As to Basher, he is the soul of politeness and good breeding. He has read my book, and admired it. His commendations were rather bungling in the manner of delivery, but unfeigned. I understood perfectly what he meant to say, that is enough. Tom Wagstaff, to whom I dedicated it, and who, as I told you, bought up an entire edition for private circulation, also admired it. "Chupper, my boy," said Tom, drawing on his yellow kids, "it's grand!" By the way, I quoted a few remarks of his, which were delivered by him one afternoon to a half-dozen of us as a mock lecture. I think I can recollect some of them. Speaking of soup, Tom remarked: "If you think the soup particularly good, be sure and say so, and ask for a second or a third plate. You will find that the host will be much affected by such little marks of your esteem--for the soup; and the company will understand that you do not often get it." Of being helped at table, Tom gave this rule: "Always point at whatever you wish, either with finger, knife, fork, or spoon. They are all equally good for the purpose." For the proper eating of fruit Tom gave us some laughable advice: "If you are eating fruit, never, by any means, convey the stones or pits upon your plate in a quiet way, but spit them out boldly, and with considerable noise. This not only shows the height of good breeding, but of science also, for it is not every one who can perform it so perfectly as not to spit more than the fruit-stones into the plate. {128} A much more elegant way, although it requires considerable dexterity--and I would not advise you to try it without a little private practice--is to insert the blade of your knife into your mouth, and with great care get the stones balanced upon it; then convey them just outside of the edge of your plate upon the table-cloth, where you may amuse yourself by building up a very artistic little heap of any form your fancy may suggest or your good judgment devise. Cherry-stones, it is to be remarked, are _always_ to be swallowed, and take care you let the company know it, as it is a highly suggestive piece of information. Cracking the stones of prunes with your teeth is the proper way of disposing of _them_, especially if you are seated opposite a nervous old gentleman. Use your tooth-pick, of course, at table, and open your mouth wide while operating. The best kind of tooth-pick is a large, stiff goose-quill, which makes a snapping noise and calls attention. The place to keep it is in your pantaloons' pocket. Many prefer, and I am among the number, to pick their teeth with their fork. It is quite a refined practice. You will find that your doing so will cause a marked sensation at the table."