Perfect Behavior :: :: University of Virginia Library

THE first thing to do on arriving at a symphony concert is to express the wish that the orchestra will play Beethoven's Fifth. If your companion then says "Fifth what?" you are safe with him for the rest of the evening; no metal can touch you. If, however, he says "So do I"—this is a danger signal and he may require careful handling.

The next step is a glance at the program. If your escort is quite good looking and worth cultivating, the obvious remark is "Oh dear—not a very interesting program, to-night. But George—look at what they are playing next

The young lady in the picture has just laid out a perfect drive. She had, unfortunately, neglected to wait until the gentleman playing ahead of her had progressed more than fifteen yards down the fairway, and her ball, traveling at a velocity of 1675 f.s., has caught the gentleman squarely in the half-pint bottle. What mistake, if any, is the gentleman making in chasing her off the course with his niblick, if we assume that she called "Fore!" when the ball had attained to within three feet of the gentleman?

[Description: Drawing of a man with a golf club raised over his head chasing a woman on a golf course. ]

You will exclaim, no doubt, on looking at the scene depicted above, "Cherchez la femme." It is, however, nothing so serious as you will pardonably suppose. The gentleman is merely an inexperienced "gun" at a shooting-party, who has begun following his bird before it has risen above the head of his loader. This very clumsy violation of the etiquette of sport proves, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he has learned to shoot from the comic papers, and that his coat-of-arms can never again be looked upon as anything but bogus.

[Description: Drawing of a man pointing a rifle at the head of another man. ]

Thursday! My, I wish—." If George shies at this, it can be tried again later—say during an "appassionato" passage for the violins and cellos.

As soon as the music starts, all your attention should be directed toward discovering someone who is making a noise—whispering or coughing; having once located such a creature, you should immediately "sh-sh" him. Should he continue the offence, a severe frown must accompany the next "sh-sh," a lorgnette—if available—adding great effectiveness to the rebuke. This will win you the gratitude of your neighbors and serve to establish your position socially, as well as musically—for perfect "sh-shers" do not come from the lower classes.

At the conclusion of the first number the proper remark is "hmmm," accompanied by a slow shake of the head. After this you may use any one of a number of remarks, as for example, "Well, I suppose Mendelssohn appeals to a great many people," or "That was meaningless enough to have been written by a

Russian." This latter is to be preferred, for it leads your companion to say, "But don't you like TschaiKOWsky?", pronouncing the second syllable as if the composer were a female bull. You can then reply, "Why, yes, TschaiKOFFsky did write some rather good music—although it's all neurotic and obviously Teutonic." Don't fail to stress the "v."

The next number on the program will probably be the soloist—say, a coloratura soprano. Your first remark should be that you don't really care for the human voice—the reason being, of course, that symphonic Music, ABSOLUTE music, has spoiled you for things like vocal gymnastics. This leads your bewildered friend to ask you what sort of soloist you prefer.

Ans.—Why, a piano concerto, of course.

Ques.—And who is your favorite pianist?

Ans.—Rachmaninoff.
And then, before the boy has time to breathe—SHOOT! "Did you know that he has a daughter at Vassar?"

Although not necessary, it might be well to

finish off the poor fellow at the end of the concert with one or two well placed depth bombs. My own particular favorite for this is the following, accompanied by a low sigh: "After all—Beethoven IS Beethoven."