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THE STORY OF WHAT IT WAS AND 
WHAT IT IS—AN ICE-HOUSE NOW A 
SUMMER HOME 
The pond was thrown in with the house all for 
the sum of $1400 
I T is a wonderful thing, in this ma¬ 
terialistic age, to see what imagi¬ 
nation still will do — although, of 
course, imagination has been doing all 
along, and always must do first the 
things that in the end are manifested 
materially. But that's another story! 
It was indeed a soaring flight, how¬ 
ever, which saw possibilities in this 
ugly, queer old structure, and a lively 
faith that dared to venture on the 
long, tortuous road lying between the 
vision and its realization. Still, it was not such a long road, nor 
so tortuous, after all. Which proves that timid apprehension 
dreads more than placid industry and expectation ever notice! 
Least hospitable and promising of beginners for a dwelling- 
place is an ice-house — save that it carries a comforting sugges¬ 
tion when the thermometer is climbing and there is no relief in 
sight. But an ice-house is how “Over There” started, a deserted, 
lonely place, long since aban¬ 
doned, together with its little 
pond, to the frogs and fishes 
and the spiders and the bats. 
And in its winter dreariness 
was it clothed when first the 
eye of its now presiding ge¬ 
nius fell upon it — snowbound 
and locked in ice, half buried 
in protecting walls of earth 
raised about it in earlier days 
to preserve its chilly contents 
inviolate from summer’s 
scorching ardor. Between it 
and its pond the elevators 
used for hoisting in the ice 
lifted their bare, ungracious 
angles; and within the walls 
the great space shivered in the 
To tie the house and pond together a rough per¬ 
gola was built 
wintry blast, with not so much as 
flimsy board to hold back the invasion. 
An ice-house, veritably! 
Nevertheless 'twas bought — it and 
its acre and a half and the pond—all 
for the sum of $1,400, which is not so 
much to pay for brick walls full two 
feet thick extending from four feet 
below ground to probably ten feet 
above at the eaves, and on up another 
twelve feet at the ends to the ridge 
board! No sturdier shell could pos¬ 
sibly have been provided within which to form a dwelling-place. 
The proportions, too, were ideal—thirty by sixty feet, outside 
dimensions. 
In the interval till spring and actual building, the plans were 
developed. Where to begin, what to do, what the ultimate aim 
-—these were the three questions that were considered carefully 
one by one, and answered positively, by the time outdoor weather 
arrived. 
There had to be a floor, and 
its position was determined at 
just above the ground level, 
leaving a space for health’s 
sake fully four feet below — a 
low cellar, but a possible one 
if such storage space were de¬ 
sired. The purpose of the 
floor, however, was not to 
make a cellar, but to help turn 
an ice-house into a man’s 
house and a home. 
Then windows were neces¬ 
sary, and doors — plenty of the 
former to let in air and sun¬ 
light, and enough of the latter 
to give ready access to out¬ 
doors from everywhere. They 
bEDRODI-T 
LlVI N (i- 
R. od i~r 
Half the building's total space is set apart for bed¬ 
rooms and service 
From the timbers of the old ice elevators was made the bridge that spans the end of 
the pond and continues the walk around it , 
M 3 
