University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER FIVE: ETIQUETTE FOR DRY AGENTS

SOME BROADER ASPECTS OF PROHIBITION

IN spite of the great pride and joy which we Americans feel over the success of National Prohibition; in spite of the universal popularity of the act and the method of its enforcement; in spite of the fact that it is now almost impossible to obtain in any of our ex-saloons anything in the least resembling whiskey or gin,—there still remains the distressing suspicion that quite possibly, at some of the dinner parties and dances of our more socially prominent people, liquor—or its equivalent—is openly being served. Dry agents have, of course, tried on several occasions to verify this suspicion; their praiseworthy efforts have met, for the most part, with scant success.

The main difficulty has been, I believe, that the average dry agent is too little versed in

the customs and manners of polite society. It is lamentably true that, too often, has a carefully planned society dry raid been spoiled because the host noticed that one of his guests was wearing white socks with a black tie, or that the intruder was using his dessert spoon on the hors d'œuvres.

The solution of this difficulty lies, of course, in the gradual procuring of a better class of dry agent. There are signs (though, unfortunately, in the wrong direction) that some of our younger college generation are already casting envious eyes toward the rich rewards, the social opportunities and the exciting life of the professional bootlegger.

It might be well to interest some of these promising youngsters in the no less exciting occupation of National Prohibition Enforcement Officer. At present the chief difficulty seems to lie in the fact that, in our preparatory schools and colleges, a young man acquires a certain code of honor which causes him to look with distaste on what he calls pussyfooting and sneaking.

People too often forget that, in order to make effective such a universally beneficent law, any means are justified. It will be, I hope, only a matter of years before this distrust of the "sneak" will have died out, and the Dry Agent will come to be regarded with the reverence and respect due to one who devotes his life to the altruistic investigation of his neighbor's affairs.

THE COLLEGE GRADUATE AS DRY AGENT

THEN, too, many young college men are deterred from becoming Dry Agents by thinking of the comparative scantiness of the monetary rewards. This difficulty is only an imaginary one—for, luckily, as soon as a man's code of honor has been elevated to the extent that it permits him to take up a career of pussy-footing there is generally eliminated at the same time any objection he might have to what is often called bribery. Thus, by a fortunate combination of circumstances, a Dry Agent is enabled to serve mankind and, at the

same time, greatly increase his own personal fortune.

But we cannot wait until our college graduates come to regard pussyfooting as a career. We must do what we can with the material at our disposal. We must in some way educate our present Dry Agents so that they can go to any function in polite society and remain as inconspicuous and as completely disregarded as the host. As a first step in such a social training I offer the following suggestions, in the hope that before long no function will be complete without the presence of four or five correctly dressed National Prohibition Enforcement Officers, ready and eager to arrest the host and hostess and all the guests on the slightest provocation.

PLANNING A DRY RAID ON A MASQUERADE BALL

LET us suppose, for example, that you are a Dry Agent and that your name is Isador Eisenberg, and, one day, you and your chief are sitting around the Dry Agent's Club and he says to you, "Izzy—I see by the paper that

there's a swell society masquerade ball to be given by the younger married set tomorrow night at the Glen Cove Country Club. Take your squad to cover it." At this point you doubtless say, "Chief, I'm afraid I can't use my squad. My men have been disguised as trained seals all this week, and tomorrow night, they are to raid all the actresses' dressing rooms at the Hippodrome" and then the Chief says, "Well, Izzy, you'll have to rent a costume and pull off the raid all by yourself."

A WORD ABOUT CORRECT COSTUMES

YOUR first concern should be, of course, your costume. If you have a high voice (although really there is no reason for supposing that all Dry Agents have high voices), you might well attend the masquerade disguised as a lady. One of the neatest and, on the whole, most satisfactory of ladies' disguises is that of Cleopatra. Cleopatra, as you know, was once Queen of Egypt and the costume is quite simple and attractive. It may be, however, that you would prefer to appear

as a modern) rather than an ancient queen. A modern Queen (if one may judge from the illustrated foreign periodicals) always wears a plain suit and carries a tightly rolled umbrella. Should you care to attend the masquerade as an allegorical figure—say "2000 Years of Progress"—you might wear the Cleopatra costume and carry the umbrella. Or you might go attired as some other less prominent member of the nobility—for instance, Lady Dartmouth, whose delightful costume is more or less featured in the advertising on our better class subways and street cars, and can be obtained at a comparatively small cost at any reliable dry goods store.

Should you, however, feel that you would be more at ease in a male costume, there are several suggestions which might cleverly conceal your real identity. You might, for example, attend the ball as Jurgen—a costume which would assure you a pleasurable evening and many pleasing acquaintances. You might, with equal satisfaction, go as an Indian.

It occurs to me that it might even be a clever move to attend the party dressed as a Dry Agent. All suspicion would be instantly lost in the uproar of laughter which would greet your announcement of your disguise; many men would probably so far enter into the spirit of the joke as to offer you drinks from their flasks, and much valuable evidence could be obtained in this way. And the costume is quite easy—simply wear a pleated soft-bosom dress shirt with your evening dress, and tuck the ends of your black tie under your collar.

GOOD FORM FOR DRY AGENTS DURING A RAID

AFTER the costume, you should arrange to obtain a mask and a breath. The former is, of course, for the purpose of hiding your identity; the latter is essential at any party where you wish to remain inconspicuous. A good whisky breath can usually be obtained from a bottle of any of the better known brands of Scotch or Rye whisky by holding a small quantity of the liquor in the mouth for

a short period of time. It is not, of course, necessary to swallow the liquor and in this connection I would suggest that you use only the best grade whisky, for there are at present being manufactured for domestic consumption several brands which, if held in the mouth for a longer interval than, say, three seconds, are apt to eat away the tongue or dissolve several of your more important teeth.

On the night of the party, therefore, having donned your Dry Agent costume, having put on your mask, having secured a good breath—you jump into a taxicab and drive to the Glen Cove Country Club. And, as you enter the door of the club, some girl, dressed, probably, as Martha Washington, will run up and kiss you. This is not because she thinks you are George Washington; it is because she drank that eighth Bronx cocktail at dinner.

And right at this point is where most Dry Agents have displayed their ignorance of the usages of polite society, for most of them are wofully ignorant of the correct way to handle such a situation. Your average Dry Agent,

Packets of old letters, bits of verse, locks of hair, pressed flowers, inscribed books, photographs, etc., all make acceptable wedding gifts. By telling you whether they should be presented to the Bride or to the Groom PERFECT BEHAVIOR has, we feel, settled the question of future happiness in many a new-made home.

[Description: Drawing of letters, journals, and other mementos. ]

You are, let us say, one of the Ushers attending the Bachelor Dinner. You are handed a bottle of Chateau Lafitte '69. Can you select, from the diagram above, the proper implement to use in getting at its contents? The correct methods of choosing and using table hardware are explained in PERFECT BEHAVIOR.

[Description: Drawing of a plate, two wine glasses, a corkscrew, a mallet, and a bottle opener. ]

The young couple in the picture are trying to word a plausible letter of regret in answer to an invitation to a house-party. Had they consulted their PERFECT BEHAVIOR they would have known that there is no plausible excuse for not accepting any invitation whatever, and that the simplest and most dignified, method is to write the attached model letter.

[Description: Drawing of a man and woman leaning over a table writing a letter. In the foreground is a model letter. ]

not being accustomed to the ways of Younger Marrieds, is often confused upon being unexpectedly kissed, and in his confusion betrays his unfortunate lack of social training.

The correct way to meet the above situation is based on the fundamental rule of all social etiquette—common sense. Return the lady's kiss in an easy, natural manner and pass on. If she follows you, lead her at once to a quiet unoccupied corner of the club and knock her over the head with a chair or some other convenient implement. It has been found that this is the only effective way to deal with this type of woman and it is really only a kindness to her and her husband to keep her from embarrassing you with her attentions during the rest of the evening.

After you have removed your coat, you should go to the ball room where you will find the dance in full swing—full being of course used in its common or alcoholic sense. Take your place in the stag line and don't, under any circumstances, allow anyone to induce you to cut in on any of the dancers. In the

first place, you won't be able to dance because Dry Agents, like Englishmen, never can; secondly, if you try to dance, you are taking the enormous chance, especially at a masquerade, that the man who introduced you to your partner will disappear for the rest of the evening, leaving you with Somebody's Albatross hanging around your neck. And, of all Albatrosses, the married one is perhaps farthest South—especially if she happens to be a little tight and wants to talk about her husband and children.

Your policy, therefore, should be one of complete non-partisanship. If you do not dance, do not let yourself be drawn into conversation, and do not, above all things, show any consideration for the host or hostess. By closely observing the actions of the men and women about you, by wandering down into the club bar, by peeking into the automobiles parked outside the club, you will probably be able to obtain sufficient evidence of the presence of alcohol to justify a raid. And then, when you have raided the Glen Cove Country

Club, you can turn your attention to the 12,635,439 other clubs and private houses where the same thing is going on. And, if Mr. Volstead has a dress suit, you might take him with you, and show him just how beautifully Prohibition is working and how enthusiastic the better classes of American society are about it.