will prevent the premature melting of snow from the internal heat. The
only sure salvation for gutters is to take them down and lay them away
in a cool, dry place. Thorough work, ample outlets and abundant room
for an overflow on the outward side will make them reasonably safe. In
general it is better to let the water fall to the ground, as directly
as possible, and let the snow slide where it will, provided there is
nothing below to be injured by an avalanche. A hundred-weight of warm
snow or a five-pound icicle falling ten feet upon a slated roof or a
conservatory skylight is sure to make a lasting impression."

"Isn't this discourse a little out of season?" said Jack. "We don't buy
furs in July nor refrigerators in January. If you expect advice to be
followed, you mustn't offer it too long beforehand. Now, as your plans
haven't yet recovered from their bath, let us see if Jill's air-castles
can be brought down to the region of human possibilities."

"I am not quite ready for that," said Jill. "First, let me show you the
plans my old friend has sent me, and read you her description of them.
Here are the plans and here is the letter:

"'Of all the plans Will has ever made'--her 'Will' is an architect, you
know--'these seem to me most likely to suit you and Jack, although they
are by no means, adapted to conventional, commonplace housekeepers. In
the centre of the first floor the large hall, opening freely to the
outside world, is a sort of common ground, hospitable and cheerful,
where the stranger guest and the old friend meet; where the children
play, where the entire household are free to come and go without
formality. The furniture it contains is for use and comfort. It is
never out of order, because it is subject to no formal rules. At the
left of the hall is the real family home, more secluded and more