ture at all times. But there are certain ceremonious occasions that warrant the invited hospitality—and such are the occasions that we will study in this chapter.
First, we find the wedding anniversary claiming the ceremony of many invited guests and much festive entertainment. Thus, wedding anniversaries offer an excellent opportunity for hospitality. Then there is the occasion of the young daughter's introduction to society—an event which is important, indeed, and requires the utmost hospitality on the part of host and hostess alike. When one's son graduates from college, a little dinner party and perhaps some musical entertainment afterward is an appropriate time to show by one's hospitality, sincere gratitude for the splendid educational opportunities afforded the youth of America. Oh, there are countless opportunities, countless "excuses," if you will call it that, countless occasions when hospitality can be shown to one's friends and acquaintances! And it is only by taking advantage of these opportunities, by revealing one's unselfish, ungrudging hospitality, that one rightly earns the name of cultured.
The hostess who sighs in relief when the guest has departed is not truly hospitable. She should have a certain sense of satisfaction in the knowledge of her very weariness. For hasn't she served her guests well? Hasn't she sent them to their homes a little happier than when they first came? The sigh should be one of sheer joy.
No one invites guests to his or her home to make them unhappy. Therefore, if among your friends you number one whose worldly goods are very much less than your own, do not invite him or her to a fashionable ball where rich display will make him feel sadly out of place. Rather save the invitation for a quiet, afternoon tea. And on the
