LETTER XXIII.

From the Architect.

STAIRWAYS AND OUTLOOKS.


Dear Fred: Your plans are before me, also your letter; also the
proverbs of Solomon, from which I read, in order to fortify myself for
the work before me, sundry suggestions concerning the duty of faithful
friends,--the undaunted, disagreeable sort who cry aloud and spare
not. It's quite right for you to try to show what you would like,
quite true that you ought to know your own needs and tastes better
than any one else, and though I cannot agree with you, I'm glad you
have a mind of your own; those who have not are of all men most
miserable to deal with, most difficult to suit. Indeed, when a man
feels clearly a lack in his own home-life which nothing but a new
house will supply, he is sure to have some decided notions as to what
that house shall be. But when you assure me in good set terms that
this plan is your beau-ideal, I must ask, also with profound respect,
if you know what you are talking about. Put in your foundation, by all
means, but remember how much easier it is to change a few lines on
paper than to remove a stone wall. It is not a pleasant job to cut a
door into a finished and furnished room, or even to change the hanging
of it. This house, if I understand aright, you intend for a permanent
home. How immeasurably better to spend six months, if need be, in
perfecting the plans, than by and by to be tormented with defects that