Time was when one of the ladylike accomplishments was disjointing a beast upon a platter. Hostesses, as much as hosts, were expected to possess the skill of carving meat, so as to be able to offer sustenance to their guests from their very own hands.

Later, for reasons that are mysterious to Miss Manners, it came to be considered manly to dismember flesh. The proper hostess then took to tea, priding herself on the special way she concocted the brew that she handed around.

The ingredients were tamer, if not tepid, but the idea was the same. These were not practical divisions of chores. There could be vast numbers of competent servants standing by, prepared to whisk away whatever flew off the host's knife or race in with hot water for a hostess who might be innocent of the process by which it is possible to turn cold water into hot.

The idea was to stage a demonstration that hospitality involves making a personal effort on behalf of others. There are just enough variables in these procedures -- light meat or dark, strong tea or weak, lemon or milk -- to indicate attentiveness to individual preferences. The symbolism of these rites speak to the second most important function of nourishment, right after filling the tummy: peaceful and generous sharing.

There is also a long tradition of guests helping one another. In earlier and less fastidious times, dinner partners ate from the same helpings of food and drank from the same cups. Well into the 19th century, food platters covered the fashionable dinner table as well as the homely one, and guests were expected to be solicitous of those who sat near them.

Although mealtime itself is now disjointed, and hands-on food has become more of a problem than a metaphor, some of the historic tradition has managed to survive. At our holiday meals, some leftovers from these traditions appear at the table.

Such meals are among the few occasions that meat is carved by the table. In many cases, a gender distinction remains with the host carving the meat while saying to the hostess, "I could carve this perfectly well if you gave me a sharp knife."

An abundance of filled platters covers the table. This inspires the diners to make revolting noises and remarks indicating the likely results of their being tempted to overindulge.

The effort that has gone into preparation is recognized:

"Why do you insist on knocking yourself out making everything from scratch? Just get carry-out. Nobody'll ever know the difference."

Individual preferences are acknowledged:

"Do you know what that would do to my cholesterol?"

"Yuck, I hate that."

"Of course it counts as meat. Anyway, now I don't eat poultry or fish, either."

"No, this has some stuffing clinging to it. I can only have protein."

"Could you have made one thing, just one thing, that doesn't have a million calories in it?"

"I knew there wouldn't be anything here I can eat, so I brought my own."

And in the spirit of the occasion, everyone tries to look after the others at the table:

"No fair, you had the drumstick last year."

"You know you're not supposed to eat that."

"You don't need that dessert."

"I'm finished, so why can't I leave the table? Why do I have to keep sitting here?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My family and I recently spent a few days at a beach hotel that offered its guests a "free continental breakfast." Lovely idea, of which we did partake on our last morning.

Something I observed made me wonder if there was a change in the Canons of Etiquette that made it acceptable for some hotel guests to wear their pajamas to the dining area to pick up their breakfast.

GENTLE READER: Only if they wear their bathrobes over them and pretend that they are wearing bathing suits underneath because they are on their way to the beach.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I was with a small group of ladies, none of whom I knew well, one of them made a very embarrassing, very personal, uncalled-for remark about me simply to get a laugh.

I naively expected a call of apology. Of course, I never received one. I had planned to tell her that I just do not enjoy bathroom humor.

The next time I saw her (I haven't had the courage to return to the group), I simply looked through her.

Am I allowed any more of a "reprimand" for her rudeness? I am still hurting and want to feel good about myself again.

GENTLE READER: More of a reprimand? Were you thinking of challenging her to a duel?

Refusing to recognize a person's existence has been the strongest form of reacting to insult since obliterating the person's existence at dawn was outlawed. Deprived of a sword, you have nevertheless made your point. Should you wish to return to the group, Miss Manners suggests avoiding a scene by turning your reaction up, just a notch, to cool.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A woman at the office I manage became engaged recently, and her performance has suffered in the whirlwind of her wedding preparations. She frequently spends long amounts of time on personal phone calls coordinating wedding details, surfing the Internet on wedding-related Web sites and extending her lunch hour.

Her inefficiency forces the rest of the employees in the department to overcompensate for her neglected responsibilities. They have vented their resentments to me and I, in turn, have addressed these issues with my employee.

This woman is tolerable in the workplace, though by no means a pleasure to work with. To make matters worse, the fellow she is marrying is a previous employee whose volatility and poor performance earned him an early exit from his position here.

There are few, if any, co-workers who share in her enthusiasm about the upcoming nuptials, including myself. I'm not positive that this woman doesn't share the same distaste toward her co-workers, either, especially since only one person here was invited to the bridal shower next month.

As the manager of this department, what is the minimal gesture that should be extended to this woman in regards to her wedding celebration? Is it unreasonable to ask my staff to contribute to a gift for someone they are not fond of? Do we need to have a "work" shower for her with cake and gifts, etc., or will that seem forced and phony considering the lack of rapport between this woman and her co-workers (not to mention the underlying tension and aversion toward her fiance)? And is it impolite to not acknowledge it at all?

GENTLE READER: Why do you suppose Miss Manners keeps urging people (to no avail whatsoever) not to make personal celebrations into office parties?

These are not people who were drawn together voluntarily by mutual affection, but co-workers who are there to make their living. True, many of them may become friends and share one another's joys and sorrows, but others may find that a cordial working relationship is all they want or can manage to summon to conceal their distaste. As you have discovered, it can become too much to expect these people to fake warmth, which is a good reason for not setting up office events that require this.

Miss Manners suspects that she is telling you this too late. If you have been showering other employees, you must do the same for this one.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Media coverage has made it a tough time to be a Catholic.

As a weekend guest, I slipped out early to attend Sunday mass, and when I returned, the other guests were up and gathering for brunch. My host began asking me embarrassing questions about whether the "scandals" had me question my support of the Church and whether I feel there are any priests I know of who have been involved, or if I know any victims.

I was a coward and did not defend my faith. Instead, I made an excuse about being needed by my hostess in the kitchen and left the room.

Since this is bound to happen again, can you provide a snappy retort for me and fellow Catholics?

GENTLE READER: "Do you think I should I join a religion that never deals with human sin? But then, of course, there would be the question of whether I'd be eligible."

If that is snappy enough for you, perhaps you will allow Miss Manners to make some serious points.

One is that you need never explain or defend your religion. Excusing yourself from the room, as you did, makes the point, but you can also do this by gently replying that your religion is not something you discuss socially. Some of your friends may then dimly recall that there is an etiquette rule against doing so, but, at any rate, you need not be embarrassed about refusing to be drawn in.

Another is that public concern with questions of criminal abuse of authority does not constitute an attack on your faith, but on individuals who have violated its dictates.

Finally, Miss Manners agrees that wholesale indictments, such as you found implied in your friends' questions, are offensive. That is why you should not blame problems of serious misbehavior on the legitimate "media coverage" of them.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was taught that when one writes out numbers (or says them aloud), one should not include the word "and" except to denote decimals. For example, the number 832 should be written "eight hundred thirty-two," not "eight hundred and thirty-two."

Wedding invitations, however, seem to ignore this rule. The date of the wedding is spelled out, and 2002 inevitably becomes "two thousand and two." My mother and I argued over this for quite a while, and since I was unable to find examples of invitations that left out the "and," she won. (There are more important things to argue about, anyway.) I would like to know how you think the year should be put into print on invitations.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners is happy to hear that you have more important things to argue about, because everybody you mention loses -- you, your mother and all who issued those wedding invitations.

The year does not belong on the invitation at all, as it should be obvious that one is not being invited to an event some years in advance. Similarly, it is not necessary to specify morning, afternoon or evening, as one should not expect people to attend weddings at such times as six in the morning or 11 at night.

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