U R C U X T R Y II O M E 



" No. " 



" Did you ever ec a house built like this before?" 



'' Perhaps not. " 



" What are you trying to do. anyway?" This with still more 

 wrinkled brow. 



"I am trying," said the Architect, slowly and impressively. 

 '' to make a new house look like an old one. " 



Our good Foreman collapsed. 



All the rooms downstairs had heavy beam ceilings and big fire- 

 places for four-foot logs. The plaster was finished rough all over 

 the house, and everywhere the casement windows opened wide. 

 The long, low book-cases and seats having been built in the living- 

 room, we needed only a writing table, a soft cushioned divan before 

 the fire, a few chairs, a chest for the wood, a mossy rug and green 

 linen curtains. We showed our conscientious painter an old piece 

 of faded green velvet which, a hundred years ago. had hung before 

 a shrine of the Virgin. Could he calsomiue the wall that exact 

 shade ? After many struggles he succeeded, and here we hung our 

 favorite Madonna and the singing children of della Uobbia. an 

 Arundel print or two. and some illuminated leaves from old Italian 

 choir books, and, behold, the room was finished. 



Two hot-air furnaces were put in the house and double windows 

 placed on the most exposed corners. With the thermometer at 

 seventeen degrees below zero the place was perfectly comfortable. 

 On cold winter evenings great logs snapped in the fireplaces, and 



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