"NEXT DOOR" 73 



when husbands appear upon the scene in restful undress 

 with tobacco-smoke, the spark of cigarette, and the latest 

 news from town. 



There are no unwritten laws about music and practising 

 in Suburbia. Every one plays as loudly and as much as 

 he can or likes. This is a pity, but it is difficult to see 

 how it can be prevented. 



'' Sound loves to revel in a summer night," says the 

 poet ; indeed he would have said so if ever he had 

 sojourned in the suburbs ; but many of the sounds are 

 pleasing. There is the indescribable hum of the distant 

 City, which seems to match the red glow on the sky-line 

 of its countless fires ; there is the chime of clocks, the 

 ringing of church bells, the thrum of the banjo from 

 a holiday group, the trumpet call and drum of the 

 Salvationist. 



But it is not for sentimental or ethical reasons alone 

 that ^^ next door " exercises so great, so extraordinary an 

 influence ; horticultural affairs of the deepest moment 

 are also implicated. Imagine somebody, a yard or so 

 removed from your most cherished border, planting a row 

 of Poplar trees close on to the very boundary fence. 

 Nothing can stop it — the hungry roots may burrow as 

 they choose. They are not liable to the law of trespass ; 

 there is no redress. Or for years you have been enjoying 

 some comfortable nook under the shelter of your next- 

 door neighbour's Elm or Oak tree. One fine morning 

 you get up to find it has disappeared in the night, and 

 with it your cosy corner ; but this you must take in good 

 part. It was your neighbour's tree, not yours. Or upon 

 the next-door frowning house-wall you have (on the sly) 

 been planting Ivy. What a trial to see this carelessly or 

 ruthlessly cut down, or injudiciously lopped ; again you 

 have to suflFer in silence. 



It IS extraordinary how most children idealize " next 

 door," particularly if it so happen that the inhabitants 



