DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a single man of 39, and I was seated on a bench, indoors at the local pharmacy, waiting the (seemingly interminable) 40 minutes for the pharmacist to fill my orders.

A darling little girl of about 3 years old, in a frilly pink dress, was seated to my right. I looked to the head of the line (about 15 feet away) at the pharmacist's checkout counter and saw a young woman whom I took to be the child's mother.

This little girl was anxious to show off her new shoes and backpack, and she initiated a conversation with me. I smiled indulgently and warmly feigned interest in what she was showing me.

The woman at the counter spun around to see what was going on. So, in order to allay her fears that I might be a kidnapper or pedophile or something equally awful and topical, I smiled reassuringly at the woman and doubled the volume of my voice so that she might hear the innocuous content of my conversation.

The little girl was thrilled with my attention to her -- so much so that she, unbidden, literally climbed over the padded gray armrest to my right and sat in my lap! She continued inventorying to me her new pink and silver school supplies, as I kindly cooed interest over them, trying to see what magic they obviously held for her. The innocent forwardness of the child didn't bother me in the least; I am a substitute teacher, adore children and am good with them.

But when the mother saw the child in my arms, her eyes widened, she flew over, snatched the bewildered child from my lap and delivered me the most hateful and accusatory facial expression imaginable.

If this weren't dismaying enough, the pharmacy checkout lady -- when she finally handed me my meds -- narrowed her eyes to slits, and icily dismissed me.

Miss Manners, just exactly what was I guilty of here? Has American society gotten this sick, distrustful and alienated? And we live in a small Texas town, no less! How could I have handled the situation better?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners understands that she is expected to do a number about the outrageous implied insult of a mother's objecting to finding her daughter sitting on a stranger's lap, and then to bemoan the state of a society that produces such vile suspicions.

But the fact is that society is better off acknowledging the dangers to children that, unfortunately, have always existed. If you think that children ought to be kept charmingly innocent in their trust of strangers and that adult strangers ought to know that they can trust you to cuddle with their children, there is no difference in maturity between you and the little girl.

If, however, you are a teacher who has the interests of children at heart, you should have begun the lesson this child's mother should have taught her. You should have firmly placed her back in her chair, saying in a matter-of-fact tone, "Now you sit there, and I'll sit here. I can see your pretty things just as well, and this way, you can stay within sight of your mother, which I'm sure she told you to do."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am writing to inquire about your feelings on adults feeding adults in public places, such as restaurants. I have seen this occur while dining out.

GENTLE READER: You cannot imagine how many feelings Miss Manners spares herself from entertaining by the simple device of not peering at other diners in public places.

Similarly, she is sparing herself from worry that you might be referring to the perfectly polite practice of helping someone who has physical difficulties, and not just complaining about the silly practice of adults thrusting forks at one another while saying, "Here, try this."

:

The friends who give those wonderful annual parties you never miss are not as happy to greet many of you as they are gracious enough to pretend.

Where have you been all year?

Are you sure you were invited this year?

Come to think of it, who are you, anyway?

Year 'round, Miss Manners provides a sympathetic shoulder for those who have come to be known as People Who Still Entertain. Many of their guests think of them as a subdivision of People Who Still Wear Spats -- eccentrics who are pleasant company, but whom no one in his right mind would think of imitating.

What is it that these genial folk do that is so strange?

They invite friends home instead of meeting them at restaurants. They mark special occasions, theirs and other people's, with parties. They give dinner parties for no reason other than to get people together whose company they enjoy and think would enjoy one another's, undertaking all the planning and work themselves.

What do they get in return?

Lots of happy times, pleasant memories, and the satisfaction of knowing that their hospitality has been a source of delight for others.

And that, along with the odd bottle of wine handed over at the door, ought to be enough, their guests believe. That hosts should also expect definitive replies to their invitations and honored commitments strikes the people from whom they expect this as excessive.

Indeed, anyone who has not quit entertaining altogether has already scaled down his or her expectations, forfeiting most traditional hostly privileges. Guests have long since ceased to allow their hosts to control such things as time of arrival or departure, guest list, menu or dress code, and instead routinely announce that they are arriving late, going on to another party, bringing someone extra, eating selectively and not dressing up.

But People Who Still Entertain do cherish the hope that some day they, too, will be invited to cross the thresholds of some of their guests. They do occasionally get reciprocal invitations, but these tend to be to meet people in restaurants, attend fund-raisers or otherwise tag along and entertain themselves at what their sort-of hosts are planning to do anyway.

Then there is what one Gentle Reader calls the half-invitation. "Our acquaintances don't seem to be able to actually fully invite us to do things. Instead we get e-mails or phone messages such as, 'We really enjoyed going to the emu races with you last Saturday. We should get together again sometime soon. Give us a call sometime. Thanks, Pat & Pat.' I believe they are sincere, just indecisive or wanting others to take charge. We don't mind being the instigators, it's just that sometimes we'd like to let others take charge and let us relax and enjoy the company."

Not that the guests necessarily demand this formality for themselves. For many, an invitation consists of them asking the hosts when the annual party will be, or just faithfully showing up and not bothering them in between.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have a sister who has told our other siblings that she plans on being artificially inseminated this year. I cannot think of anything polite to say about this, for a variety of reasons.

I think my sister will make a horrible parent. I do not want to give her the impression that I approve of her having a child, but she is my sister and I don't want to alienate her. What can I say without being rude when she tells me she is pregnant?

GENTLE READER: "Congratulations."

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I often attend live performances at the end of which the performers will acknowledge people in the audience. When someone on the stage announces an audience member by name, there is usually polite applause.

What is the proper response for the audience member whose name is announced? Should he or she stand? Remain seated? Thank the performer with a nod of the head or wave of the hand? Acknowledge the other folks in the audience? Is it considered rude to NOT stand?

I have seen a great deal of reactions ranging from jumping out of chairs to arm-waving and blowing of air-kisses to embarrassed smiles and nods to seat mates. How SHOULD one react politely in that situation?

GENTLE READER: In reverse of the usual consequences of uncertain behavior, the people who look embarrassed and uncertain about what to do are the ones who are the most charming. Miss Manners hates to spoil anyone's natural tendency in that direction by announcing that it is the proper thing to do.

Jumping up and waving at the audience shows far too much enthusiasm for credit. Even on-stage performers are supposed to bow humbly to receive their applause. A member of the audience should turn and half-rise with a shy smile, waving only if there is a sustained and tumultuous ovation that requires that signal before it will abate.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am employed by a small firm that provides professional services. Consistent with the norm for my profession, a portion of my compensation arrives in the form of occasional bonuses, the existence, timing, and amount of which rest in the sole discretion of the firm's partners.

All of my colleagues at the firm understand that their base salaries are comparatively low to reflect the fact that they will participate, through bonuses, in the expected financial success of the firm.

I have just been chided by one of the firm's partners for my lapse in failing to thank him for a mid-year bonus. I certainly felt silent gratitude, but had been taught that an employee should not insult the dignity of service by thanking his employer for each compensation of office. To my understanding, this includes bonuses, which are fundamentally compensation, albeit contingent and arbitrary. Of course, one still must thank one's employer for courtesies beyond compensation, such as granting a vacation request for a particular date, or permitting one to leave early for errands.

I offered this rationale to my miffed employer. He warned me that I had relied upon "bad advice" in this regard, and if such a rule ever existed it is antiquated and no longer has any basis.

Have I erred? I cannot bear to think so.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners cannot bear the notion that the grace notes of politeness should be ripped from the ordinary transactions of life that can be reasonably expected. By that reasoning, no one should ever praise you for a job well done, because that is what you are being paid to do.

Absolutely, you should thank them when they grant the requests you list. What does it cost you?

: