DEAR MISS MANNERS: Our baby's nanny is beloved to all of us, and we'd like to invite her to be our guest at the first-birthday party. If she attends, should we pay her for her time and for carfare?

GENTLE READER: Absolutely.

No doubt your nanny loves the baby dearly and wouldn't miss the party for the world. But hard as it may be for you, as parents, to imagine, she also has her own life and other ways to spend her free time.

Furthermore, she is not going to stand staring out the window if the baby needs something while you are not in immediate attendance. So there she would be, giving up her free time to work for free.

Miss Manners would consider the most gracious solution to be first merely to ask the nanny to be there and to pay her for that in advance or offer a compensatory day off, but then, at the event itself, to say, "I'm sure I can manage -- please just consider yourself a guest and have a good time."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Here in the United States, people just say "hello" when answering the telephone, and to me it's very impolite not to say at least your first name.

It is also very confusing because I have to ask the person that has answered who it is. Some people in the same family can have very similar voices. I am from Scandinavia, and there we answer with your full name, and some people even say their telephone number. Is there a historic explanation? Privacy thing? Safety issue?

GENTLE READER: Actually, there is an historic reason. Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone, was startled enough during the first test simply to shout to his assistant, "Mr. Watson, come here, I want you!" Although this remains the attitude of most callers, it is impolite to assume that others should be at your beck and telephone call.

Dr. Bell then thought better of it and suggested "Hoy, hoy," but it was Thomas Edison who refined this by inventing the word "Hello."

Miss Manners agrees that the current American social system, by which the caller then has to guess whom he has reached, is awkward. (The business system does require answering with the name of the person and/or business. And sometimes using the telephone system's identification system solves the problem, although people do make calls from telephones other than their own, and home lines usually serve more than one person.)

It results in such nonsensical floundering as:

"Tony?"

"No."

"Oh, I'm trying to reach Tony. Is this his son? You sound just like him."

"Who are you and what do you want?"

But it strikes Miss Manners as the responsibility of the caller, not the callee, to give an identification first, as is done in some countries. The callee could well cite a safety or privacy issue, or could simply want to pretend he is someone else when he finds out who is calling.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I manage a busy office in a large organization that prides itself on its political correctness, among other things.

About two-thirds of our staff are women, who regularly greet each other with hugs, pecks on the cheek or quick shoulder rubs. The camaraderie and team spirit are wonderful to see, but they unfortunately do not extend to the male members of the staff. Our training about sexual harassment has left male staffers wary of touching anyone, male or female.

This leads to awkward scenes, when, for example, a mixed group arrives for a meeting, the women are all greeted with hugs, and the men get a cursory "Hi, John."

I fear that we are actually creating a workplace that is hostile to men with this behavior, and a few of our male staff have confided feeling this way to me. I have contemplated a "no hugs" rule for everyone, but it seems rather cold and may exceed my authority as the manager of just one part of a large organization. Any suggestions?

GENTLE READER: That you realize that there is something between hugs and cold. In the context of the workplace, that means requiring professional behavior.

However much female members of your staff love one another (and have you considered how this would affect colleagues they didn't?), an office is no place for such physical demonstrations, whether or not they meet the definition of sexual harassment. There would be no question of that if you hired a married couple, but Miss Manners imagines that you still wouldn't want to have them canoodling on the job.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My boyfriend and I purchased our first home a year ago, in a modest neighborhood in the suburbs. We are very happy here and for the most part we keep to ourselves. We have met our neighbors, but we only know them well enough to wave as we pass, which seems to be an acceptable state of affairs for everyone involved.

This afternoon, however, I was sitting on my front porch and I happened to overhear our next-door neighbor complaining about us to the neighbor across the street. I'm sure he didn't know I was within earshot.

Unfortunately for my curiosity, I could only hear that his complaint was definitely about us, but not what we might be doing to make him complain. We don't invite rowdy people over, we don't allow our dogs to bark or run loose, we try to keep the place looking nice. I really have no idea what the problem might be.

So now that I know that we are causing strife in the neighborhood, what do I do with this information? This neighbor has never indicated to us that there is a problem. Should I wait to see if he says something to us, since he doesn't know I heard him? Should I tell him what I heard? I'd rather not continue causing offense to anyone, and certainly not someone I have to live next to.

GENTLE READER: Nor do you want your neighbor to go around complaining that you are eavesdropping on him. So confessing is not a good idea.

But doing something neighborly is. Miss Manners suggests leaving him a bouquet of flowers from your garden or a plate of cookies with a pleasant note.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I received a dinner invitation from a notable hostess who told me whom she had invited, and, looking forward to relaxation and pleasant conversation, I accepted. The quality of her dinners is legendary.

On the appointed evening, everything went wonderfully until minutes before the meal was to be served, when several uninvited guests showed up outside the hostess' door.

These last-minute arrivals are not precisely ax murderers, but they are very nearly the last people on earth with whom I'd choose to spend an evening; if Madame Hostess had made me aware that they were going to put in an appearance, I would have politely declined her invitation.

They are relatives of the hostess, who felt that her kinship with them compelled her to open her door to them and invite them to join her at the dinner. From the point of view of the invited guests, the dinner was ruined; the gate crashers made themselves quite at home and ended up spending the night, so it wasn't as if the invitees merely had to be patient for a couple of hours to achieve the dinner to which they thought they had been invited.

I appreciate her family loyalty, Miss Manners, and recognize that she is entitled to open her door to whomever she wishes. But doesn't etiquette require some sort of Truth-in-Invitations? How can one feel comfortable in accepting invitations if the guests and atmosphere are subject to change between receiving the invitation and the event itself?

Were the disappointed guests churlish to resent these last-minute interlopers?

GENTLE READER: They certainly don't seem kindly disposed toward their hostess.

Miss Manners begs you to remember that this was an offer of hospitality, not a business proposition. Although the hostess told you whom she was expecting, she was under no obligation to do so. Time, place, dress and type of party (Will a meal be served? Are you expected to play charades?) are the only required clues.

You are supposed to trust her to put together a pleasant guest list -- and, incidentally, to want to attend for the sake of being with her.

If you don't like or trust her enough to take your chance, why didn't you decline? But since you accepted, why don't you like her enough to sympathize with her dilemma and trust that she handled it as best she could?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Today we received the following admonition in our office e-mail. The gentlemen who sent it is new to his supervisory position in our office and was transferred to his new position from a former post in computer services. "Please do not send any e-mails in all capitol letters. This is very rude and unprofessional. Much like we don't allow yelling in the office, we should not be yelling in our e-mails."

Aside from the misspelling of "capital," is this statement true? Not that any one would type in capital letters, but if she did, is it truly seen as yelling, rude and unprofessional?

GENTLE READER: Well, as a matter of fact, YES, IT DOES. (You see? And do forgive Miss Manners for dramatizing the point.)

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