house require, or its construction will allow.

Let me remind you, under the head of general principles, that there is
no such thing as "suction." Of course, you know it when you stop to
think, but bear it in mind, and wherever the motive-power seems to be
applied on which you rely to lift the column of air, remember that if
raised at all it must be raised from the bottom. Maybe you will
discover room for a moral here.

This summer ventilation is simple enough, and relates rather to
comfort than to health. The great question in building, for New
England and similar climates, is, indeed, how to keep our houses warm,
and, without great expenditure of fuel, have a constant change of air.
As you suggest, we have learned that wood costs eight or ten dollars a
cord instead of the mere labor of cutting and hauling; hence we have
shut the mouths of the old-time fireplaces, mouths that it would cost
a fortune to feed. We find the value of building-timber increasing
every year; so we make thinner walls, lined outside and inside with
paper, and have cold houses, no fresh air, anthracite coal, and
disease. Our grandfathers carried foot-stoves to church, where they
sat and shivered, sometimes with the cold, sometimes at the doctrines.
We have warm air and stale. Let us hope our children will have warmth
and freshness for body and soul. They, in their homes, had big
fireplaces, loose doors, rattling windows, cracks in the walls, and as
they lay in bed looked at the stars through the chinks in the roof, or
felt the snow blow on their cheeks which were ruddy with health and
vigor. We have cylinder stoves, double windows, tight walls plastered
and papered, and pale faces.

[Illustration: GOOD OLD TIMES.]