DEAR MISS MANNERS: We always gave all the support we could to school children on my doorstep raising money for one cause or another, even if we tossed out the candy bars, etc. But then things started to get out of hand in our neighborhood with children pushing and fighting on neighbors' doorsteps, arguing over who had the "right" to be there.

The last straw came for me when one of our neighbor's sons asked us for a pledge of 25 cents for each book he read during a two-week period, which we agreed to. Two weeks later, he appeared to collect my pledge, claiming to have read 500 books and I owed him $125. I refused and later made a donation directly to the principal, since I had intended to support the school.

From that point on, we no longer allowed our son to participate in any fundraising unless it involved work on his part. For all other situations, we made donations. We decided to set priorities for the charities and causes we wished to give to and made contributions directly to them. It has become a budget item each month, and we have control over what and to whom we give.

Anyone appearing on our doorstep receives a polite "No thank you," which I believe is the correct response to an invitation we wish to decline. I do not explain how I make donations or to whom, or even why I choose not to donate to their cause. Just a simple "No thank you."

I hope Miss Manners does not find this too blunt.

GENTLE READER: Not at all. You were too timid.

Not in the polite response you now give, which is the correct way to decline. What appalls Miss Manners is that you previously encouraged children to believe that the way to earn money is not by doing something useful, but to beg, and you were even willing to hire a child to read.

Miss Manners is well aware that many schools encourage, even require, children to ask outright for money instead of washing cars or making cookies or lemonade to sell, and that many parents bribe their children to learn.

But as you have discovered, this does not make it right. Aside from the rudeness and dishonesty that is engendered, it teaches the child that working and studying lack intrinsic value.

Miss Manners is glad that you have learned better, realize you are not forced to support this, and are doing better by your own child.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My wife insists on wearing her sunglasses when she goes through the aisles at the local major supermarket. I think it's rude to leave your sunglasses on inside a public place for that long. I think it's fine for the local quick trip into the convenience store, but for some reason, it irks me to be with her inside like that pushing a shopping cart around a big store. I think it comes across as arrogant and unapproachable (she isn't), but again, what do I know?

GENTLE READER: Apparently something that Miss Manners does not, which is why your wife needs to seem approachable in the supermarket. Unless she is shoving her cart into others' ankles, her fellow shoppers are likely to be too interested in the produce to notice or care.

What you need to know is that there are many reasons for wearing sunglasses other than their looking spiffy. Your wife may not have eye-related problems, but enough people do to remove the onus from sunglasses, other than mirrored ones worn with black leather to the breakfast table.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am an elderly gentleman, of almost 71 years, who was lucky enough to be taught to read at an early age. As I matured, I developed into a compulsive reader, reading just about anything that bears the printed word. I do so with the general knowledge that if it was written, it was intended to be read.

At a public doing, I encountered a very well developed female at least thirty years my junior. She was wearing an exceptionally low top and displaying all of her natural attributes.

Each of her displayed anatomy parts were amply tattooed with words of the English language. They appeared to be clearly printed, though, being a gentleman, I did not read.

I have no knowledge of what they said. Possibly, they were names of her friends or perhaps instructions of some sort regarding a likely delicate matter.

Since this printing was in a public place, would I have been correct in reading the words, or was I correct in merely trying to look at her forehead?

GENTLE READER: You have given Miss Manners the opportunity to play Portia in "The Merchant of Venice." (You will recall that she was the legal authority who upheld the forfeit of a pound of flesh provided that no blood was taken with it.)

Yes, you are entitled to read publicly displayed signs. But no, you are not entitled to stare at a lady's chest.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a female college student who occasionally attends lunches or dinners with professional individuals that I am not previously acquainted with. Such meals usually require semiformal or business attire and may or may not include assigned seating.

Should I or should I not wait to be seated until a gentleman of the table offers to help me by pushing in my seat? I know that this is an appropriate gesture at formal meals for a gentleman when seated with a lady of his acquaintance, but I do not want to stand awkwardly by a chair until someone offers (assuming someone does) or appear pointedly rude by waiting too long.

On the other hand, I do not wish to seem ignorant of tradition or form a poor first impression, particularly as I may want to eventually form a professional connection with members of the table.

GENTLE READER: As a general rule, the social manners that distinguish between ladies and gentlemen do not apply in the professional context, even when that context comes with food and drink. If deference is shown, it is to rank, and not to gender, and students form the bottom rank.

Miss Manners realizes that certain gender-related actions are habitual with gentlemen, who will, for example, hold doors (or chairs) for their female colleagues. This should be accepted graciously, but it should never seem expected. Emphasize that you are there as a lady, rather than in your professional capacity, and the others will soon be expecting you to play hostess and bring the coffee.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: What's your beef with a cash bar at wedding receptions? Weddings are incredibly expensive, and a couple starting out shouldn't have to go in the hole for thousands of dollars just to throw a reception where Miss Manners and a bunch of other deadbeats can have unlimited liquor. I thought you were a classy broad!

If we should encounter one another at a wedding reception, then your first drink will be on me, and you can hustle the rest yourself! I DARE YOU TO PRINT THIS!

GENTLE READER: Suppose you go first and explain why anyone would want to stage a thousands-of-dollars event for people whom they think of as deadbeats, and why other people would want to attend the wedding of those who thought that of them. This will give Miss Manners a moment to think of a tactful way of saying that she does not care to drink with you.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Unbeknownst to me, someone new to our area, whom I had invited to accompany my husband and me on a day hike in a beautiful natural area, took video with his cell phone of some scenery, and then posted the video to YouTube.

It did not have any footage of me, but it did have a caption, "In the Mountains with the Smiths."

I prefer not to have photos, videos or any other evidence of my private life to appear on other peoples' Facebook pages, on YouTube, or anywhere else without my permission.

I accept that this might happen in a big group activity, such as a family wedding, but I do not want my every weekend trip or potluck with friends recorded for strangers to look at.

What is the most polite way to request that this not be done, and when should I ask? When I issue or accept invitations, or when I see the cell phone or other recording equipment come out? What can I politely do if someone does not wish to accede to my wishes for privacy?

GENTLE READER: Photographic harassment has gotten to be a serious etiquette problem, what with everyone photographing everyone else and posting it for the world to see. But perhaps you will forgive Miss Manners for saying that the one you suffered has got to be the mildest case of it on record.

Your guests did not photograph you. They did not go against your wishes, because you had not stated your wishes, not having known they were taking pictures, which also means that they did not disrupt the hike.

You will now be surprised to hear that Miss Manners has enormous sympathy with your annoyance. Now that the cellular telephone means that nearly everyone carries a camera all the time, and the Internet has become a giant scrapbook for everyone's pictures, visual privacy is becoming a lost concept.

The dangers are not trivial, as more and more people are discovering when their superiors at work (not to mention their parents, children and other attachments) have a clear view of what they looked like partying the night before.

But keeping that possibility in mind may be even worse. The strain of knowing that one is never just among friends, but always before the vast public, subject to the harsh judgment of strangers, is enough to rob even the most blameless life of pleasure.

Nevertheless, general opinion now is that taking pictures is harmless and to be expected. Miss Manners suggests that you -- indeed, all of us who value privacy -- will have to get into the habit of saying, "If you're planning to take pictures, please leave me out."

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