DEAR MISS MANNERS: I understand that it is considered rude to place a full plate of food before a guest, and that food should always be served to guests at the table, or in their full view. I am curious as to the reasoning behind this practice. Does it come from a medieval fear of someone poisoning the food?

GENTLE READER: Do you mean on the part of hosts who are saving on poison by not presenting the targeted guest with a platter from which he could select his own? Whereas polite murderers offered platters from which their guests could, as we say, choose their own poison?

Miss Manners knows how delicious those stories are, adding a sort of computer-game version of medieval machinations to mundane customs. She is sorry to report that such explanations nearly always arise retroactively with little or no support from stodgy old history.

Slapping down individual plates that have been filled in the kitchen, thus depriving the eater of choices about particular foods and portions, is a 20th-century convenience developed by restaurants. Before then, and in proper service now, guests help themselves from platters they pass to one another, or are served at the table by servants or their hosts.

The traditional guard against poison, among those important enough to fear it, was to insist that someone else -- preferably the putative poisoner, but usually and less conveniently all around, a servant -- taste the dish first. Thus that annoying person who keeps sticking a fork into your plate is the safest choice of dinner companion.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We are a home-schooling family. My eldest daughter will be finishing her high school curriculum in June, and I would like to mark this event in a way that honors her accomplishments and expresses our gratitude to all those who have played a role in her education.

I am considering a reception tea on a Sunday afternoon, but am not certain if there should be some small ceremony in conjunction. We certainly do not have a diploma to give, but perhaps her father could speak a few words about her, or she could offer a brief talk of thanks.

Is there a precedent, outside of public school graduations, that we could follow to commemorate the completion of a secondary education before embarking on college?

GENTLE READER: Please convey Miss Manners' congratulations to your daughter for getting herself a new assignment: designing a home ritual for one.

And here is your teaching guide:

In private hospitality, as opposed to public ceremonies, the first consideration must be the guests. Formal graduations are given by schools, not individuals, and the willingness to sit still to hear about other people's children's achievements depends on immediate reciprocity.

The way around this is to spread the honors. If your daughter knows other home-schoolers, they could devise a small joint ceremony for their families. Otherwise, an acknowledgement of her achievements -- by having her parent-educators say just a few words, perhaps in a toast -- should be embedded in a social form directed at others. At the party you suggest, her job of briefly thanking guests for their support should be the main feature. Another possibility would be for her to give a graduation party for her school-attending friends, at which there is a reference to this also being her graduation ceremony, with an extremely short and preferably lighthearted version of a ceremony.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: One evening out with my wife and four young children at a family restaurant, the children were less than well-behaved. As we were preparing to leave, my wife went to the childless couple at the table next to ours and said, "I want to apologize for my children's behavior." The man's reply (without the courtesy of even looking at her) was, "You ought to."

How does one politely react to this?

GENTLE READER: By saying graciously, "And I'm sure your mother, if she were here, would do the same for you."

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is there any way to inoffensively and effectively address dangerous driving when riding as passenger in a car? I would be grateful for just the right words to use when the driver insists on maintaining eye contact with passengers (rather than watching the road) and/or tailgates at high speed. The situation is especially difficult when the driver is a boss, colleague or customer.

GENTLE READER: Words are not what is required here. Miss Manners trusts that cries of warning ("Watch out!") and relief ("That was a close one!") arise from you spontaneously, but they tend not to affect the general driving level.

She recommends the technique perfected by mothers of new drivers: noisy intakes of breath and foot stamping on a phantom brake at the passenger's seat.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: After retiring one evening, I was startled when my beloved wife's chilled feet instinctively burrowed into my warm back. The resulting commotion caused a bit of discussion.

My wife declared that "a real gentleman would not comment on the state of a lady's feet." While peeling myself off the ceiling and gasping for breath, I countered that such comments are inevitable.

My lovely wife argued that, as her husband, I should rescue her from her distress, and to complain about the temperature of her feet is boorish. I stated that this particular "rescuing" seems to happen on a fairly regular basis, so how can I avoid offending her sensitivities?

Can you, Miss Manners, advise us on how a "real gentleman" is supposed to act under such duress?

GENTLE READER: Your wife has lofty arguments, with which no gallant husband should disagree. But does she also have bed socks? Miss Manners suggests they would make a thoughtful present from a devoted husband who cares only for his wife's comfort.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Through reading your books, I have discovered, to my chagrin, that I have committed etiquette sins of the worst kind -- those against sensibility. I have blithely offered my honest opinions to some who did and many who didn't ask for them, thinking that it was far more virtuous to tell the truth than to tactfully dissemble.

I have received the joyful announcements of expectant friends with open dismay about raising a child in today's world.

I have hung around the bridal vestry, camera in hand, to preserve the moment for the bride -- uninvited! I have failed to attend weddings for which I accepted invitations. Not only have I attended weddings as "And Guest," I have burdened the bride with my gift at the reception. I have attended weddings dressed in black, white and red.

There were more, too many to enumerate here but equally awful.

It has been many years now that I have been a reformed human and, I hope, have avoided repetitions of my past sorry performances. But I am not exaggerating when I tell you that my past transgressions keep me awake at night. I wince at myself.

I fear that in wishing to apologize to those I have offended in the past that I may be trying to assuage my own remorse at their expense. And it may be doubly selfish because I assume that each is equally consumed with my behavior as I am. Yet I feel that it is too late or wrong to apologize. What shall I do?

GENTLE READER: Although she is always happy to hear of saved souls, you worry Miss Manners. Years of being up all night wincing cannot be good for you.

So here is how you clear your conscience without making a spectacle of your remorseful self: Write about your friends, instead of yourself. Tell them that you appreciate their friendship, including putting up with you in your more callow days.

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