DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it considered to be stealing if your gardener just helps himself to your lemons, oranges, etc.?

GENTLE READER: It depends on what is included in the “et cetera” -- or in this case, what is under the pile of leaves in the back of the gardener’s truck.

He has been hired to tend the garden, which, absent express authorization, is not a license to harvest or to hunt. He is expected to dispose of items that you would consider waste, even, Miss Manners notes, if he may not. This includes dead leaves, weeds and other floral detritus (even though he might be able to employ them elsewhere as fertilizer).

It does not include hanging fruit (high or low) or stray pets (dead or alive). Fruit that has fallen to the ground lies in unmarked territory as it has, technically, begun to decompose -- even if it is still bouncing from the fall.

As it would be considerate to provide workers with some nourishment, you might wish to be more explicit and say that while your family plans to pick the apples this evening (though not to count them), you hope he and any assistants will enjoy one each as well.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have grown increasingly frustrated with the need to decipher the time of social invitations. There was a party announced with an 8 p.m. start time, but knowing the host and the guests, I arrived at 9:30 and was still the first to arrive by a long margin.

Sometimes these parties happen in certain minority communities, and this behavior is excused with some self-effacing joke, claiming, “It’s just how we are, we always show up late.” If I am looking forward to the event, I find it very frustrating to sit at home, waiting for the right time to leave so that I’ll arrive at the expected lateness.

Is there an acceptable way to ask a host to be frank about the hour they expect guests to arrive? Is there an acceptable way for a host to say that we would like to start the celebration at a particular time, with all guests present if at all possible?

GENTLE READER: This is an area where a lack of shared custom harms everyone, as most guests do not want to arrive early (or late) and most hosts prefer not to answer the door in their bathrobes.

These days, Miss Manners leans towards the simplest rule: namely, that guests should arrive near the stated time. This will not, unfortunately, solve your specific problem, which must be handled host by host, and perhaps party by party.

If you are in doubt about the expected time, call the host and, in the course of the conversation, ask what time he expects the other guests to arrive. This may not be the same time that the host would like them to be there, but it will save you from having to help set the table and put out the potato chips.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I write to you in a moment of sadness. My birthday was yesterday, and I’m now 31 years old. Of an admittedly small number of friends on social media, the same number as my birthday, only six wished me any sort of birthday sentiment.

I keep my friends list small because they are people I currently interact with or the special few I cherish. The appeal of large swaths of friends, both in life and on social media, has always been lost on me.

The number is not what stung; it was the idea that so many didn’t notice or care about the birthday reminder that popped up. I always write a birthday message when someone else’s pops up, or call to offer well wishes. My best friend and her husband didn’t even text or call, though I think they forgot due to a recent house move.

How can I get over the general bite of how easy it is to be reminded of someone else’s birthday online, while the specific sting of close friends forgetting is still lingering?

I feel very pitiable and old, and am writing this for one reason alone: Your care for the nuance of consideration and the subtlety of social grace has always meant a lot to me in a world of careless inattention and progressively inward-focused urges. I’ve always agreed with your idea that manners and etiquette, when practiced and understood, are for the purpose of social ease and enjoyment, that all may feel welcome and pardoned when necessary. It’s a facet of communication that goes beyond rote statements. It’s a standard of respect.

GENTLE READER: Yes, but it is not a checklist by which you conduct an annual test of your friendships.

It saddens Miss Manners that adult birthdays seem to bring out the worst in people. It is now common to declare how one wants to celebrate -- at the expense of guests, who are also expected to bring presents.

In comparison, your wish is very modest. But while you believe that the ease of responding to an electronic prompting should make it a requirement, Miss Manners sees this as so minimal as to be unimportant. People who are genuinely fond of you, and who exhibit their friendship in other ways, may not dream that you are counting up and brooding over some clicks.

Miss Manners urges you to stop. For your own sake, she urges you to cease thinking of your birthday as a reckoning day. If you want to give yourself a treat, go ahead; if you want to see your friends, invite them as your guests.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Which word, “gift” or “present,” is correct?

GENTLE READER: For fastidious pedants like Miss Manners and probably no one else, “present” is the preferred word. The rationale is that “gift,” as in “gift with purchase,” is too much associated with the commercial world, where it really isn’t one.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We approached our favorite fishing spot. About 40 yards away was another boat. The other fisherman yelled, “Welcome!”

He saw that we were catching fish, and that we released all of the catch. He asked if he could have a fish we caught. We agreed, so he trolled over and took the fish. Everyone was very friendly.

Then his tone changed drastically, and he said, “Leave this spot to other people who don’t get to come every day! Don’t you know fishing etiquette?”

We were surprised. What are fishing-hole manners?

GENTLE READER: Apparently whatever the crusty fisherman there cared to tell you: “Welcome,” “Don’t come back,” and “Give us your fish.”

The etiquette of this particular fishing hole -- Miss Manners doesn’t know if she is more amused or flattered that etiquette was invoked -- seems to be a kind of rough banter that you can take for joking. The reply she suggests is, “Oh, but if we don’t come here, how are you going to get any fish?”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I think I do OK with dinner-table conversation, but mingling at a reception or casual buffet can be really hard. There are all of these groups of two or three people talking with each other, and I figure I should try to talk with them, too.

Should I go up to a group of people who are already talking, and just start listening to the conversation until I can join in? That seems OK if I already know one of the people, but it seems weird if I don’t know them.

Maybe I should just go up to a person who is alone; is that the only option if I don’t know anyone? What if I go up to a group and start listening to a conversation, and then can’t think of a way to join in for five minutes or more? Should I just sneak away?

Also, if I am talking with one person already and a third person comes up and joins in, can I just leave after a while if the two of them seem to be having a good time? I don’t really want to interrupt them just to say that I am going to get a drink, but I also don’t want to be rude by walking off without saying anything.

GENTLE READER: Mingling is not easy, Miss Manners grants. But that is the expected activity at chairless parties. And it doesn’t matter whether you know anyone there, because the rule is, “The roof is an introduction.”

Relieving loners is kind, as well as easy. When you sidle up to a group, they should at least smile at you until they get to a break in the conversation when you can be included. If none of that happens, toss them a smile and just sidle away, no excuse needed. If your group is getting along without you, you can also slip off for better pickings with barely more than a smile.

Freshening one’s drink is the standard parting line, although “I enjoyed talking with you” (if there was any talk at all) works just as well without your having to head to the bar. Remember that the whole premise of such a party is to keep moving.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)