November, 1916 
21 
as much as the one-time attic of my grand¬ 
mother. All those oddments which had 
fitted into no other place in our menage 
found lodging in the locker. It would re¬ 
quire a long, rainy New England spring to 
clean it. I hope you see the inference ? For 
that’s a species of weather we don't often 
have out here in California. 
It was at this stage that one of us stipu¬ 
lated for a balcony outside the only real 
bedroom. She did not care, she said, for a 
sleeping porch—they were always dusty; 
but night and day she carried a vision of 
certain flower-draped balconies which over¬ 
hang the Italian lakes. It must be a high 
balcony, with a wide, red brick coping hold¬ 
ing tubs of ferns and flowers which were 
to be an effectual green barrier between her 
and the outside world. And as she is a very 
dear person, caring less for this than for 
the other worldliness, we agreed to the 
balcony which is the most attractive detail 
of the little house. She says that at night, 
when she lies for long hours without sleep, 
the stars shine softly down between sil¬ 
houettes of trees, and through the delicate 
traceries of ferns. And I am sure that if 
anything shone on her at all, it would shine 
“softly” and beneficently. 
Our sleeping arrangements, closets, hall, 
etc., being secured, there remained only the 
living-room and the kitchen to consider. If 
one thinks of the world as of two great divi¬ 
sions divided in opposite camps—those who 
know what to eat and how to serve it, and 
those wdio know what to read and how to 
read it—we did not belong in the former 
camp. We liked good food, but for no 
dining-room in the world would we sacri¬ 
fice our books. And in most building oper¬ 
ations something must be sacrificed. There 
is always at some stage of the proceedings 
a moment when one fails between the Scylla 
of what one wants and the Charybdis of 
what one can have. Our architect from 
the first had been keen for a living-room and 
dining-room together. “Better one com¬ 
fortable room than two tucked up small 
ones!” As the comfortable room was about 
24' x 14', conceive wdiat would have been 
the tuckiness of the two small ones! We 
agreed with the man at once. But in that 
living-library-dining-room of ours two 
separate and distinct points of interest 
should unfold and develop. 
Around the fireplace end would go 
(Continued on page 70) 
In the Book of Wisdom it is 
written, “Let a man breakfast 
alone." The comfortable chair 
costs $19.50; the generous cof¬ 
fee cup with china set, $3.50; 
plated coffee pot and lamp, 
$4.95; hot water jug, $4.25; 
cream, $2.95; sugar, $3.95; 
cigarette box in silver with 
black enamel stripes, $4.50 
The woman with a career has 
no time to breakfast in bed. 
She can have a convenient 
little tip table for $15; a com¬ 
fortable painted chair, $40; a 
set of English breakfast china, 
$14; marmalade jar, $1.50; o 
clock in green and gold leather 
case, $12, and a convenient 
sewing stand for $27 
The MAXIMUM 
of LUXURY- 
BREAKFAST 
ALONE 
During the Victorian Era the family 
was subjected to the solemn high 
breakfast. Now the breakfast tray 
has come to the rescue, giving one 
privacy, keeping peace in the family, 
and starting the day right. If you 
arc interested in starting the day 
right, write to HOUSE & GARDEN, 
440 Fourth Ave., New York City, 
for the names of shops or for pur¬ 
chase through our Shopping Service. 
For the young master of the 
home comes a white enameled 
table, $2.85; a wicker chair 
upholstered in pink chintz, 
$7; bread and butter set with 
a rooster crowing “ Wake TJp!" 
$2; plated rooster egg cup, $3; 
and the clown which is the 
nursery pin cushion, $2.25 
The woman of leisure takes 
her breakfast in bed from a 
white enamel tray with a gold 
border. Tray, $2.75; filet and 
embroidered cloth, $10; nap¬ 
kin to match, $32 a dozen; 
white and gold china set, $26; 
marmalade jar and spoon, $12; 
and blue enameled bell, $16 
