AMONG the many English customs which have been introduced into American society there is none that sooner attained a widespread popularity than afternoon tea—a simple and easy form of entertainment, that entailed little expense and less trouble upon the hostess, and supplied a long-felt want. Soon all over the land teas were the rage, and in large cities and small villages alike cards were flying about, bearing upon them the name of the hostess, and in one corner, "Tea at five o'clock" or "Tea from four to six," as the case might be.

With the usual tendency of the citizens of this great and glorious country to impress upon the fashions borrowed from other nations the stamp of their own individuality, it was not long before the stereotyped tea, bread-and-butter, and cake, which had at first made up the menu of these entertainments, began to undergo modifications. First, chocolate was added, on the plea that many people do not care for tea. Bouillon came next, and the use of this served as the basis of that absurd report, instantly accepted by foreigners, that the American young women were so fragile in constitution as to be obliged to brace themselves up with strong beef tea at their receptions, in order to enable them to perform their social duties. With bouillon came sandwiches; next appeared salad, and after that oysters, croquettes, creams, ices, and charlottes followed one another in rapid succession, until the metamorphosis of the modest tea into the reception, with its heavy party supper, was complete.

Part of this change may be attributed to the display and love of competition which are numbered among our national characteristics. But at least a portion of the blame must fall upon the participants in these entertainments, who, not understanding that a tea to be a tea must be simple, did not hesitate to grumble at the trifling nature of the refreshments there offered for their delectation.

"I am sick of your afternoon teas!" grumbled one lord of creation, when informed that the family had just received cards to one of these affairs. "I like to go to a place where you get something to eat besides a cup of beef tea and a cracker, or tea and bread-and-butter. It isn't the kind of supper a hungry man wants when he comes from his business. He needs something hearty."

Ignorant and boorish though he was, he voiced the sentiment of many of his sex, who, owing to the training American society has furnished in this respect, consider no party a success unless the social enjoyments are supplemented by a big "spread." In England, where the dinner hour falls later than it usually does in this country, the light sustenance offered by afternoon tea serves as a welcome break in the long stretch which intervenes between luncheon and dinner. Here a man who has his appetite whetted for a six-o'clock repast cares little for a trifling refection at five or half after five. It only serves to blunt his hunger without satisfying it.

Of course, as soon as the tea was merged into the virtual equivalent of an evening party given in the daytime, its recommendation as a cheap and convenient method of entertaining one's friends vanished. While one merely dropped in for a cup of tea on the way home from calls or shopping, a plain walking gown or visiting costume was perfectly appropriate. But with the increased formality of the tea arose the necessity for richer dress, and the afternoon kettle-drum became a kind of heterogeneous-looking assembly, where, at five o'clock in the afternoon, some of the women would appear in evening gowns, with low necks and short sleeves, and some in street suits, while the men, of course, wore morning coats; although in small towns the sight of men in dress suits before six o'clock is an anomaly too often witnessed.

Even apart from the matter of dress, other difficulties and complications arose. Persons in moderate circumstances who had rejoiced at the advent of the tea, because it rendered feasible the gratification of their hospitable instincts at an outlay within their means, shrank back in dismay from this hybrid form of assembly, declaring that it was as easy to give a regular evening party, and get the credit for that, as it was to receive guests in a fashion which assumed simplicity, but cost no less than an affair that made more show.

A few women have had the courage to adhere to what was the original design of the afternoon tea, and to offer their guests only the light refreshments suitable for this form of entertaining. To such people the labor connected with thus gathering their friends about them is a trifling task. The hostess sees that her rooms are in their best looks; fills a few vases with fresh flowers, to give a festal air; sets a round-table in her drawing-room or library, or in the dining-room, if these apartments are en suite; draws up her prettiest cups and saucers and plates in battle array, and invites a few young girls or intimate friends to assist her. They wear either pretty house costumes or dainty tea gowns. For refreshments are provided tea and chocolate, possibly bouillon, bread-and-butter or tiny sandwiches, and plenty of light cakes. The eating is a secondary matter, the raison d'Être of the company being the desire for pleasant social intercourse in an informal fashion.

The woman who has a regular "at home" or a weekly "afternoon tea" during the season provides even less. She has tea or cocoa—rarely both—bread-and-butter or fancy biscuit, and cake. The toasted muffins or crumpets and the many tea-cakes dear to the British palate are little in vogue here, where the dinner hour is almost invariably six or half after six. Very few are the houses where daily afternoon tea is the rule.

Numberless pretty adjuncts can be procured to contribute to the attractiveness of the kettle-drum. The tall crane, with its brass, copper, or silver kettle, the daintily embroidered tea and tray cloths, the fine fringed or hem-stitched doilies, the exquisite china, the quaint teapot, the cozy, the odd dishes for cake and biscuit—all afford opportunity for the display of a cultured taste or of a quick fancy. Nothing need be very costly, but everything must be pretty, and in this day the combination of beauty and cheapness is by no means difficult or unusual.

The cards for an afternoon tea bear simply the name of the hostess, and that of her daughter if the latter is "out," and in the corner is written or engraved "Tea" or "At Home," and the day and the hour of the entertainment. The card of any friend who is visiting the hostess, or who entertains with her, is enclosed in the same envelope. If the invited guest cannot be present, she sends her card, by post or by private hand, so that it may reach the hostess upon the day when she receives.

Those people who live in the country, or who are so fortunate as to possess summer places out of town, can give charming outdoor teas, which far surpass in pleasantness anything that can be devised in the city. We Americans live too much in the house, and that, too, in a climate which offers great facilities for a freer mode of life. A tea on a lawn or veranda when the air is full of the perfume of flowers and the country is in its holiday trim is a delight to all those lucky enough to be invited to it. For such a kettle-drum, iced tea and lemonade or claret-cup, sandwiches, and cake may be offered, with berries or other fruits when these are in season.