FARM ARCHITECTURE. 143 



the instinct of the human animal of the nineteenth century 

 in America to shut himself up in a rectangular cell with 

 smooth, straight walls, and white, square, flat ceilings. 



This is the genuine orthodox, conventional, modern mode 

 of building a wooden house. It is evidently an aggregation 

 of small wooden flues, which open into each other like the 

 cells of the catacombs. 



It is further evident, that if, between any two joists, an 

 onion be fried or a cabbage boiled, the ajipetizing odors 

 thence arising will fly through the house as a new scandal 

 flies through a country village. 



If an innocent mouse' should chance to carry a card of 

 matches to her home between the studs, mistake it for a 

 piece of cheese, and, lighting it with her teeth, kindle a fire 

 without calling the fire-engines, who could tell from the 

 smell of fire, and the wreaths of smoke creeping from every 

 crack and crevice all over the house, where the fire began, or 

 where to throw the first pail of water? Of course every 

 pair of studs and rafters is a flue that will draw like a steam- 

 chimney, adding its own substance to the fury of the flames, 

 till the house collapses like a punctured balloon. 



What wonder that the voice of the crying baby, the crash 

 of a falling pitcher, the wrathful voice of the master, and the 

 shrill admonition of the mistress resound from the library, 

 the nursery, or the kitchen in the north-west corner, first 

 floor, to the south-east corner above, and back again? 



The house is actually composed of inflammable wooden 

 chimneys, partly horizontal, partly vertical ; of streets, ave- 

 nues, and alleys for rats, mice, flying squirrels, and cock- 

 roaches ; of speaking-tubes and ear-trumpets ; of unregulated 

 flues and passages for hot air and cold, fresh air and foul. 



Referring to this frail construction, one of the truly wise 

 men of Boston remarked in a recent address before the fire 

 engineers, that, as far as he could judge, "all that the archi- 

 tects do is to put up the most perfect specimen of combusti- 

 ble architecture, in order that the engineers may have the 

 satisfaction of putting out the fires that are sure to occur in 

 them." 



Mr. Atkinson's criticisms are none too severe; for it is 

 indeed a serious question. Still it has two sides ; and here 

 is the other side : — 



