Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 August 1883 — Signs that Are Significant. [ARTICLE]

Signs that Are Significant.

Napkins are indexes of locality. The Bostonian uses his vigorously; it is spotless, but much rumpled at the end of a dinner; his energy has constantly drawn it across the width of his mouth, and has laid it on the table with a parting crush. The New Yorker’s napkin bears signs of use otherwise than in its folds; it has a central indentation made by the thumb and forefinger as it has been thrust against the front of the lips, and is thrown carelessly on the chair at the end of a repast. The Westerner’s napkin, as broadly spread under his chin, preserves its original smoothness and lines of folding, though otherwise it shows how necessary has been its application to the vest. There is a generous bonhommie about men who thus spread out their napkins, and it means business of which they are not ashamed, it is comradeship in the necessities of eating. The Southener often dispenses with his, for though placed in his lap in its square or triangular outlines, it there remains. Both Westener and Southerner show their appreciation of home training and the laundry exigencies by folding up their napkins and placing them on the table. Among the spoken signs of one’s locality are the beginnings of conversations, at table or on piazzas. The pleasant, easy good morning, with the hope expressed that it will be a good day for business or excursions, as’ if making a personal statement in which every one will be interested, proves the cosmopolite. The invalid inquires after the sleeping hours and shows, by reference to throat or liver, whether he is from the East or West. The man who thinks that one’s style is proved by being an epicure, has confidential conversations with the waiter and asks the new comer “How did you find the table where you came from ?” “Fair," is the sententious reply; faint praise condemns. The semi s library man inquires if you saw a notice of a new book, and casually observes, “I met the author in Norway whefi he was unknown, saw there was something in him, and invited him to join my party; we were traveling 'incog,’you know.” Having thus established the fact of keen perception of latent authorship and raises a suspicion of his. wealth, he relapses into silence.— Boston Courier.