
“Have you a well-bred child?” asks the Boston Herald-Traveler Home-Maker’s Guide (1929). Well, maybe you do and maybe you don’t! If you do, this is what your child will be doing:
Play the piano without protest when he is asked. Assuming that the child can actually play the piano.
Refrain from noise annoying to older people. Which might possibly include banging on the piano.
Change plates at table if there is no maid. I like the “if there is no maid” part – and the image I have of the child switching everyone’s plates around like a game of musical chairs. (I know that that is not what the Herald-Traveler means).
These are some of the things that those well-bred children won’t be doing:
Say “Yep” and “Naw.”
Plunge into a room without knocking. Is it more polite to swoop? Could the child march or dance or perhaps merely stomp?
Play his bugle at 5:30 am. My favorite no-no. This is some child: a plate-switching, plunging, bugle-blowing prodigy.
Say, “I won’t eat carrots.” What about other vegetables? Is there something special about carrots? Or how about “I can’t eat carrots” or “Carrots make me sick”? Is that all right?
So many questions, so little to go on…
The rest of the do’s and don’ts are pretty standard, so not worth making fun of really, of the say-please-and-thank-you variety.
I like these particular ones though. Especially the bugle one. Is it really considered polite to play at other early hours, say 6 am, or 6:30? Because if it is, I’m willing to negotiate on the carrots. Yep, if you hand that bugle over, you can even say “Naw, I don’t want carrots!”
Dear little child, you can even plunge into a room once in awhile - just lay off the “Reveille.”
There are some good “Reveille” lyrics, by the way, at the link above (Wikipedia). I especially like the little quatrain, “And tho’ the sun is peeping/And dawn has started creeping/Those lazy bums keep sleeping/They never hear my call!” That’s Monday morning in a nutshell, for sure.
Image is a Chinese cigarette card from the New York Public Library Digital Gallery, probably circa 1905-1920 (yeah, I’m guessing here!)