WHAT WE DID FIRST 



many years ! The Constant Improver had always imagined a home 

 on an eminence overlooking wide expanses, but here even the emi- 

 nence had to be made: so where ultimately this big house was to 

 stand, a hole one hundred and twenty feet long by twenty-five wide 

 and seven feet deep was emptied of its contents, and lo! the founda- 

 tion of the house was ready. 



A wagon load of dirt dropped upon an acre of land looks like a 

 teaspoonful, and it took fully fifty thousand loads of various kinds 

 of soil to do the grading necessary to bring the terrace of the house 

 fifteen feet above the level of the lake, Fortunately, with this lofty 

 height the Constant Improver professed himself entirely satisfied. 



Always, when much grading is to be done the trees must be 

 sacrificed. A rag of cheese-cloth was tied around each one marked 

 for destruction, and we debated its fate, tree by tree. It was like 

 cutting off the little dog's tail an inch at a time so as not to hurt him. 

 Of course we could have ordered everything done without personal 

 supervision. Probably The Man of Many Maps would have pre- 

 ferred this way. Perhaps he hoped we might ultimately grow 

 callous, broad-minded, he called it, or perhaps become reason- 

 able and able to understand the whys and wherefores, to foresee 

 the result, the completion of the whole; but I confess it seemed 

 brutal to cut those trees down. 



" Cannot this one be spared ? " I pleaded. " Look at it, think 

 of the years that it has taken to make so splendid a tower; think of 



the years it will take to replace it. " 



21 



