forcibly than the average character of the sites chosen for human
habitations in cities, in villages and in the open country. Or does it
rather indicate the instinctive struggle for supremacy over nature? The
'dear old nurse' is most peaceably inclined toward us, yet we shall
never be satisfied till all the valleys are exalted and the hills laid
low. Not because we object to hills and valleys--quite the contrary;
but we must show our strength and daring. Nobody wants the North Pole,
but we are furious to have a breach made in the wall that surrounds it.
If we discover a mighty primeval forest we straightway grind our axes
to cut it down; an open prairie we plant with trees. When we find
ourselves in an unclean, malarious bog, instead of taking the short cut
out, shaking the mud from our feet and keeping clear of it forever
after, we plunge in deeper still and swear by all the bones of our
ancestors that we will not only walk through it dry-shod, but will
build our homes in the midst of it and keep them clean and sweet and
dry. The good mother beckons to us with her sunshine and whispers
with her fragrant breezes that on the other side of the river or across
the bay the land is high and dry, that just beyond the bluffs are the
sunny slopes where she expected us to build our houses, and, like saucy
children as we are, we say that is the very reason we prefer to go
somewhere else.

[Illustration: WARMTH IS BEAUTY.]

[Illustration: A HIDDEN FOE.]

"Now, if the particular spot of earth on which you expect to set up the
temple of your home is not well adapted to that sacred purpose, think a
bit before you commence digging. If it is low, wet and difficult of
drainage; if the surface water or the drains from adjacent lands have