Give me something commonplace and practical, something that I can
apply to a "villa" of two rooms if my ship happens to be empty. I
suppose it's all true that an ugly-looking house is a sign of want of
wit rather than want of money, but there are lots of people who
haven't either, precious few that have both. At all events, the man
who has only one thousand dollars to spend is just as anxious to spend
it to the best advantage as he who has five thousand or fifty.

Mrs. John is delighted. She is bent on the new house, but knows I
shall get everything wrong end first from cellar to attic. I always
supposed a good kitchen was a desirable part of a family
establishment, but the chief end of her plans is bay-windows and
folding doors. However, if you tell us to put the front door at the
back side of the house, or do any other absurd thing, it will be all
right.

As to your preachment on general principles, I'll do the best I can
with it; but don't give me too much at once.

Yours,

JOHN.




LETTER III.

From the Architect.