Another practice strictly forbidden in these rules was picking your teeth with your knife while at table. From the use thus made of the hand, in the absence of forks, it may be supposed that we should have directions for keeping it clean during the process of eating. One of these appears droll enough to us at the present day. It is directed that a person sitting at table in company is not to blow his nose with the hand with which he takes his meat. Handkerchiefs were not yet in use, and the alternative of course was that, if any one felt the need of performing the operation in question, he was to lay down his knife, and to do it with the hand which held it. In one of the French codes this direction is given rather covertly, as follows:-- _Ne touche ton nez à main nue_ _Dont ta viande est tenue._ But in another it is enunciated more crudely, thus:-- _Enfant, se ton nez est morveux,_ _Ne le torche de la main nue_ _De quoy ta viande est tenue;_ _Le fait est vilain et honteux._ All these circumstances show a state of manners which was very far from refined. Among other directions for table, you are told not to leave your spoon in your platter; not to return back to your plate the food you have put in your mouth; not to dip your meat in the salt-cellar to salt it, but to take a little salt on your knife and put it on the meat; not to drink from a cup with a dirty mouth; not to offer to another person the remains of your pottage; not to eat much cheese; to take only two or three nuts, when they are placed before you; not to play with your knife; not to roll your napkin into a cord, or tie it in knots; and not to get intoxicated during dinner-time! Our next cut (No. 240) represents one of the backed seats, after a pattern of this century. It is taken from a manuscript of the romance of Launcelot du Lac, in the National Library at Paris (No. 594). It is probable that this seat belonged to the parlour, or, as the name signifies, conversation room. The custom still continued of making seats with divisions, so that each person sat in a separate compartment. A triple seat of this kind is represented in our cut No. 241, taken from a manuscript of the French Boccaccio in the National Library at Paris. [Illustration: _No. 240. A Domestic Scene._] [Illustration: _No. 241. A Triple Seat._]