From the Architect.

HOSPITALITY AND SUNLIGHT.


DEAR JOHN: Our old friend shall not be neglected. He has only to
present his case and make known his wishes. Meantime, in arranging
your own plans, be generous if you can; not lavish or extravagant in
expenditure, but generous in feeling and expression. Let your doors
and windows be wide, and your roof be high. A wide door is far more
convenient than a narrow one, usually much better in appearance; and
for the windows,--when shall we learn the unspeakable worth of the
bountiful light of heaven? Does Mrs. John complain that the sunlight
will fade her carpets? Let them fade, and know of a truth that all the
colors of all the carpets of all the looms that ever throbbed are not
worth to the civilized mortals who tread the dust-containing fabrics
one single hour of unobstructed sunshine. Is it that our deeds are
evil, that we seem to love darkness rather than light; or is it
through our ignorant exclusion of this glorious gift, "offspring of
heaven first born," that we are left to wander in so many darksome
ways? Be generous, did I say? rather try to be just to yourself.
Practically, the larger opening is scarcely more expensive than the
small one. The work of construction is no greater, and the material
for the door or window costs but little more than the thicker wall of
wood, brick, or stone.

[Illustration: "THE OLD HOUSE AT HOME."]

I remember an old farm-house on the side of one of our rocky New