together herself or have it done by some particular friend, whose taste and skill she especially admires.

If she chooses to wear a veil over her face up the aisle and during the ceremony, the front veil is always a short separate piece about a yard square, gathered on an invisible band, and pinned with a hair pin at either side, after the long veil is arranged. It is taken off by the maid of honor when she gives back the bride's bouquet at the conclusion of the ceremony.

The face veil is a rather old-fashioned custom, and is appropriate only for a very young bride of a demure type; the tradition being that a maiden is too shy to face a congregation unveiled, and shows her face only when she is a married woman.

Some brides prefer to remove their left glove by merely pulling it inside out at the altar. Usually the under seam of the wedding finger of her glove is ripped for about two inches and she need only pull the tip off to have the ring put on. Or, if the wedding is a small one, she wears no gloves at all.

Brides have been known to choose colors other than white. Cloth of silver is quite conventional and so is very deep cream, but cloth of gold suggests the habiliment of a widow rather than that of a virgin maid—of which the white and orange blossoms, or myrtle leaf, are the emblems.

If a bride chooses to be married in traveling dress, she has no bridesmaids, though she often has a maid of honor. A "traveling" dress is either a "tailor made" if she is going directly on a boat or train, or a morning or afternoon dress—whatever she would "wear away" after a big wedding.

But to return to our particular bride; everyone seemingly is in her room, her mother, her grandmother, three aunts, two cousins, three bridesmaids, four small children, two friends, her maid, the dressmaker and an assistant. Every little while, the parlor-maid brings a message or a package. Her father comes in and goes out at regular intervals, in sheer nervousness. The rest of the bridesmaids gradually appear and distract the attention of the audience so that the bride has moments of being allowed to dress undisturbed. At last even her veil is adjusted and all present gasp their approval: "How sweet!" "Dearest, you are too lovely!" and "Darling, how wonderful you look!"

Her father reappears: "If you are going to have the pictures taken, you had better all hurry!"

"Oh, Mary," shouts some one, "what have you on that is

Something old, something new, Something borrowed, something blue, And a lucky sixpence in your shoe!"

"Let me see," says the bride, "'old,' I have old lace; 'new,' I have lots of new! 'Borrowed,' and 'blue'?" A chorus of voices: "Wear my ring," "Wear my pin," "Wear mine! It's blue!" and some one's pin which has a blue stone in it, is fastened on under the trimming of her dress and serves both needs. If the lucky sixpence (a dime will do) is produced, she must at least pay discomfort for her "luck."

Again some one suggests the photographer is waiting and time is short. Having pictures taken before the ceremony is a dull custom, because it is tiring to sit for one's photograph at best, and to attempt anything so delaying as posing at the moment when the procession ought to be starting, is as trying to the nerves as it is exhausting, and more than one wedding procession has consisted of very "dragged out" young women in consequence.

At a country wedding it is very easy to take the pictures out on the lawn at the end of the reception and just before the bride goes to dress. Sometimes in a town house, they are taken in an up-stairs room at that same hour; but usually the bride is dressed and her bridesmaids arrive at her house fully half an hour before the time necessary to leave for the church, and pictures of the group are taken as well as several of the bride alone—with special lights—against the background where she will stand and receive.

PROCESSION TO CHURCH

Whether the pictures are taken before the wedding or after, the bridesmaids always meet at the house of the bride, where they also receive their bouquets. When it is time to go to the church, there are several carriages or motors drawn up at the house. The bride's mother drives away in the first, usually alone, or she may, if she chooses, take one or two bridesmaids in her car, but she must reserve room for her husband who will return from church with her. The maid of honor, bridesmaids and flower girls go in the next vehicles, which may be their own or else are supplied by the bride's family; and last of all, comes the bride's carriage, which always has a wedding appearance. If it is a brougham, the horses' headpieces are decorated with white flowers and the coachman wears a white boutonniere; if it is a motor, the chauffeur wears a small bunch of white flowers on his coat, and white gloves, and has all the tires painted white to give the car a wedding appearance. The bride drives to the church with her father only. Her carriage arrives last of the procession, and stands without moving, in front of the awning, until she and her husband (in place of her father) return from the ceremony and drive back to the house for the breakfast or reception.

If she has no father, this part is taken by an uncle, a brother, a cousin, her guardian, or other close male connection of her family.

If it should happen that the bride has neither father nor very near male relative, or guardian, she walks up the aisle alone. At the point in the ceremony when the clergyman asks who gives the bride, if the betrothal is read at the chancel steps, her mother goes forward and performs the office in exactly the same way that her father would have done.

If the entire ceremony is at the altar, the mother merely stays where she is standing in her proper place at the end of the first pew on the left, and says very distinctly, "I do."

AT THE CHURCH

Meanwhile, about an hour before the time for the ceremony, the ushers arrive at the church and the sexton turns his guardianship over to them. They leave their hats in the vestry, or coat room. Their boutonnieres, sent by the groom, should be waiting in the vestibule. They should be in charge of a boy from the florist's, who has nothing else on his mind but to see that they are there, that they are fresh and that the ushers get them. Each man puts one in his buttonhole, and also puts on his gloves. The head usher decides (or the groom has already told them) to which ushers are apportioned the center, and to which the side aisles. If it is a big church with side aisles and gallery, and there are only six ushers, four will be put in the center aisle, and two in the side. Guests who choose to sit up in the gallery find places for themselves.

Often, at a big wedding, the sexton or one of his assistants guards the entrance to the gallery and admission is reserved by cards for the employees of both families, but usually the gallery is open to those who care to go up. An usher whose "place" is in the side aisle may escort occasional personal friends of his own down the center aisle if he happens to be unoccupied at the moment of their entrance. Those of the ushers who are the most likely to recognize the various close friends and members of each family are invariably detailed to the center aisle. A brother of the bride, for instance, is always chosen for this aisle because he is best fitted to look out for his own relatives and to place them according to their near or distant kinship. A second usher should be either a brother of the groom or a near relative who would be able to recognize the family and close friends of the groom.

The first six to twenty pews on both sides of the center aisle are fenced off with white ribbons into a reserved enclosure. The parents of the bride always sit in the first pew on the left (facing the chancel); the parents of the groom always sit in the first pew on the right. The right hand side of the church is the groom's side always, the left is that of the bride.

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SEATING THE GUESTS

It is the duty of the ushers to show all guests to their places. An usher offers his arm to each lady as she arrives, whether he knows her personally or not. If the vestibule is very crowded and several ladies are together, he sometimes gives his arm to the older and asks the others to follow. But this is not done unless the crowd is great and the time short.

If the usher thinks a guest belongs in front of the ribbons though she fails to present her card, he always asks at once "Have you a pew number?" If she has, he then shows her to her place. If she has none, he asks whether she prefers to sit on the bride's side or the groom's and gives her the best seat vacant in the unreserved part of the church. He generally makes a few polite remarks as he takes her up the aisle. Such as:

"I am so sorry you came late, all the good seats are taken further up." Or "Isn't it lucky they have such a beautiful day?" or "Too bad it is raining." Or, perhaps the lady is first in making a similar remark or two to him.

Whatever conversation there is, is carried on in a low voice, not, however, whispered or solemn. The deportment of the ushers should be natural but at the same time dignified and quiet in consideration of the fact that they are in church. They must not trot up and down the aisles in a bustling manner; yet they must be fairly agile, as the vestibule is packed with guests who have all to be seated as expeditiously as possible.

The guests without reserved cards should arrive first in order to find good places; then come the reserved seat guests; and lastly, the immediate members of the families, who all have especial places in the front pews held for them.

It is not customary for one who is in deep mourning to go to a wedding, but there can be little criticism of an intimate friend who takes a place in the gallery of the church from which she can see the ceremony and yet be apart from the wedding guests. At a wedding that is necessarily small because of mourning, the women of the family usually lay aside black for that one occasion and wear white.

In Front of the Ribbons

There are two ways in which people "in front of the ribbons" are seated. The less efficient way is by means of a typewritten list of those for whom seats are reserved and of the pews in which they are to be seated, given to each usher, who has read it over for each guest who arrives at the church. From every point of view, the typewritten list is bad; first, it wastes time, and as everyone arrives at the same moment, and every lady is supposed to be taken personally up the aisle "on the arm" of an usher, the time consumed while each usher looks up each name on several gradually rumpling or tearing sheets of paper is easily imagined. Besides which, one who is at all intimate with either family can not help feeling in some degree slighted when, on giving one's name, the usher looks for it in vain.

The second, and far better method, is to have a pew card sent, enclosed with the wedding invitation, or an inscribed visiting card sent by either family. A guest who has a card with "Pew No. 12" on it, knows, and the usher knows, exactly where she is to go. Or if she has a card saying "Reserved" or "Before the ribbons" or any special mark that means in the reserved section but no especial pew, the usher puts her in the "best position available" behind the first two or three numbered rows that are saved for the immediate family, and in front of the ribbons marking the reserved enclosure.

It is sometimes well for the head usher to ask the bride's mother if she is sure she has allowed enough pews in the reserved section to seat all those with cards. Arranging definite seat numbers has one disadvantage; one pew may have every seat occupied and another may be almost empty. In that case an usher can, just before the procession is to form, shift a certain few people out of the crowded pews into the others. But it would be a breach of etiquette for people to re-seat themselves, and no one should be seated after the entrance of the bride's mother.

THE BRIDEGROOM WAITS

Meanwhile, about fifteen minutes before the wedding hour, the groom and his best man—both in morning coats, top-hats, boutonnieres and white buckskin (but remember not shiny) gloves, walk or drive to the church and enter the side door which leads to the vestry. There they sit, or in the clergyman's study, until the sexton or an usher comes to say that the bride has arrived.

THE PERFECTLY MANAGED WEDDING

At a perfectly managed wedding, the bride arrives exactly one minute (to give a last comer time to find place) after the hour. Two or three servants have been sent to wait in the vestibule to help the bride and bridesmaids off with their wraps and hold them until they are needed after the ceremony. The groom's mother and father also are waiting in the vestibule. As the carriage of the bride's mother drives up, an usher goes as quickly as he can to tell the groom, and any brothers or sisters of the bride or groom, who are not to take part in the wedding procession and have arrived in their mother's carriage, are now taken by ushers to their places in the front pews. The moment the entire wedding party is at the church, the doors between the vestibule and the church are closed. No one is seated after this, except the parents of the young couple. The proper procedure should be carried out with military exactness, and is as follows:

The groom's mother goes down the aisle on the arm of the head usher and takes her place in the first pew on the right; the groom's father follows alone, and takes his place beside her; the same usher returns to the vestibule and immediately escorts the bride's mother; he should then have time to return to the vestibule and take his place in the procession. The beginning of the wedding march should sound just as the usher returns to the head of the aisle. To repeat: No other person should be seated after the mother of the bride. Guests who arrive later must stand in the vestibule or go into the gallery.

The sound of the music is also the cue for the clergyman to enter the chancel, followed by the groom and his best man. The two latter wear gloves but have left their hats and sticks in the vestry-room.

The groom stands on the right hand side at the head of the aisle, but if the vestry opens into the chancel, he sometimes stands at the top of the first few steps. He removes his right glove and holds it in his left hand. The best man remains always directly back and to the right of the groom, and does not remove his glove.

HERE COMES THE BRIDE

The description of the procession is given in detail on a preceding page in the "Wedding Rehearsal" section.

Starting on the right measure and keeping perfect time, the ushers come, two by two, four paces apart; then the bridesmaids (if any) at the same distance exactly; then the maid of honor alone; then the flower girls (if any); then, at a double distance, the bride on her father's right arm. She is dressed always in white, with a veil of lace or tulle. Usually she carries a bridal bouquet of white flowers, either short, or with streamers (narrow ribbons with little bunches of blossoms on the end of each) or trailing vines, or maybe she holds a long sheaf of stiff flowers such as lilies on her arm. Or perhaps she carries a prayer book instead of a bouquet.

THE GROOM COMES FORWARD TO MEET THE BRIDE

As the bride approaches, the groom waits at the foot of the steps (unless he comes down the steps to meet her). The bride relinquishes her father's arm, changes her bouquet from her right to her left, and gives her right hand to the groom. The groom, taking her hand in his right puts it through his left arm—just her finger tips should rest near the bend of his elbow—and turns to face the chancel as he does so. It does not matter whether she takes his arm or whether they stand hand in hand at the foot of the chancel in front of the clergyman.

HER FATHER GIVES HER AWAY

Her father has remained where she left him, on her left and a step or two behind her. The clergyman stands a step or two above them, and reads the betrothal. When he says "Who giveth this woman to be married?" the father goes forward, still on her left, and half way between her and the clergyman, but not in front of either, the bride turns slightly toward her father, and gives him her right hand, the father puts her hand into that of the clergyman and says at the same moment: "I do!" He then takes his place next to his wife at the end of the first pew on the left.

THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY

A soloist or the choir then sings while the clergyman slowly ascends to the altar, before which the marriage is performed. The bride and groom follow slowly, the fingers of her right hand on his left arm.

The maid of honor, or else the first bridesmaid, moves out of line and follows on the left hand side until she stands immediately below the bride. The best man takes the same position exactly on the right behind the groom. At the termination of the anthem, the bride hands her bouquet to the maid of honor (or her prayer-book to the clergyman) and the bride and groom plight their troth.

When it is time for the ring, the best man produces it from his pocket. If in the handling from best man to groom, to clergyman, to groom again, and finally to the bride's finger, it should slip and fall, the best man must pick it up if he can without searching; if not, he quietly produces the duplicate which all careful best men carry in the other waistcoat pocket, and the ceremony proceeds. The lost ring—or the unused extra one—is returned to the jeweler's next day. Which ring, under the circumstances, the bride keeps, is a question as hard to answer as that of the Lady or the Tiger. Would she prefer the substitute ring that was actually the one she was married with? Or the one her husband bought and had marked for her? Or would she prefer not to have a substitute ring and have the whole wedding party on their knees searching? She alone can decide. Fortunately, even if the clergyman is very old and his hand shaky, a substitute is seldom necessary.

The wedding ring must not be put above the engagement ring. On her wedding day a bride either leaves her engagement ring at home when she goes to church or wears it on her right hand.

AFTER THE CEREMONY

At the conclusion of the ceremony, the minister congratulates the new couple. The organ begins the recessional. The bride takes her bouquet from her maid of honor (who removes the veil if she wore one over her face). She then turns toward her husband—her bouquet in her right hand—and puts her left hand through his right arm, and they descend the steps.

The maid of honor, handing her own bouquet to a second bridesmaid, follows a short distance after the bride, at the same time stooping and straightening out the long train and veil. The bride and groom go on down the aisle. The best man disappears into the vestry room. At a perfectly conducted wedding he does not walk down the aisle with the maid of honor. The maid of honor recovers her bouquet and walks alone. If a bridesmaid performs the office of maid of honor, she takes her place among her companion bridesmaids who go next; and the ushers go last.

The best man has meanwhile collected the groom's belongings and dashed out of the side entrance and around to the front to give the groom his hat and stick. Sometimes the sexton takes charge of the groom's hat and stick and hands them to him at the church door as he goes out. But in either case the best man always hurries around to see the bride and groom into their carriage, which has been standing at the entrance to the awning since she and her father alighted from it.

All the other conveyances are drawn up in the reverse order from that in which they arrived. The bride's carriage leaves first, next come those of the bridesmaids, next the bride's mother and father, next the groom's mother and father, then the nearest members of both families, and finally all the other guests in the order of their being able to find their conveyances.

The best man goes back to the vestry, where he gives the fee to the clergyman, collects his own hat, and coat if he has one, and goes to the bride's house.

As soon as the recessional is over, the ushers hurry back and escort to the door all the ladies who were in the first pews, according to the order of precedence; the bride's mother first, then the groom's mother, then the other occupants of the first pew on either side, then the second and third pews, until all members of the immediate families have left the church. Meanwhile it is a breach of etiquette for other guests to leave their places. At some weddings, just before the bride's arrival, the ushers run ribbons down the whole length of the center aisle, fencing the congregation in. As soon as the occupants of the first pews have left, the ribbons are removed and all the other guests go out by themselves, the ushers having by that time hurried to the bride's house to make themselves useful at the reception.

AT THE HOUSE

An awning makes a covered way from the edge of the curb to the front door. At the lower end the chauffeur (or one of the caterer's men) stands to open the carriage door; and give return checks to the chauffeurs and their employers. Inside the house the florist has finished, an orchestra is playing in the hall or library, everything is in perfect order. The bride and groom have taken their places in front of the elaborate setting of flowering plants that has been arranged for them.

The bride stands on her husband's right and her bridesmaids are either grouped beyond her or else divided, half on her side and half on the side of the groom, forming a crescent with bride and groom in the center.

USHERS AT THE HOUSE

At a small wedding the duty of ushers is personally to take guests up to the bride and groom. But at a big reception where guests outnumber ushers fifty or a hundred to one, being personally conducted is an honor accorded only to the very old, the very celebrated or the usher's own best friends. All the other guests stand in a long congested line by themselves. The bride's mother takes her place somewhere near the entrance of the room, and it is for her benefit that her own butler or one furnished by the caterer, asks each guest his name and then repeats it aloud. The guests shake hands with the hostess, and making some polite remark about the "beautiful wedding" or "lovely bride," continue in line to the bridal pair.

WEDDING CONVERSATION

What you should say in congratulating a bridal couple depends on how well you know one, or both of them. But remember it is a breach of good manners to congratulate a bride on having secured a husband.

If you are unknown to both of them, and in a long queue, it is not even necessary to give your name. You merely shake hands with the groom, say a formal word or two such as "Congratulations!"; shake hands with the bride, say "I wish you every happiness!" and pass on.

If you know them fairly well, you may say to him "I hope your good luck will stay with you always!" or "I certainly do congratulate you!" and to her "I hope your whole life will be one long happiness," or, if you are much older than she, "You look too lovely, dear Mary, and I hope you will always be as radiant as you look to-day!" Or, if you are a woman and a relative or really close friend, you kiss the groom, saying, "All the luck in the world to you, dear Jim, she certainly is lovely!" Or, kissing the bride, "Mary, darling, every good wish in the world to you!"

To all the above, the groom and bride answer merely "Thank you."

A man might say to the groom "Good luck to you, Jim, old man!" Or, "She is the most lovely thing I have ever seen!" And to her, "I hope you will have every happiness!" Or "I was just telling Jim how lucky I think he is! I hope you will both be very happy!" Or, if a very close friend, also kissing the bride, "All the happiness you can think of isn't as much as I wish you, Mary dear!" But it cannot be too much emphasized that promiscuous kissing among the guests is an offense against good taste.

To a relative, or old friend of the bride, but possibly a stranger to the groom, the bride always introduces her husband saying, "Jim, this is Aunt Kate!" Or, "Mrs. Neighbor, you know Jim, don't you?" Or formally, "Mrs. Faraway, may I present my husband?"

The groom on the approach of an old friend of his, says, "Mary, this is cousin Carrie." Or, "Mrs. Denver, do you know Mary?" Or, "Hello, Steve, let me introduce you to my wife; Mary, this is Steve Michigan." Steve says "How do you do, Mrs. Smartlington!" And Mary says, "Of course, I have often heard Jim speak of you!"

The bride with a good memory thanks each arriving person for the gift sent her: "Thank you so much for the lovely candlesticks," or "I can't tell you how much I love the dishes!" The person who is thanked says, "I am so glad you like it (or them)," or "I am so glad! I hoped you might find it useful." Or "I didn't have it marked, so that in case you have a duplicate, you can change it."

Conversation is never a fixed grouping of words that are learned or recited like a part in a play; the above examples are given more to indicate the sort of things people in good society usually say. There is, however, one rule: Do not launch into long conversation or details of yourself, how you feel or look or what happened to you, or what you wore when you were married! Your subject must not deviate from the young couple themselves, their wedding, their future.

Also be brief in order not to keep those behind waiting longer than necessary. If you have anything particular to tell them, you can return later when there is no longer a line. But even then, long conversation, especially concerning yourself, is out of place.

PARENTS OF THE GROOM

The groom's mother always receives either near the bride's mother or else continuing the line beyond the bridesmaids, and it is proper for every guest to shake hands with her too, whether they know her or not, but it is not necessary to say anything. The bride's father sometimes stands beside his wife but he usually circulates among his guests just as he would at a ball or any other party where he is host.

The groom's father is a guest and it is not necessary for strangers to speak to him, unless he stands beside his wife and, as it were, "receives," but there is no impropriety in any one telling him how well they know and like his son or his new daughter-in-law.

The guests, as soon as they have congratulated the bride and groom, go out and find themselves places (if it is to be a sit-down breakfast) at a table.

DETAILS OF A SIT-DOWN BREAKFAST

Unless the house is remarkable in size, there is usually a canopied platform built next to the veranda or on the lawn or over the yard of a city house. The entire space is packed with little tables surrounding the big one reserved for the bridal party, and at a large breakfast a second table is reserved for the parents of the bride and groom and a few close, and especially invited, friends.

Place cards are not put on any of the small tables. All the guests, except the few placed at the two reserved tables, sit with whom they like; sometimes by pre-arrangement, but usually where they happen to find friends—and room!

The general sit-down breakfast—except in great houses like a few of those in Newport—is always furnished by a caterer, who brings all the food, tables, chairs, napery, china and glass, as well as the necessary waiters. The butler and footmen belonging in the house may assist or oversee, or detail themselves to other duties.

Small menu cards printed in silver are put on all the tables. Sometimes these cards have the crest of the bride's father embossed at the top, but usually the entwined initials of the bride and groom are stamped in silver to match the wedding cake boxes.

Example:



Instead of bouillon, there may be caviar or melon, or grape fruit, or a puree, or clam broth. For lobster Newburg may be soft-shell crabs or oyster pate, or other fish. Or the bouillon may be followed by a dish such as sweetbreads and mushrooms, or chicken pates, or broiled chicken (a half of a chicken for each guest) or squab, with salad such as whole tomatoes filled with celery. Or the chicken or squab may be the second course, and an aspic with the salad, the third. Individual ices are accompanied by little cakes of assorted variety. There used always to be champagne; a substitute is at best "a poor thing," and what the prevailing one is to be, is as yet not determined. Orange juice and ginger ale, or white grape juice and ginger ale with sugar and mint leaves are two attempts at a satisfying cup that have been offered lately.

THE BRIDE'S TABLE

The feature of the wedding breakfast is always the bride's table. Placed sometimes in the dining-room, sometimes on the veranda or in a room apart, this table is larger and more elaborately decorated than any of the others. There are white garlands or sprays or other arrangement of white flowers, and in the center as chief ornament is an elaborately iced wedding cake. On the top it has a bouquet of white or silver flowers, or confectioner's quaint dolls representing the bride and groom. The top is usually made like a cover so that when the time comes for the bride to cut it, it is merely lifted off. The bride always cuts the cake, meaning that she inserts the knife and makes one cut through the cake, after which each person cuts herself or himself a slice. If there are two sets of favors hidden in the cake, there is a mark in the icing to distinguish the bridesmaids' side from that of the ushers. Articles, each wrapped in silver foil, have been pushed through the bottom of the cake at intervals; the bridesmaids find a ten-cent piece for riches, a little gold ring for "first to be married," a thimble or little parrot or cat for "old maid," a wish-bone for the "luckiest." On the ushers' side, a button or dog is for the bachelor, and a miniature pair of dice as a symbol of lucky chance in life. The ring and ten-cent piece are the same.

If a big piece of the wedding cake is left, the bride's mother has it wrapped in tin foil and put in a sealed tin box and kept for the bride to open on her first anniversary.

The evolution of the wedding cake began in ancient Rome where brides carried wheat ears in their left hands. Later, Anglo-Saxon brides wore the wheat made into chaplets, and gradually the belief developed that a young girl who ate of the grains of wheat which became scattered on the ground, would dream of her future husband. The next step was the baking of a thin dry biscuit which was broken over the bride's head and the crumbs divided amongst the guests. The next step was in making richer cake; then icing it, and the last instead of having it broken over her head, the bride broke it herself into small pieces for the guests. Later she cut it with a knife.

THE TABLE OF THE BRIDE'S PARENTS

The table of the bride's parents differs from other tables in nothing except in its larger size, and the place cards for those who have been invited to sit there. The groom's father always sits on the right of the bride's mother, and the groom's mother has the place of honor on the host's right. The other places at the table are occupied by distinguished guests who may or may not include the clergyman who performed the ceremony. If a bishop or dean performed the ceremony, he is always included at this table and is placed at the left of the hostess, and his wife, if present, sits at the bride's father's left. Otherwise only especially close friends of the bride's parents are invited to this table.

THE WEDDING CAKE

In addition to the big cake on the bride's table, there are at all weddings, near the front door so that the guests may each take one as they go home, little individual boxes of wedding cake, "black" fruit cake. Each box is made of white moire or gros-grain paper, embossed in silver with the last initial of the groom intertwined with that of the bride and tied with white satin ribbon. At a sit-down breakfast the wedding cake boxes are sometimes put, one at each place, on the tables so that each guest may be sure of receiving one, and other "thoughtless" ones prevented from carrying more than their share away.

THE STANDING BREAKFAST OR RECEPTION

The standing breakfast differs from the sit-down breakfast in service only. Instead of numerous small tables at which the guests are served with a course luncheon, a single long one is set in the dining-room. (The regular table pulled out to its farthest extent.) It is covered with a plain white damask cloth—or it may be of embroidered linen and lace insertion. In the center is usually a bowl or vase or other centerpiece, of white flowers. On it are piles of plates, stacks of napkins and rows of spoons and forks at intervals, making four or possibly six piles altogether. Always there are dishes filled with little fancy cakes, chosen as much for looks as for taste. There is usually a big urn at one end filled with bouillon and one at the other filled with chocolate or tea. In four evenly spaced places are placed two cold dishes such as an aspic of chicken, or ham mousse, or a terrine de foie gras, or other aspic. The hot dishes may be a boned capon, vol-au-vent of sweetbread and mushrooms, creamed oysters, chicken a la King, or chicken croquettes; or there may be cold cuts, or celery salad, in tomato aspic. Whatever the choice may be, there are two or three cold dishes and at least two hot. Whatever there is, must be selected with a view to its being easily eaten with a fork while the plate is held in the other hand! There are also rolls and biscuits, pate de foie gras or lettuce and tomato sandwiches, the former made usually of split "dinner" rolls with pate between, or thin sandwiches rolled like a leaf in which a moth has built a cocoon. Ices are brought in a little later, when a number of persons have apparently finished their "first course." Ice cream is quite as fashionable as individual "ices." It is merely that caterers are less partial to it because it has to be cut.

After-dinner coffee is put on a side table, as the champagne used to be. From now on there will probably be a bowl or pitchers of something with a lump of ice in it that can be ladled into glasses and become whatever those gifted with imagination may fancy.

Unless the wedding is very small, there is always a bride's table, decorated exactly as that described for a sit-down breakfast, and placed usually in the library, but there is no especial table for the bride's mother and her guests—or for anyone else.

THE BRIDAL PARTY EAT

By the time the sit-down breakfast has reached its second course and the queue of arriving guests has dwindled and melted away, the bride and groom decide that it is time they too go to breakfast. Arm in arm they lead the way to their own table followed by the ushers and bridesmaids. The bride and groom always sit next to each other, she on his right; the maid of honor (or matron) is on his left, and the best man is on the right of the bride. Around the rest of the table come bridesmaids and ushers alternately. Sometimes one or two others—sisters of the bride or groom or intimate friends, who were not included in the wedding party, are asked to the table, and when there are no bridesmaids this is always the case.

The decoration of the table, the service, the food, is exactly the same whether the other guests are seated or standing. At dessert, the bride cuts the cake, and the bridesmaids and ushers find the luck pieces.

DANCING AT THE WEDDING

On leaving their table, the bridal party join the dancing which by now has begun in the drawing-room where the wedding group received. The bride and groom dance at first together, and then each with bridesmaids or ushers or other guests. Sometimes they linger so long that those who had intended staying for the "going away" grow weary and leave—which is often exactly what the young couple want! Unless they have to catch a train, they always stay until the "crowd thins" before going to dress for their journey. At last the bride signals to her bridesmaids and leaves the room. They all gather at the foot of the stairs; about half way to the upper landing as she goes up, she throws her bouquet, and they all try to catch it. The one to whom it falls is supposed to be the next married. If she has no bridesmaids, she sometimes collects a group of other young girls and throws her bouquet to them.

INTO TRAVELING CLOTHES

The bride goes up to the room that has always been hers, followed by her mother, sisters and bridesmaids, who stay with her while she changes into her traveling clothes. A few minutes after the bride has gone up-stairs, the groom goes to the room reserved for him, and changes into the ordinary sack suit which the best man has taken there for him before the ceremony. He does not wear his top hat nor his wedding boutonniere. The groom's clothes should be "apparently" new, but need not actually be so. The bride's clothes, on the other hand, are always brand new—every article that she has on.

THE GOING-AWAY DRESS

A bride necessarily chooses her going-away dress according to the journey she is to make. If she is starting off in an open motor, she wears a suitably small motor hat and a wrap of some sort over whatever dress (or suit) she chooses. If she is going on a train or boat, she wears a "traveling" dress, such as she would choose under ordinary circumstances. If she is going to a nearby hotel or a country house put at her disposal, she wears the sort of dress and hat suitable to town or country occasion. She should not dress as though about to join a circus parade or the ornaments on a Christmas tree, unless she wants to be stared at and commented upon in a way that no one of good breeding can endure.

The average bride and groom of good taste and feeling try to be as inconspicuous as possible. On one occasion, in order to hide the fact that they were "bride and groom," a young couple "went away" in their oldest clothes and were very much pleased with their cleverness, until, pulling out his handkerchief, the groom scattered rice all over the floor of the parlor car. The bride's lament after this was—"Why had she not worn her prettiest things?"

The groom, having changed his clothes, waits up-stairs, in the hall generally, until the bride emerges from her room in her traveling clothes. All the ushers shake hands with them both. His immediate family, as well as hers, have gradually collected—any that are missing must unfailingly be sent for. The bride's mother gives her a last kiss, her bridesmaids hurry downstairs to have plenty of rice ready and to tell everyone below as they descend "They are coming!" A passage from the stairway and out of the front door, all the way to the motor, is left free between two rows of eager guests, their hands full of rice. Upon the waiting motor the ushers have tied everything they can lay their hands on in the way of white ribbons and shoes and slippers.

HERE THEY COME!

At last the groom appears at the top of the stairs, a glimpse of the bride behind him. It surely is running the gauntlet! They seemingly count "one, two, three, go!" With shoulders hunched and collars held tight to their necks, they run through shrapnel of rice, down the stairs, out through the hall, down the outside steps, into the motor, slam the door, and are off!

The wedding guests stand out on the street or roadway looking after them for as long as a vestige can be seen—and then gradually disperse.

Occasionally young couples think it clever to slip out of the area-way, or over the roofs, or out of the cellar and across the garden. All this is supposed to be in order to avoid being deluged with rice and having labels of "newly wed" or large white bows and odd shoes and slippers tied to their luggage.

Most brides, however, agree with their guests that it is decidedly "spoil sport" to deprive a lot of friends (who have only their good luck at heart) of the perfectly legitimate enjoyment of throwing emblems of good luck after them. If one white slipper among those thrown after the motor lands right side up, on top of it, and stays there, greatest good fortune is sure to follow through life.

There was a time when the "going away carriage" was always furnished by the groom, and this is still the case if it is a hired conveyance, but nowadays when nearly everyone has a motor, the newly married couple—if they have no motor of their own—are sure to have one lent them by the family of one of them. Very often they have two motors and are met by a second car at an appointed place, into which they change after shaking themselves free of rice. The white ribboned car returns to the house, as well as the decorated and labeled luggage, which was all empty—their real luggage having been bestowed safely by the best man that morning in their hotel or boat or train. Or, it may be that they choose a novel journey, for there is, of course, no regulation vehicle. They can go off in a limousine, a pony cart, a yacht, a canoe, on horseback or by airplane. Fancy alone limits the mode of travel, suggests the destination, or directs the etiquette of a honeymoon.

BRIDE'S FIRST DUTY OF THOUGHT FOR GROOM'S PARENTS

At the end of the wedding there is one thing the bride must not forget. As soon as she is in her traveling dress, she must send a bridesmaid or someone out into the hall and ask her husband's parents to come and say good-by to her. If his parents have not themselves come up-stairs to see their son, the bride must have them sent for at once!

It is very easy for a bride to forget this act of thoughtfulness and for a groom to overlook the fact that he can not stop to kiss his mother good-by on his way out of the house, and many a mother seeing her son and new daughter rush past without even a glance from either of them, has returned home with an ache in her heart.

It sounds improbable, doesn't it? One naturally exclaims, "But how stupid of her, why didn't she go up-stairs? Why didn't her son send for her?" Usually she does, or he does. But often the groom's parents are strangers; and if by temperament they are shy or retiring people they hesitate to go up-stairs in an unknown house until they are invited to. So they wait, feeling sure that in good time they will be sent for. Meanwhile the bride "forgets" and it does not occur to the groom that unless he makes an effort while up-stairs there will be no opportunity in the dash down to the carriage to recognize them—or anyone.

FLIPPANCY VS. RADIANCE

A completely beautiful wedding is not merely a combination of wonderful flowers, beautiful clothes, smoothness of detail, delicious food. These, though all necessary, are external attributes. The spirit, or soul of it, must have something besides; and that "something" is in the behavior and in the expression of the bride and groom.

The most beautiful wedding ever imagined could be turned from sacrament to circus by the indecorous behavior of the groom and the flippancy of the bride. She, above all, must not reach up and wig-wag signals while she is receiving, any more than she must wave to people as she goes up and down the aisle of the church. She must not cling to her husband, stand pigeon-toed, or lean against him or the wall, or any person, or thing. She must not run her arm through his and let her hand flop on the other side; she must not swing her arms as though they were dangling rope; she must not switch herself this way and that, nor must she "hello" or shout. No matter how young or "natural" and thoughtless she may be, she must, during the ceremony and the short time that she stands beside her husband at the reception, assume that she has dignity.

It is not by chance that the phrase "happy pair" is one of the most trite in our language, for happiness above all is the inner essential that must dominate a perfect wedding. An unhappy looking bride, an unwilling looking groom, turns the greatest wedding splendor into sham; without love it is a sacrament inadvisedly entered into, and the sight of a tragic-faced bride strikes chill to the heart.

The radiance of a truly happy bride is so beautifying that even a plain girl is made pretty, and a pretty one, divine. There is something glad yet sweet, shy yet triumphant, serious yet—radiant! There is no other way to put it. And a happy groom looks first of all protective—he, too, may have the quality of radiance, but it is different—more directly glad. They both look as though there were sunlight behind their eyes, as though their mouths irresistibly turned to smiles. No other quality of a bride's expression is so beautiful as radiance; that visible proof of perfect happiness which endears its possessor to all beholders and gives to the simplest little wedding complete beauty.

THE HOUSE WEDDING

A house wedding involves slightly less expenditure but has the disadvantage of limiting the number of guests. The ceremony is exactly the same as that in a church, excepting that the procession advances through an aisle of white satin ribbons from the stairs down which the bridal party descends, to the improvised altar. A small space near the altar is fenced off with other ribbons, for the family. There is a low rail of some sort back of which the clergyman stands, and something for the bride and groom to kneel on during the prayers of the ceremony. The prayer bench is usually about six or eight inches high, and between three and four feet long; at the back of it an upright on either end supports a crosspiece—or altar rail. It can be made in roughest fashion by any carpenter, or amateur, as it is entirely hidden under leaves and flowers. On the kneeling surface of the bench are placed cushions rather than flowers, because the latter stain. All caterers have the necessary standards to which ribbons are tied, like the wires to telegraph poles. The top of each standard is usually decorated with a spray of white flowers.

At a house wedding the bride's mother stands at the door of the drawing-room—or wherever the ceremony is to be—and receives people as they arrive. But the groom's mother merely takes her place near the altar with the rest of the immediate family. The ushers are purely ornamental, unless the house is so large that "pews" have been installed, and the guests are seated as in a church. Otherwise the guests stand wherever they can find places behind the aisle ribbons. Just before the bride's entrance, her mother goes forward and stands in the reserved part of the room. The ushers go up to the top of the stairway. The wedding march begins and the ushers come down two and two, followed by the bridesmaids, exactly as in a church, the bride coming last on her father's arm. The clergyman and the groom and best man have, if possible, reached the altar by another door. If the room has only one door, they go up the aisle a few moments before the bridal procession starts.

The chief difference between a church and house wedding is that the bride and groom do not take a single step together. The groom meets her at the point where the service is read. After the ceremony, there is no recessional. The clergyman withdraws, an usher removes the prayer bench, and the bride and groom merely turn where they stand, and receive the congratulations of their guests, unless, of course, the house is so big that they receive in another room.

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When there is no recessional, the groom always kisses the bride before they turn to receive their guests—it is against all tradition for any one to kiss her before her husband does.

There are seldom many bridal attendants at a house wedding, two to four ushers, and one to four bridesmaids, unless the house is an immense one.

In the country a house wedding includes one in a garden, with a wedding procession under the trees, and tables out on the lawn—a perfect plan for California or other rainless States, but difficult to arrange on the Atlantic seaboard where rain is too likely to spoil everything.

THE WEDDING IN ASSEMBLY ROOMS

Those whose houses are very small and yet who wish to have a general reception, sometimes give the wedding breakfast in a hotel or assembly rooms. The preparations are identical with those in a private house, the decorations and menu may be lavish or simple. Although it is perfectly good form to hold a wedding reception in a ballroom, a breakfast in a private house, no matter how simple, has greater distinction than the most elaborate collation in a public establishment. Why this is so, is hard to determine. It is probably that without a "home" atmosphere, though it may be a brilliant entertainment, the sentiment is missing.

THE SECOND MARRIAGE

The detail of a spinster's wedding is the same whether she marries a bachelor or a widower, the difference being that a widower does not give a "bachelor" dinner.

The marriage of a widow is the same as that of a maid except that she cannot wear white or orange blossoms, which are emblems of virginity, nor does she have bridesmaids. Usually a widow chooses a very quiet wedding, but there is no reason why she should not have a "big wedding" if she cares to, except that somber ushers and a bride in traveling dress, or at best a light afternoon one with a hat, does not make an effective processional—unless she is beautiful enough to compensate for all that is missing.

A wedding in very best taste for a widow would be a ceremony in a small church or chapel, a few flowers or palms in the chancel the only decoration, and two to four ushers. There are no ribboned-off seats, as only very intimate friends are asked. The bride wears an afternoon street dress and hat. Her dress for a church ceremony should be more conventional than if she were married at home, where she could wear a semi-evening gown and substitute a headdress for a hat. She could even wear a veil if it is colored and does not suggest the bridal white one.

A celebrated beauty wore for her second wedding in her own house, a dress of gold brocade, with a Russian court headdress and a veil of yellow tulle down the back. Another wore a dress of gray and a Dutch cap of silver lace, and had her little girl in quaint cap and long dress, to match her own, as maid of honor.

A widow has never more than one attendant and most often none. There may be a sit-down breakfast afterwards, or the simplest afternoon tea; in any case, the breakfast is, if possible, at the bride's own house, and the bridal pair may either stay where they are and have their guests take leave of them, or themselves drive away afterwards.

Very intimate friends send presents for a second marriage but general acquaintances are never expected to.

SUMMARY OF EXPENSES

All the expenses of a wedding belong to the bride's parents; the invitations are issued by them, the reception is at their house, and the groom's family are little more than ordinary guests. The cost of a wedding varies as much as the cost of anything else that one has or does. A big fashionable wedding can total far up in the thousands and even the simplest entails considerable outlay, which can, however, be modified by those who are capable of doing things themselves instead of employing professional service at every point.

THE PARENTS OF THE BRIDE PROVIDE

1. Engraved invitations and cards.

2. The service of a professional secretary who compiles a single list from the various ones sent her, addresses the envelopes, both inner and outer; encloses the proper number of cards, seals, stamps and mails all the invitations. (This item can be omitted and the work done by the family.)

3. The biggest item of expense—the trousseau of the bride, which may consist not alone of wearing apparel of endless variety and lavish detail, but household linen of finest quality (priceless in these days) and in quantity sufficient for a lifetime; or it may consist of the wedding dress, and even that a traveling one, and one or two others, with barest essentials and few accessories.

4. Awnings for church and house. This may be omitted at the house in good weather, at the church, and also in the country.

5. Decorations of church and house. Cost can be eliminated by amateurs using garden or field flowers.

6. Choir, soloists and organist at church. (Choir and soloists unnecessary.)

7. Orchestra at house. (This may mean fifty pieces with two leaders or it may mean a piano, violin and drum, or a violin, harp and guitar.)

8. Carriages or motors for the bridal party from house to church and back.

9. The collation, which may be the most elaborate sit-down luncheon or the simplest afternoon tea.

10. Boxes of wedding cake.

11. Champagne—used to be one of the biggest items, as a fashionable wedding without plenty of it was unheard of. Perhaps though, pocketbooks may have less relief on account of its omission than would at first seem probable, since what is saved on the wine bill is made up for on the additional food necessary to make the best wineless menu seem other than meagre.

12. The bride's presents to her bridesmaids. (May be jewels of value or trinkets of trifling cost.)

13. A wedding present to the bride from each member of her family—not counting her trousseau which is merely part of the wedding.

14. The bride gives a "wedding present" or a "wedding" ring or both to the groom, if she especially wants to. (Not necessary nor even customary.)

THE GROOM'S EXPENSES ARE

1. The engagement ring—as handsome as he can possibly afford.

2. A wedding present—jewels if he is able, always something for her personal adornment.

3. His bachelor dinner.

4. The marriage license.

5. A personal gift to his best man and each of his ushers.

6. To each of the above he gives their wedding ties, gloves and boutonnieres.

7. The bouquet carried by the bride. In many cities it is said to be the custom for the bride to send boutonnieres to the ushers and for the groom to order the bouquets of the bridesmaids. In New York's smart world, the bridesmaids' bouquets are looked upon as part of the decorative arrangement, all of which is in the province of the bride's parents.

8. The wedding ring.

9. The clergyman's fee.

10. From the moment the bride and groom start off on their wedding trip, all the expenditure becomes his.

WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES

1 year, paper 5 years, wood 10 years, tin 15 years, crystal 20 years, china 25 years, silver 50 years, gold 75 years, diamond

Wedding anniversaries are celebrated in any number of ways. The "party" may be one of two alone or it may be a dance. Most often it is a dinner, and occasionally, an afternoon tea.

In Germany a silver wedding is a very important event and a great celebration is made of it, but in America it is not very good form to ask any but intimate friends and family to an anniversary party—especially as those bidden are supposed to send presents. These need not, however, be of value; in fact the paper, wooden and tin wedding presents are seldom anything but jokes. Crystal is the earliest that is likely to be taken seriously by the gift-bearers. Silver is always serious, and the golden wedding a quite sacred event.

Most usually this last occasion is celebrated by a large family dinner to which all the children and grandchildren are bidden. Or the married couple perhaps choose an afternoon at home and receive their friends and neighbors, who are, of course, supposed to brings presents made of gold.



CHAPTER XXIII

CHRISTENINGS

A child can, of course, be christened without making a festivity of it at all—just as two people can be married with none but the clergyman and two witnesses—but nearly every mother takes this occasion to see her friends and show her baby to them.

Invitations to a christening are never formal, because none but the family and a very few intimate friends are supposed to be asked. In this day invitations are nearly all sent over the telephone, except to those who are at a distance, or else friends are asked verbally when seen; but it is both correct and polite to write notes. Such as:

Dear Mrs. Kindhart:

The baby is to be christened here at home, next Sunday at half past four, and we hope you and Mr. Kindhart—and the children if they care to—will come.

Affectionately, Lucy Gilding.

If a telephone message is sent, the form is:

"Mr. and Mrs. Gilding, Jr. would like Mr. and Mrs. Norman to come to the baby's christening on Sunday at half past four, at their house."

ASKING THE GODPARENTS

Before setting the date for the christening, the godmothers (two for a girl and one for a boy) and the godfathers (two for a boy and one for a girl) have, of course, already been chosen.

If a godfather (or mother) after having given his consent is abroad or otherwise out of reach at the time of the christening, a proxy takes part in the ceremony instead, and without thereby becoming a godfather. Since godparents are always most intimate friends, it is natural to ask them when they come to see the mother and the baby (which they probably do often) or to write them if at a distance. Sometimes they are asked at the same time that the baby's arrival is announced to them, occasionally even before.

The Gilding baby, for instance, supposedly sent the following telegram:

Mrs. Richard Worldly, Great Estates.

I arrived last night and my mother and father were very glad to see me, and I am now eagerly waiting to see you.

Your loving godson, Robert Gilding, 3d.

But more usually a godparent at a distance is telegraphed:

John Strong, Equitrust, Paris.

It's a boy. Will you be godfather? Gilding.

But in any case a formally worded request is out of place. Do not write:

"My husband and I sincerely hope that you will consent to be our son's godmother," etc. Any one so slightly known as this wording implies would not be asked to fill so close a position as that of godmother without great presumption on your part.

You must never ask any one to be a godmother or godfather whom you do not know intimately well, as it is a responsibility not lightly to be undertaken and impossible to refuse. Godparents should, however, be chosen from among friends rather than relatives, since the sole advantage of godparents is that they add to the child's relatives, so that if it should be left alone in the world, its godparents become its protectors. But where a child is born with plenty of relatives who can be called upon for advice and affection and assistance in event of his or her becoming an orphan, godparents are often chosen from among them. Nothing could be more senseless, however, than choosing grandparents, since the relationship is as close as can be anyway, and the chances that the parents will outlive their own parents make such a choice still more unsuitable.

In France, the godmother is considered, next to the parents and grandparents, the nearest relative a child can have. In some European countries, the Queen or another who is above the parents in rank, assumes a special protectorate over her godchild. In this instance the godmother appoints herself.

In America a similar situation cannot very well exist; though on rare occasions an employer volunteers to stand as godfather for an employee's child. Godparents must, of course, give the baby a present, if not before, at least at the christening. The standard "gift" is a silver mug, a porringer, or a knife, fork and spoon, marked usually with the baby's name and that of the giver.

Robert Gilding, 3d From his godfather John Strong

Or the presents may be anything else they fancy. In New England a very rich godfather sometimes gives the baby a bond which is kept with interest intact until a girl is eighteen or a boy twenty-one.

TIME OF CHRISTENING

In other days of stricter observances a baby was baptized in the Catholic and high Episcopal church on the first or at least second Sunday after its birth. But to-day the christening is usually delayed at least until the young mother is up and about again; often it is put off for months and in some denominations children need not be christened until they are several years old. The most usual age is from two to six months.

If the family is very high church or the baby is delicate and its christening therefore takes place when it is only a week or two old, the mother is carried into the drawing-room and put on a sofa near the improvised font. She is dressed in a becoming neglige and perhaps a cap, and with lace pillows behind her and a cover equally decorative over her feet. The guests in this event are only the family and the fewest possible intimate friends.

THE CHRISTENING IN CHURCH

In arranging for the ceremony the clergyman, of course, is consulted and the place and hour arranged. If it is to be in church, it can take place at the close of the regular service on Sunday, but if a good deal is to be made of the christening, a week day is chosen and an hour when the church is not being otherwise used.

The decorations, if any at all, consist of a few palms or some flowering plants grouped around the font, and the guests invited for the christening take places in the pews which are nearest to the font, wherever that happens to be. As soon as the clergyman appears, the baby's coat and cap are taken off (in any convenient pew, not necessarily the nearest one), and the godmother, holding the baby in her arms, stands directly in front of the clergyman. The other godparents stand beside her and other relatives and friends nearby.

The godmother who is holding the baby must be sure to pronounce its name distinctly—in fact it is a wise precaution if it is a long or an unusual one, to show the name printed on a slip of paper to the clergyman beforehand—as more than one baby has been given a name not intended for it. And whatever name the clergyman pronounces is fixed for life. The little Town girl who was to have been called Marian is actually Mary Ann!

As soon as the ceremony is over, the godmother hands the baby back to its nurse, who puts on its cap and coat, and it is then driven with all its relatives and friends to the house of its parents or grandparents, where a lunch or an afternoon tea has been arranged.

HOUSE CHRISTENING

Unless forbidden by the church to which the baby's parents belong, the house christening is by far the easier, safer and prettier. Easier, because the baby does not have to have wraps put on and off and be taken out and brought in; safer, because it is not apt to catch cold; and prettier, for a dozen reasons.

The baby in the first place looks much prettier in a dress that has not been crushed by having a coat put over it and taken off and put on and off again. In the second place, a baby brought down from the nursery without any fussing is generally "good," whereas one that has been dressed and undressed and taken hither and yon is apt to be upset and therefore to cry. If it cries in church it just has to cry! In a house it can be taken into another room and be brought back again after it has been made "more comfortable." It is trying to a young mother who is proud of her baby's looks, to go to no end of trouble to get exquisite clothes for it, and ask all her friends in, and then have it look exactly like a tragedy mask carved in a beet! And you can scarcely expect a self-respecting baby who is hauled and mauled and taken to a strange place and handed to a strange person who pours cold water on it—not to protest. And alas! it has only one means.

The arrangements made for a house christening are something like those made for a house wedding—only much simpler. The drawing-room or wherever the ceremony is to be performed is often decorated with pots of pale pink roses, or daisies, or branches of dogwood or white lilacs. Nothing is prettier than the blossoms of fruit trees (if they can be persuaded to keep their petals on) or any other spring flowers. In summer there are all the garden flowers. In autumn, cosmos and white chrysanthemums, or at any season, baby's breath and roses.

The "font" is always a bowl—of silver usually—put on a small high table. A white napkin on the table inevitably suggests a restaurant rather than a ritual and is therefore unfortunate, and most people of taste prefer to have the table covered with old church brocade and an arrangement of flowers either standing behind or laid upon it so that the stems are toward the center and covered by the base of the bowl.

If the clergyman is to wear vestments, a room must be put at his disposal.

At the hour set for the ceremony, the clergyman enters the room first and takes his place at the font. The guests naturally make way, forming an open aisle. If not, the baby's father or another member of the family clears an aisle. The godmother carries the baby and follows the clergyman; the other two godparents walk behind her, and all three stand near the font. At the proper moment the clergyman takes the baby, baptizes it and hands it back to the godmother, who holds it until the ceremony is over.

THE CHRISTENING DRESS

The christening dress is always especially elaborate and beautiful. Often it is one that was worn by the baby's mother, father, or even its grand or great-grandparent. Baby clothes should be as sheer as possible and as soft. The ideal dress is of mull with much or little valenciennes lace (real) and finest hand embroidery. But however much or little its trimming, it must be exquisite in texture. In fact, everything for a baby ought to be hand-made. It can be as plain as a charity garment, but of fine material and tiny hand stitches. If the baby is very little, it is usually laid on a lace trimmed pillow. (This lace, too, must be valenciennes.)

The godmother or godmothers should wear the sort of clothes that they would wear at an afternoon tea. The godfather or fathers should wear formal afternoon clothes. The other guests wear ordinary afternoon clothes and the mother—unless on the sofa—wears a light-colored afternoon dress. She should not wear black on this occasion.

As soon as the ceremony is performed, the clergyman goes to the room that was set apart for him, changes into his ordinary clothes and then returns to the drawing-room to be one of the guests at luncheon or tea. The godmother hands the baby to the nurse, or maybe to its mother, and everyone gathers around to admire it. And the party becomes exactly like every informal afternoon tea.

The only difference between an ordinary informal tea and a christening is that a feature of the latter is a christening cake and caudle. The christening cake is generally a white "lady" cake elaborately iced, sometimes with the baby's initials, and garlands of pink sugar roses. And although according to cook-books caudle is a gruel, the actual "caudle" invariably served at christenings is a hot eggnog, drunk out of little punch cups. One is supposed to eat the cake as a sign that one partakes of the baby's hospitality, and is therefore its friend, and to drink the caudle to its health and prosperity. But by this time the young host (or hostess) is peacefully asleep in the nursery.



CHAPTER XXIV

FUNERALS

At no time does solemnity so possess our souls as when we stand deserted at the brink of darkness into which our loved one has gone. And the last place in the world where we would look for comfort at such a time is in the seeming artificiality of etiquette; yet it is in the moment of deepest sorrow that etiquette performs its most vital and real service.

All set rules for social observance have for their object the smoothing of personal contacts, and in nothing is smoothness so necessary as in observing the solemn rites accorded our dead.

It is the time-worn servitor, Etiquette, who draws the shades, who muffles the bell, who keeps the house quiet, who hushes voices and footsteps and sudden noises; who stands between well-meaning and importunate outsiders and the retirement of the bereaved; who decrees that the last rites shall be performed smoothly and with beauty and gravity, so that the poignancy of grief may in so far as possible be assuaged.

FIRST DETAILS

As soon as death occurs, some one (the trained nurse usually) draws the blinds in the sick-room and tells a servant to draw all the blinds of the house.

If they are not already present, the first act of some one at the bedside is to telephone or telegraph the immediate members of the family, the clergyman and the sexton of the church to which the family belong, and possibly one or two closest friends, whose competence and sympathy can be counted on—as there are many things which must be done for the stricken family as well as for the deceased. (The sexton of nearly every Protestant church is also undertaker. If he is not, then an outside funeral director is sent for.)

If the illness has been a long one, it may be that the family has become attached to the trained nurse and no one is better fitted than she to turn her ministrations from the one whom she can no longer help, to those who have now very real need of just such care as she can give.

If the death was sudden, or the nurse unsympathetic or for other reasons unavailable, then a relative or a near friend of practical sympathy is the ideal attendant in charge.

CONSIDERATION FOR THE FAMILY

Persons under the shock of genuine affliction are not only upset mentally but are all unbalanced physically. No matter how calm and controlled they seemingly may be, no one can under such circumstances be normal. Their disturbed circulation makes them cold, their distress makes them unstrung, sleepless. Persons they normally like, they often turn from. No one should ever be forced upon those in grief, and all over-emotional people, no matter how near or dear, should be barred absolutely. Although the knowledge that their friends love them and sorrow for them is a great solace, the nearest afflicted must be protected from any one or anything which is likely to overstrain nerves already at the threatening point, and none have the right to feel hurt if they are told they can neither be of use nor be received. At such a time, to some people companionship is a comfort, others shrink from dearest friends. One who is by choice or accident selected to come in contact with those in new affliction should, like a trained nurse, banish all consciousness of self; otherwise he or she will be or no service—and service is the only gift of value that can be offered.

FIRST AID TO THE BEREAVED

First of all, the ones in sorrow should be urged if possible to sit in a sunny room and where there is an open fire. If they feel unequal to going to the table, a very little food should be taken to them on a tray. A cup of tea or coffee or bouillon, a little thin toast, a poached egg, milk if they like it hot, or milk toast. Cold milk is bad for one who is already over-chilled. The cook may suggest something that appeals usually to their taste—but very little should be offered at a time, for although the stomach may be empty, the palate rejects the thought of food, and digestion is never in best order.

It sounds paradoxical to say that those in sorrow should be protected from all contacts, and yet that they must be constantly asked about arrangements and given little time to remain utterly undisturbed. They must think of people they want sent for, and they must decide the details of the funeral; when they would like it held, and whether in church or at the house, whether they want special music or flowers ordered, and where the interment is to be.

ON DUTY AT DOOR

A friend or a servant is always stationed in the hall to open the door, receive notes and cards, and to take messages. In a big house the butler in his day clothes should answer the bell, with the parlor-maid to assist him, until a footman can procure a black livery and take his or her place. A parlor-maid or waitress at the door should wear either a black or gray dress, with her plainest white apron, collar and cuffs.

MEMBER OF FAMILY IN CHARGE

A close friend or male member of the family should be—if not at the door—as near the front hall as possible to see the countless people with whom details have to be arranged, to admit to a member of the family anyone they may want to see, and to give news to, or take messages from, others.

As people come to the house to enquire and offer their services, he gives them commissions the occasion requires. The first friend who hurries to the house (in answer to the telephone message which announced the death) is asked to break the news to an invalid connection of the family, or he may be sent to the florist to order the bell hung, or to the station to meet a child arriving from school.

NOTICE TO PAPERS

The sexton (or other funeral director) sends the notices to the daily papers announcing the death, and the time and place of the funeral. The form is generally selected by a member of the family from among those appearing in that day's newspapers. These notices are paid for by the sexton and put on his bill.

With the exception of the telephone messages or telegrams to relatives and very intimate friends, no other notices are sent out. Only those persons who are expected to go to the house at once have messages sent to them; all others are supposed to read the notice in the papers. When the notice reads "funeral private" and neither place nor time is given, very intimate friends are supposed to ask for these details at the house; others understand they are not expected.

HANGING THE BELL

As a rule the funeral director hangs crepe streamers on the bell; white ones for a child, black and white for a young person, or black for an older person. This signifies to the passerby that it is a house of mourning so that the bell will not be rung unnecessarily nor long.

If they prefer, the family sometimes orders a florist to hang a bunch of violets or other purple flowers on black ribbon streamers, for a grown person; or white violets, white carnations—any white flower without leaves—on the black ribbon for a young woman or man; or white flowers on white gauze or ribbon for a child.

CHECKING EXPENSES IN ADVANCE

It is curious that long association with the sadness of death seems to have deprived an occasional funeral director of all sense of moderation. Whether the temptation of "good business" gradually undermines his character—knowing as he does that bereaved families ask no questions—or whether his profession is merely devoid of taste, he will, if not checked, bring the most ornate and expensive casket in his establishment: he will perform every rite that his professional ingenuity for expenditure can devise; he will employ every attendant he has; he will order vehicles numerous enough for the cortege of a president; he will even, if thrown in contact with a bewildered chief-mourner, secure a pledge for the erection of an elaborate mausoleum.

Some one, therefore, who has the family's interest at heart and knows their taste and purse, should go personally to the establishment of the undertaker, and not only select the coffin, but go carefully into the specification of all other details, so that everything necessary may be arranged for, and unnecessary items omitted.

This does not imply that a family that prefers a very elaborate funeral should not be allowed to have one; but the great majority of people have moderate, rather than unlimited means, and it is not unheard of that a small estate is seriously depleted by vulgarly lavish and entirely inappropriate funeral expenses. One would be a poor sort who for the sake of friends would not willingly endure a little troublesome inquiry, rather than witness a display of splurge and bad taste and realize at the same time that the friends who might have been protected will be deluged with bills which it cannot but embarrass them to pay.

HONORARY PALLBEARERS

The member of the family who is in charge will ask either when they come to the house, or by telephone or telegraph if they are at a distance, six or eight men who are close friends of the deceased to be the pallbearers. When a man has been prominent in public life, he may have twelve or more from among his political or business associates as well as his lifelong social friends. Near relatives are never chosen, as their place is with the women of the family. For a young woman, her own friends or those of her family are chosen. It is a service that may not under any circumstances except serious ill-health, be refused.

The one in charge will tell the pallbearers where they are to meet. It used to be customary for them to go to the house on the morning of the funeral and drive to the church behind the hearse, but as everything tending to a conspicuous procession is being gradually done away with, it is often preferred to have them wait in the vestibule of the church.

Honorary pallbearers serve only at church funerals; They do not carry the coffin for the reason that, being unaccustomed to bearing such a burden, one of them might possibly stumble, or at least give an impression of uncertainty or awkwardness that might detract from the solemnity of the occasion. The sexton's assistants are trained for this service, so as to prevent in so far as is humanly possible a blundering occurrence.

MOURNING FOR FUNERAL

Among those who come to the house there is sure to be a woman friend of the family whose taste and method of expenditure is similar to theirs. She looks through the clothes they have, to see if there is not a black dress or suit that can be used, and makes a list of only the necessary articles which will have to be procured.

All dressmaking establishments give precedence to mourning orders and will fill a commission within twenty-four hours. These first things are made invariably without bothering the wearer with fitting. Alterations, if required, are made later.

Or the mourning departments of the big stores and specialty shops are always willing to send a selection on approval, so that a choice can be made by the family in the privacy of their own rooms. Nearly always acquaintances who are themselves in mourning offer to lend crepe veils, toques and wraps, so that the garments which must be bought at first may be as few as possible. Most women have a plain black suit, or dress, the trimming of which can quickly be replaced with crepe by a maid or a friend.

Most men are of standard size and can go to a clothier and buy a ready-made black suit. Otherwise they must borrow, or wear what they have, as no tailor can make a suit in twenty-four hours.

"SITTING UP" NO LONGER CUSTOMARY

Unless the deceased was a prelate or personage whose lying-in-state is a public ceremony, or unless it is the especial wish of the relatives, the solemn vigil through long nights by the side of the coffin is no longer essential as a mark of veneration or love for the departed.

Nor is the soulless body dressed in elaborate trappings of farewell grandeur. Everything to-day is done to avoid unnecessary evidence of the change that has taken place. In case of a very small funeral the person who has passed away is sometimes left lying in bed in night clothes, or on a sofa in a wrapper, with flowers, but no set pieces, about the room, so that an invalid or other sensitive bereft one may say farewell without ever seeing the all too definite finality of a coffin. In any event the last attentions are paid in accordance with the wish of those most nearly concerned.

EXTRA WORK FOR SERVANTS

Kindness of heart is latent in all of us, and servants, even if they have not been long with a family, rise to the emergency of such a time as that of a funeral, which always puts additional work upon them and often leaves them to manage under their own initiative. The house is always full of people, family and intimate friends occupy all available accommodation, but it is a rare household which does not give sympathy as generously below stairs as above; and he or she would be thought very heartless by their companions who did not willingly and helpfully assume a just share of the temporary tax on energy, time and consideration.

CHURCH FUNERAL

The church funeral is the more trying, in that the family have to leave the seclusion of their house and face a congregation. On the other hand, many who find solemnity only in a church service with the added beauty of choir and organ, prefer to take their heartrending farewell in the House of God.

ARRANGING AND RECORDING FLOWERS

An hour before the time for the service, if the family is Protestant, one or two woman friends go to the church to arrange the flowers which are placed about the chancel. Unless they have had unusual practise in such arrangement they should, if possible, have the assistance of a florist, as effective grouping and fastening of heavy wreaths and sprays is apt to overtax the ingenuity of novices, no matter how perfect their usual taste may be.

Whoever takes charge of the flowers must be sure to collect carefully all the notes and cards. They should always take extra pencils in case the points break, and write on the outside of each envelope a description of the flowers that the card was sent with.

"Spray of Easter lilies and palm branches tied with white ribbon." "Wreath of laurel leaves and gardenias." "Long sheaf of pink roses and white lilacs."

These descriptions will afterwards help identify and recall the flowers when notes of thanks are sent.

As the appointed time for the funeral draws near, the organ plays softly, the congregation gradually fills the church. The first pews on either side of the center aisle are left empty.

THE PROCESSIONAL

At the appointed time the funeral procession forms in the vestibule. If there is to be a choral service the minister and the choir enter the church from the rear, and precede the funeral cortege. Directly after the choir and clergy come the pallbearers, two by two, then the coffin covered with flowers and then the family—the chief mourner comes first, leaning upon the arm of her closest male relative. Usually each man is escort for a woman, but two women or two men may walk together according to the division of the family. If the deceased is one of four sons where there is no daughter, the mother and father walk immediately behind the body of their child, followed by the two elder sons and behind them the younger, with the nearest woman relative. If there is a grandmother, she walks with the eldest son and the younger two follow together. If it is a family of daughters who are following their father, the eldest daughter may walk with her mother, or the mother may walk with her brother, or a son-in-law. Although the arrangement of the procession is thus fixed, those in affliction should be placed next to the one whose nearness may be of most comfort to them. A younger child who is calm and soothing would better be next to his mother than an older who is of more nervous temperament.

At the funeral of a woman, her husband sometimes walks alone, but usually with his mother or his daughter. A very few intimate friends walk at the rear of the family, followed by the servants of the household. At the chancel the choir take their accustomed places, the minister stands at the foot of the chancel steps, the honorary pallbearers take their places in the front pews on the left, and the coffin is set upon a stand previously placed there for the purpose. The bearers of the coffin walk quietly around to inconspicuous stations on a side aisle. The family occupy the front pews on the right, the rest of the procession fill vacant places on either side. The service is then read.

THE RECESSIONAL

Upon the conclusion of the service, the procession moves out in the same order as it came in excepting that the choir remain in their places and the honorary pallbearers go first. Outside the church, the coffin is put into the hearse, the family getting into carriages or motors waiting immediately behind, and the flowers are put into a covered vehicle. (It is very vulgar to fill open landaus with displayed floral offerings and parade through the streets.)

FEW GO TO THE BURIAL

If the burial is in the churchyard or otherwise within walking distance, the congregation naturally follows the family to the graveside. Otherwise, the general congregation no longer expects, nor wishes, to go to the interment which (excepting at a funeral of public importance) is witnessed only by the immediate family and the most intimate friends, who are asked if they "care to go." The long line of carriages that used to stand at the church ready to be filled with a long file of mere acquaintances is a barbarous thing of the past.