24 
House & Garden 
CATALOGS—AND OTHER THINGS 
S OME years ago there appeared in House & Garden an article by 
a prominent architect in which he stated that on several occasions 
prospective clients had come to him bearing whole suitcases filled with 
illustrations clipped from magazines which show houses and plans, 
out of the mass of which they had conceived a rather definite idea of 
the sort of house they wished to build. The author went further and 
said that such clients, while some of their ideas might be impractical, 
were the most interesting to work with and the most completely satisfied 
with the finished job. Their own investigations made it possible 
for them to understand their houses through all the stages of their 
creation, and see the whys and wherefores of the architect’s suggestions. 
Now, this is easy enough to understand, and merely bears out a 
principle which we have often cited—that the man or woman who 
plans to build a house should learn beforehand as much as possible 
of what goes into the construction of that house, and where it goes. 
One does not buy a motor car without knowing the “talking points 
of its design and mechanism. One should not build a house in 
ignorance of its architectural details, equipment and finish. 
'T^HE pages of the architectural magazines offer the most obvious 
X source of this pre-building knowledge. The many excellent books 
on the subject are another—and here 
most people are inclined to end their 
search, overlooking the third source, and 
the least expensive of all. This is noth¬ 
ing more or less than the catalogs of the 
building and house equipment trades. 
Do not gasp—I am not thinking of 
the thousand-page mail order volume, 
illustrated with crude sketches printed on 
paper that makes that of the telephone 
directory de luxe by comparison. No, 
the modern catalog of building or dec¬ 
oration or gardening is not like that. It 
is a book, rather than a price-list. In 
place of the old-time line cuts it has 
photographic reproductions, often in 
color where the subject calls for that; 
heavy plate paper; well written text that 
the non-technical reader can understand, 
and a clear, concise presentation of the 
whole subject. Artistic and informative 
—one could search further and find far 
less of valuable help in whatever house 
problem may be under consideration, be 
it of building, decoration or special 
equipment. 
To suggest to prospective house build¬ 
ers that they gather together a library of 
catalogs may be stretching the preroga¬ 
tive of advice, but there is something in 
the idea. It would not be difficult to 
accommodate and classify such a library 
—a filing cabinet with folders for the 
principle subjects, such as Roofing, 
Paints, Wall Materials, Windows, In¬ 
terior Finish, Furniture, Kitchen Equip¬ 
ment, etc., would contain it in readily 
available form. A card file of references 
would hardly be needed; the marked 
folders would take care of that. 
Think what a volume of pertinent facts such a library would contain! 
N OT long ago I visited a house that was under construction. The 
owners are young, tremendously interested, and evolved the whole 
original conception themselves with the aid of a home-made model 
which gave their architect a very clear idea of what they wanted. 
We drove out to the house about sunset, with thermos bottles, cold 
roast chicken, cake and all the other ingredients of a modern al fresco 
supper stowed in a corner of the car. The carpenters and masons had 
long since quit for the day, and the late summer orchestra of katydids 
and crickets was tuning up for its nightly concert among the trees on 
the steeply sloping hillside. 
On the rough planks of the second floor we improvised a table out 
of two boards, a nail keg and a carpenter’s “horse”, and dined in 
comfort while the dusk deepened and the rafter skeleton of the roof 
above us drew away into the gloom. And as we sat they talked, those 
two, of the great ideal that was developing day by day, rising steadily 
out of the formlessness of rock mass and lumber pile, growing, growing 
into the house of their dreams, where the years of city apartment 
dwelling would become things of the past and the man could have a 
photographic dark-room all his own. They had entered a new era, an 
absorbing game with the goal already in sight; and it was good to 
hear them. 
Later, by the light of an electric torch, we explored the house again, 
climbing ladders, peering through doorway openings, balancing along 
exposed floor beams. The porch fireplace, the finish of the outside 
stonework, the trim, the windows—all came in for their share of en¬ 
thusiastic comment and explanation. Every detail was familiar, all the 
pros and cons of the many questions which had arisen they understood. 
Everything was so personal, so vital to them; almost as though they 
were doing the building with their own hands. In the broadest sense 
of the words, the house was theirs. 
I came away from that visit with three outstanding impressions: 
that these two had studied magazines, books and catalogs carefully as 
their plan took form; that it was going to be a splendid little house; 
and that the whole thing was the greatest fun in the world for them. 
And of these three impressions, the one that seemed the most 'worth 
while was the last. 
AND so we come back tc our starting point, to the principle that 
jL \ familiarity with the things of which a house is built and equipped 
is essentia] to the greatest pleasure and understanding and ultimate 
satisfaction. You can truly picture the comfort of that living room, 
or the convenience of that kitchen, or the beauty of those roof lines 
with the changing shadows of the trees upon them only if you know 
the underlying bases which make them what they are to be. You will 
find your architect all the more a friend if you can go to him with a 
broad knowledge of your own. 
After all, the building of a house can be as much a matter of friend¬ 
ship as of business. It means creating one of the most personal, inti¬ 
mate things in the world, something which through the ages has held 
as great importance in men’s lives as the food wherewith they are 
nourished, or the fire which warms their bodies against the winter’s 
cold. And in proportion as it is an undertaking of the heart, so will 
its planning become one of the Great Adventures. R. S. L. 
F OR indeed, what would building a 
first house—or a second, or a third 
—be without the fun of planning? One 
can picture a great merchant watching 
the erection of his new office building, 
coldly calculating the amount of floor 
space in this section or that, leaving the 
details to the architect he has employed, 
asking nothing, interested in nothing but 
the “efficiency” of the completed whole. 
The very magnitude of the work pre¬ 
cludes any feeling of intimacy with the 
details of its planning. What a dull, 
uninspiring, worrying thing it must all 
be for him! 
But let that same merchant build a 
house, and if he is a human, kindly man, 
you will scarcely recognize him. He 
holds long conferences with his architect, 
neglecting his business, suggesting, dis¬ 
cussing, accepting or rejecting. He never 
thinks of it as work or duty or necessity; 
he is planning a thing essentially for his 
family and himself, and his enthusiasm 
for it absorbs him. 
The feeling of ownership, the realiza¬ 
tion that by his own thought and initia¬ 
tive he is creating a place that is more 
than a mere hired protection from the 
wind and rain—these are valued priv¬ 
ileges indeed. They merge naturally into 
the contentment which will come with 
the years of living in that house. They 
are phases of the building game which 
are no less real for that they cannot be 
seen by tire eye or touched by the 
hand. 
