DEAR MISS MANNERS: I brought my neighbor, a well-brought-up young man who recently moved here from a small town to attend college, to his very first opera, "La Traviata."

During the first act, the couple in front of us discussed each duet, the costumes and almost everything else. I tried your patented Miss Manners glare, but as they were in front of us, it had little effect. I tried a subtle "harrumph." Then a bit less discreet throat-clearing. Nothing worked.

In desperation, just before the curtain was to rise on the second act, I turned to my guest and -- in a voice loud enough to carry to the row in front -- said, "I can't believe some people are so rude as to speak during the performance. I am glad to see your parents taught you how to behave at a performance."

I then winked and nodded to the folks in front of us.

He caught my meaning. At the end of the second act, the loud man in front stood, turned around, and began to berate me for implying that he and his wife were misbehaving.

He became so nasty and belligerent, I roused myself from my dumbstruck silence and finally interrupted his rant by telling him to either sit down and remain quiet or I would call an usher (the most severe punishment I can possibly imagine at the opera).

The man responded by grabbing my throat. Fortunately, my guest was quickly able to intervene and the man was removed.

These days, I realize people shout to actors on the screen at movie theaters and one may talk on the phone at a concert with near-impunity. However, I thought the opera was the last bastion of civility.

What are we to do? How can we protect our institutions from this plague?

GENTLE READER: Opera, the last bastion of civility? Miss Manners, who attends alarmingly often, could have disabused you of that fantasy. This is not the first story she has heard of (attempted) murder at the opera in real life.

But there was provocation. The original rudeness did not justify your encouraging further rudeness by denouncing these people in their and others' hearing. The time to call an usher was when he got your goat, not your throat.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How do you eat poached pears at a formal dinner?

GENTLE READER: With one eye on your dinner partner, so as to make sure you are not sharing the juice.

Miss Manners trusts that you will be properly armed with a dessert fork and a dessert spoon, and you will find yourself grateful to have both.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: It seems my friends are quite willing to meet for lunch, or to do something specific, but I have no luck at all in getting them simply to "visit."

"Visiting" used to be a popular way to see and hear about your friends. It was certainly superior to a telephone call or today's e-mail. Not all of my friends have hectic lives. And I am an interesting person and a very good listener. (I am a retired psychologist.) Do you have any suggestions as to how to encourage the lost art of visiting?

GENTLE READER: Mention the refreshments. Tea, drinks, coffee, popcorn, dessert -- Miss Manners doesn't care what, and neither do your guests. But these are the words we now use to delineate the routine of the short one-on-one visit, which guests need to know.

The old-fashioned "visit" of which you speak had a strict form, with a 15-minute limitation. It survives only in the hospital visit, where your guests ought to know that they should not prolong the stay or help themselves to the chocolates you have been sent.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Please advise my daughter on how to respond to adults who ask her nosy and/or personal questions, such as what her dress size is, what she made on the SAT, and what colleges she is applying to.

These individuals have no interest other than to compare my daughter to their children. They would never pose such questions to another adult. They only ask my daughter such things when I am not around. My daughter doesn't want to say, "That's personal." Nor does she want to lie.

I instructed her to say that she did well and, if pressed, to say that she does not remember her scores (they were excellent). Or, to tell them that her mom said that she could not reveal her scores. What does a young lady say to a nosy adult?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners believes that young ladies should appear modest and differential to adults. It sets them a good example. You might therefore suggest that she look at the floor for a minute and then fix her interlocutors with a steady eye as she says, "I'm a little shy. You go first. What's your dress size? What was your grade point average?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I quit my job a few years ago my mother gave me some good advice: "Make sure you fill up your time with things YOU want to do, otherwise people will fill up your time for you." I planned a nice schedule that includes all the things I love: keeping my home neat, volunteering at my children's school, studying martial arts, heading the children's organization at my church.

Even with all these activities, I still find myself with at least 3 or 4 free hours a day. My friends, neighbors, and family are aware that I have this free time. They all have opinions on how I should use this free time, and are constantly calling to ask me to take someone dinner, serve on this or that committee, teach a lesson in church, baby-sit their children, etc.

I don't want to do these things! I have chosen some wonderful activities for myself, including several that serve the community, and I don't want to take on any more.

Miss Manners, how do I politely tell them "no"? The usual phrase, "I'm afraid I'm not available," is obviously not true -- all these people know that I have lots of free time.

GENTLE READER: If having free time made a lady available to anyone who asked for a favor, there would be no respectable ladies left. Miss Manners wonders that there are (aren't there?), considering how often even wise mothers, such as yours, neglect to teach the ability to say "no" politely.

"I'm afraid I'm not available" is true, and you should be saying it with conviction. Stating what you are doing then is unnecessary and unwise, as it opens you to debate. Should anyone be so rude as to inquire, you may truthfully say, "I'm terribly busy then," without specifying that you will be busy relaxing.

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