DEAR MISS MANNERS: For my job at a country club, I often have to call people to promote events or for similar reasons. Much as I dislike being so much like a telemarketer, I have no choice.

That said, my question is about talking to nannies. Most of the nannies who answer the phone speak very little English, usually only enough to convey that the woman I am trying to reach is not home. I tend to ask to call back and leave a message on the machine, because I've found that any human message-taker is almost always unreliable (I include myself in this), and if they don't even understand the language...

However, I have this nagging feeling that I'm being rude -- after all, I usually don't do this if I somehow catch someone who does speak English -- though I can't think of a better response, short of calling repeatedly and driving the poor nanny nuts.

GENTLE READER: E-mail.

Or -- if you can imagine such a thing still existing -- letters.

Miss Manners recognizes the delicacy of your worrying that you might be discriminating against a foreigner by not imposing on her time. But she assures you that calls to deliver information that is more convenient to have in writing are an equal opportunity nuisance and alternative methods should be used.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Our daughter's boyfriend is staying with us for a few months, and while he's been no trouble as a houseguest, his dinner-table habits are somewhat revolting. We are at a loss on how to improve the situation.

We are not talking about knowing which fork to use -- there's only one, and it's a meat-and-potatoes, family-style meal. We are talking about hunkering over the plate with both elbows on the table, pushing food onto the fork with the fingers, stabbing meat like it's got to be killed before it can be hacked apart, then blatantly dissecting to separate unwanted elements from each bite.

I've managed to stop him from digging in before the rest of the family is seated by announcing, "I'll be right there; please wait and we'll pray." I've watched for opportunities to correct my own children -- "Elbows off the table, please" -- but the subtlety is lost on him.

I have noticed my daughter bump his elbow off the table occasionally, but mostly she ignores the problem. How can I help this college student who eats like a 2-year-old? He might be my son-in-law someday.

GENTLE READER: Not if he thinks he will be treated like a 2-year-old and instructed on how to eat. By you, at any rate. That's your daughter's job.

It seems that she realizes this, but is understandably reluctant to keep nagging him (which would also head off the problem of his being your son-in-law).

Miss Manners advises her to inquire, matter-of-factly and in private, if he wouldn't like to take the opportunity of learning table manners that would serve him in whatever circumstances to which he aspires.

If so, let them conduct the lessons in private and try to ignore his lapses. If not, you -- and your daughter -- will at least know what to expect. Bad table manners merely reflect a lack of training; a bad attitude reflects a lack of the quality you should most want in a son-in-law.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I purchased a nonfiction title about 1,300 pages in length, logic would suggest that with a work-a-day life, it will take some time to finish.

My girlfriend reads a good deal herself, and has plenty of her own reading material, but almost every time I see her reading lately, she's in the middle of the same copy I purchased for myself to read. I am not wholly frustrated by the fact, but I do feel as if I have purchased a meal that, before I've had a chance to finish, someone else has started to nibble from it, or someone has tried on my new shirt before I've had a chance to wear it.

What are the rules of etiquette for addressing this situation? Or maybe a better question would be, is there anything here worth addressing?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners suggests that you address the lady before you find yourself addressing a courtroom to explain why you had to dispatch her.

Although she thinks of herself as a tolerant soul who is always urging people to make allowances for one another's little foibles, Miss Manners can be pushed too far. And appropriating a book that a housemate is in the middle of reading is a classic definition of Too Far. If the lady is also making little noises of amusement or astonishment as she reads, or relating favorite parts to you, it is beyond all human decency.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was dining on rabbit at an upscale restaurant when I noticed I had a small bone in my mouth. Now, I am not an expert on etiquette, but I seemed to recall that when one finds something disagreeable in their mouth at dinner, the proper course of action is to lift your fork to your mouth and discreetly discard the unpalatable item on your fork, and replace it on your plate.

My girlfriend found this offensive and called me on it. I tried to explain that I thought it was proper etiquette but she wasn't buying it. Can you help clear this matter up for us?

GENTLE READER: Yes, yes, you are right: inedible parts are discreetly taken out the way they went in (fork or fingers), with the exception that, although fish is eaten with a fork, the fingers are used to remove bones from the mouth.

But what Miss Manners wants to clear up is what alternative the lady proposed. Lodging the bone in your mouth until you left the restaurant? Swallowing it? Did you have a quarrel before the incident that you failed to mention?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I got an invitation to a floating shower for a wedding. What is this? I was told by a friend that you drop off the gift and are given a covered meal and leave. Can this be true?

GENTLE READER: Oh, sure. There are a lot of greedy people floating around, and one of them was bound to come up with the idea of collecting the loot without having to associate with the donors. The next clever person will think of charging for the meal.

Meanwhile, Miss Manners has a question of her own:

Can it be true that people comply with such instructions?

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Perhaps it was not a good idea to make feasting the touchstone of cultural identity and respect.

If you are one of us (the test goes), you naturally relish our food. And if you are not one of us, you had better make it clear to us that eating what we offer is the treat of your lifetime. If not, we will be dangerously insulted. Finish up and beg for more, or we'll know you don't love us.

Miss Manners was not consulted when that standard was instituted. It happened somewhere around the dawn of civilization, before she had her coffee.

No doubt it sounded like fun -- the ancient combination of offering hospitality to strangers while sizing them up as candidates to become allies or enemies. Interviews over lunch, as it were. And, incidentally, a great excuse for overdoing it yourself.

Also, it stood to reason: Anyone who doesn't like our cuisine must be nuts. If you find our treats distasteful, or are squeamish about what we consider edible, or show only tepid enthusiasm by limiting your intake -- well, we know what the symbolic meaning of that is.

And so, for thousands of years now, enthusiastic gobbling has been the sign of approval and acceptance. Hosts and parents take pride in offering more than is necessary to merely sate hunger, and consider it their obligation to urge others to keep going after they declare they have reached their limits. At weddings, wakes and holidays, serious eating is expected. Diplomats and politicians understand that it is no small part of their jobs to shovel in the food and shovel out the admiration.

Miss Manners would have no objection if there were not so many who have difficulty participating. Among those whose goodwill is larger than their capacity are now too many people who want to lose weight, or who have medical, religious or philosophical restrictions on what they eat, or who can't help being squeamish about certain things, or who are just plain not that hungry.

Etiquette did institute rules to protect them. It is rude to notice what a guest leaves untouched or unfinished, and while it is hospitable to offer food, it is rude to insist.

But these rules are directed at the providers, and they become too much aglow with their own magnanimity to pay any attention. "Oh, come on," they keep repeating to rising gorges.

The etiquette burden then passes to these reluctant beneficiaries. Their part is to keep repeating "No, thank you" until the bullying stops, but they don't seem to have the staying power. When they know they will be unable to make a meal from what will be provided and still want to attend for social reasons, they should deal with their hunger both before and after the event.

Unfortunately, many have turned to reciprocal rudeness. They call their hosts in advance to order the food they want, they bring their own food, they lecture others on why the food provided is morally or medically bad.

Thus, instead of a legitimate minority deflecting rudeness, they help create the same etiquette-free standoff that exists between nonsmokers and smokers. And Miss Manners cannot stomach another helping of that.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When did it become against the "law" to wear pearls in the daytime? Is it OK to wear pearls to a big fancy luncheon?

GENTLE READER: Wearing pearls day or night was illegal under periodic sumptuary laws in Venice and Florence between the 16th and 18th centuries, but Miss Manners understands that they have since been repealed. Pearls are now properly worn at any hour. Just don't let her catch you running around decked in diamonds before dusk.

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