20 
HOUSE & GARDEN 
A 
TINY FAS 
Although 
House, 
CINATING HOUSE BUILT FOR 
It Contains Only Ihree Rooms It Is a Sure-Enough 
Good to Live In and Good to Look At 
TWO 
MAUD M. KECK 
It is neither a bungalow, a shack, a seaside cottage nor a mountain camp, hut 
a house built of tile and stucco and adorned with brick trim, inhere two more 
or less conventional people live permanently 
A NY house, whether 
it have three 
rooms or twenty, is a 
fascinating study. It is 
as full of possibilities as 
the owner himself, and 
like him its character is 
sometimes fully devel¬ 
oped, sometimes not. 
But even an old, a stuffy 
house, one that has been 
as long “for let” as a 
man's conscience, may 
be improved ! H e r e a 
window may be thrown 
out to admit light or to 
include a view, there a 
wing may be added and 
a dull dwelling trans¬ 
formed into one full of 
delightful surprises. 
The most fascinating 
house I ever knew had 
originally but four 
rooms, to which every 
five or six years a new 
wing was added, the net 
result being a long, 
rambling, bow-windowed structure, which 
one never left without regret, and to which 
friends came homing as to a dovecote. 
A Sure-Enough House 
When we talked of building a three-room 
house we explained at the outset that it 
would be neither a bungalow, a shack, a 
seaside cottage nor a mountain camp. It 
was to be a house, smaller than some, to be 
sure, but built of solid plaster for the per¬ 
manent occupancy of two more or less con¬ 
ventionalized people. Impossible? Not at 
all. If a three-room apartment, then a 
three-room house; and why not unite the 
convenience, the compactness, the easy 
housekeeping of the one, with the greater 
freedom and privacy of the other? It 
would not do for all families, of course, 
but for ours, variously occupied by day, it 
would do excellently. Shacks, imperma¬ 
nent houses, camps, improvised dwellings 
—we had seen many of these, but never in 
fairly urban surroundings had we seen a 
real house of three rooms built out of plas¬ 
ter and brick. Very well, then, we would 
essay the unknown, we would pioneer, we 
would build a three-room house! 
Like many undertakings begun with a 
light heart, right at the beginning we struck 
a snag. For we must have two bedrooms. 
“Impossible!" the architect threw up his 
hands. “Do you want a 
four-room hous e?” he 
demanded. No, we 
didn’t. We wanted a 
three - room house. 
Though he had conde¬ 
scended to our little 
house only because he 
liked us, fresh inspira¬ 
tion seized him. We 
were to have a fireplace, 
of course, and by the 
fireplace he might build 
in a high back settle 
which should be, by 
night, a bed. He might 
—more than that, he 
did ! Excellent man, the 
architect; I grew to love 
him. A high back set¬ 
tle which should be “by 
night a bed.” Think of 
it! Have you ever slept 
in one of those four 
posters they have in 
Virginia and watched 
the flames write ara¬ 
besques on the black 
wall and do Sindbad the Sailor acts on the 
blacker ceiling? That’s what I meant to 
do when I slept in the settle “by night a 
bed.” Blessings on the architect! 
Solving the Closet Problem 
Our house seemed to be coming on. We 
had one bedroom and a half and a small 
hall. “There’s no privacy without a hall,” 
confided our architect, “and why can’t I 
use the space made by the disappearing bed 
for shelves and a locker?” He could. It 
began to seem, our house, like one of those 
moving pictures in which a few vague lines 
suddenly end in a highly detailed scene. 
Presto! and we had a locker which holds 
There is one big room—“the comfortable room”—measuring 24' 
x 14', one end of which is the dining corner always kept as such 
At the other end, grouped around the fireplace, is the living corner. 
Here the bottom of the settle pulls up and forms “by night a bed ” 
