Years ago, we saw it coming.

Hyphenated surnames, which Americans once associated with the sort of comedy in which "Oh, I say!" passes for dialogue, suddenly became common. In the last two or three decades, the double-barreled name, signifier of class-conscious pride, went democratic.

Miss Manners always recognized a strong case for husbands and wives hyphenating their surnames, and for giving children the surnames of both mother and father even if the wife had retained hers alone. Perhaps because she finds it easy to live with anachronisms, or perhaps because she finds it hard to memorize names, she did not advocate abolishing the old naming system and universally adopting the new. Instead, uncharacteristically and at the expense of standardization that makes life blessedly simple, she approved of such hyphenation as freedom of choice.

And thus -- equally uncharacteristically -- ignored the problems it would create for generations yet unborn.

At first, the problem was the discomfort, not to say hostility, that a change to so symbolic a matter always creates. Miss Manners would have thought that this reaction had passed by now, but here are excerpts from a fresh sample:

"What is happening to our world! ... For the life of me I cannot see why these young women are so adamant against using their married name. If you don't want to use your husband's name, why get married? What are they worried about? What do they feel they are giving up when doing that? ... And what of the men? Why do they go along with this crazy arrangement? And what happens when the children arrive? What do they think when they find out their mothers have different names from their fathers?"

Miss Manners has difficulty believing that the use of separate or hyphenated surnames reveals that brides are hostile to their bridegrooms, or that husbands should control their wives. Considering the number of children whose parents never marry or do not stay married, she would not count the mere discovery that parents have different names as much of a trauma.

The most often cited reason for double names is the unfairness of representing the paternal line, and not the maternal, but there are other, practical considerations.

Despite centuries of tradition, it is no less peculiar to shed a surname in adulthood and assume another. Later marriage means that ladies who have built professional reputations on one name have to begin again with another. Increasing divorce leaves identity connections that no longer reflect family connections, and makes a potentially embarrassing lack of distinction between current and past wives. Increasing remarriage leaves veteran brides with dizzying changes, creating confusion among their acquaintances and havoc in the various bureaucracies responsible for keeping track of them.

Now, however, the inevitable problem has arrived. Here it is, from a Gentle Reader who is both hyphenated and pregnant:

"My spouse and I both have compound names; mine is Ms. R.K. Morgan-Foxworth, Ph.D., and his is Dr. Scott Ralston-Jennings III. I had considered adding his surnames on to mine, but it would have read 'R.K. Morgan-Foxworth-Ralston-Jennings.' Try saying that four times fast.

"When our housekeeper answers our phone, the extended greeting makes people think they've reached a law firm.

"What is my child going to do in first grade when challenged with writing her obscenely long name? It seems cruel, but I don't want to insult either set of grandparents, who hold their hyphenated surnames so dear and are expecting to pass on their legacy to their grandchild.

"This modern age of hyphenated and compound names is truly a cruel burden that our parents couldn't have possibly foreseen and now leaves us in such a quandary that any suggestions, no matter how blunt, would be greatly received."

Here is the blunt answer: Start lopping off names. That is what law firms have to do. And don't tell Miss Manners that this is cruel to your parents because they could not possibly have foreseen the problem. They did, as Miss Manners did, and we all cruelly left you to deal with it.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am not a know-it-all and don't monopolize conversations, but I do contribute some factual knowledge in areas that interest me. Numerous times, I've heard, "How come you know so much?"

It has crossed my mind to say, "Was I supposed to get permission?" or "One who doesn't spend one's time riding one's bike in circles tends to pick up a few things." But I'm confident that Miss Manners can suggest a reply that, while not accommodating an apparently peeved attitude, might facilitate social peace.

GENTLE READER: Try "I like to listen to people who know more than I do." Miss Manners suggests following this with a pleasant smile and then a long pause.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am in my 20s and have used a wheelchair for more than a decade, so I am accustomed to pushing myself, shopping, using public transportation, working and otherwise running my life. However, I can't seem to accustom myself to others' reactions to me.

I realize that many, if not all, of the people who make comments about my disability or ask me questions have good intentions. In fact, I think that they frequently believe they are being especially kind and friendly. However, they drive me crazy!

The comments and questions fall into a few general categories:

"You're so inspiring!"

"You're so good at that!" (This refers to something like pushing elevator buttons or drinking from a water fountain or crossing the street unassisted.)

"What's wrong with you?"

"How do you do X?" (e.g., use the toilet, write, fly on an airplane, have sex, etc.)

"I will pray for you." (Or "You should pray for yourself" or "This is God's plan for your life.")

"Let me tell you what will fix you."

"I have a relative/friend/client who has such-and-such condition, and here is her life story."

"Do you have a license for that thing?" (Or "Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket?")

I am only talking about strangers here; these are not people with whom I have any social or professional connections. Often the person is considerably older than I am.

I do not wish to be rude or to leave people feeling bad about their encounters with me. I also don't want to spend much time on them, give out personal information, or do anything to encourage them to behave the same way with the next person with a disability who crosses their path.

People also often offer to help me. I appreciate their kindness and willingness to be of service. If I want their help, I accept it with thanks.

If I don't, I refuse politely. My refusal is frequently followed by increasingly insistent offers of the same help I've just declined, sometimes bolstered with explanations of why I really need it. Occasionally people take it upon themselves to help me without giving any warning. For example, someone might run up behind me and start pushing my wheelchair when I'm going down the street. What is a proper response in these circumstances?

GENTLE READER: "Excuse me, is there some way I can be of assistance to you?"

For the ruder questions, the first two words are boomed out; for others, the words to be emphasized are "I" and "you."

Miss Manners promises that this will produce a dumbfounded look, during which you can say pleasantly, "Well, then, I'll be on my way" and leave.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What do you bring to dinner when invited by another couple?

GENTLE READER: Promptness, cheerfulness, sociability and a sense of social indebtedness strong enough to require you to send a letter of thanks immediately afterward and a reciprocal invitation in the near future. Bringing flowers or candy is optional, and bringing food and drink to anything other than a cooperative party is (Miss Manners assures you, in contradiction of what you are told elsewhere) superfluous.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was stunned to receive an invitation to dinner that read: "Instead of having everyone bring something, we will assemble the feast and split the bill with everyone -- a 'Beggar's Banquet.'"

I thought it was in extremely bad taste -- charging your guests for dinner!

Am I out of touch with the times? Is this a new trend in entertaining? What are the rules of etiquette that apply here?

GENTLE READER: It is true that there has been a trend toward shuffling the obligations of the hosts onto the guests, which is, in turn, part of a larger trend toward squeezing cash and goods out of friends in any way possible.

Miss Manners has been fighting greed and ungraciousness for years, with little hope of success as long as people are intimidated into paying up. Even so, she would have thought that a "beggar's banquet" would be one in which beggars were invited to eat, not one in which the beggar does the inviting.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What are the obligations of amateur musicians who act as professional mourners?

I sing in a local chorus. Sadly, our group has had to sing at the memorial services of several members. We may not all know each other well, but we share this bond of music. So when the deceased or his family has requested a favorite piece, we turn out in force. At some services, we're a large portion of the congregation.

The problem comes when we're not singing, and the deceased's friends deliver informal reminiscences. People close to the family express their sorrow, and the rest of us learn about other facets of the deceased. But too often the unstructured time encourages anecdotes that seem trivial, self-indulgent and long. Some members of the chorus squirm or even leave.

Maybe we need two kinds of memorials: a formal service and an intimate gathering for sharing memories. Failing that, how should a singer who is not an intimate honor the dead?

GENTLE READER: Several traditional events at which mourners reminisce informally about the deceased already exist: the wake, the gathering at the home of the bereaved after the funeral, and the condolence visit.

If there were eulogies at the funeral itself, they were supposed to be formal and serious. But now that funeral ceremonies are patterned on entertainment, people often skip the other events or use them to discuss subjects of more immediate interest to them, such as the dead person's bad health habits or when his real estate will come on the market.

Miss Manners sympathizes with your having to endure meandering, perhaps even tasteless or self-serving tributes to those you do not know well -- although it might be even more painful to hear them for those you do know well.

Nevertheless, you must all stop squirming and stay. As funerals and memorial services are not really meant to entertain, sitting quietly through them is a necessary sign of respect toward your deceased colleague.

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