6 The Country House 



access arises, and if one isolates himself it should be with the understanding 

 of what it involves. If the man of the house is to come up every week, a com- 

 pulsory drive of from thirty to forty miles each trip has its drawbacks, and 

 eventually becomes tiresome. 



Whether the case be that of the suburban or country home, the general 

 condition of the public highways bears strongly on the question of ease of access. 

 The one is to be considered for the entire year; the other offers the best 

 there is in it. 



It is always better to have lived in the chosen locality through the proposed 

 months of occupancy, before building, in order that one may understand the 

 conditions thoroughly and guard against unpleasant surprises. 



One might as well be in the midst of wilds as to be located in a country 

 where the source of supplies is poor. Of course one does not expect the 

 country store to carry all the numerous little pet fancies of a capricious palate, but 

 one does expect a certain amount of staple product, and occasionally a yeast 

 cake that is not more than three days over the five-year limit. If one has chosen 

 well, the finer needs of the table may be supplied from town. It is wise, 

 however, to patronise the local man to some extent, if he is reasonable, in 

 order that he may be encouraged to keep up his stock and that one may be 

 sure at the same time that one will not go hungry. To rely entirely on outside 

 supply is to tempt fate to the extent of an empty stomach and bad temper. 



Fuel, too, is an item of some importance, and though prices are often quite 

 reasonable in the country, yet, if it comes from a distance, the cartage, which may 

 prove heavy, must be reckoned with. 



Too much stress cannot be laid upon the question of privacy; it seems to 

 be seldom considered by the masses at large. The good old continental practice 

 of making a closed-in estate, a little world of one's own, is set at naught by 

 the average builder. The absence of fences and tree screens throws what should 

 be the owner's exclusive domain open to public invasion, and his neighbour's 

 business becomes as important as his own. This is particularly true of the 

 suburban "lot" a poor little beast, bestraddled by a good, healthy house, whose 

 tendency to reach out is nipped by circumstances which compel it to pull in both 

 knees and elbows to escape its neighbours, like a fat alderman confined to space 

 in a political parade. 



Nearness to the highway is another menace to privacy, considering that the 

 average American house faces the street. This is particularly obnoxious in a 

 case where the lot is lower than the street and the casual passer-by can tell 

 what sort of a rug you have on the floor. Naturally, if the house be planned 

 after the English $tyle, with the living room to the rear and facing the small 

 private garden, then there is no objection to the structure setting closer to the 

 street than is ordinarily in good taste; kitchen windows are high, and that part 

 of the house generally takes care of itself. 



The neighbourhood and neighbours look to them well; both may change, 

 even if of the best; this is your risk. As an extra precaution give yourself elbow 

 room; it is convenient at times. 



There are often public nuisances which, in some places, are hard to get 



