ck laid in cement
mortar; cellular above the footing, as brick walls should usually be
made. Between this and stone it will be then a question of economy to
be determined by local circumstances.

The details and accessories of cellars, their floors, ventilation, and
various conveniences, belong to the interior equipments. There is,
however, one point that even precedes the foundation,--the altitude.
As the question commonly runs, "How high shall the top of the
underpinning be?" Of course this can only be given on an actual site.
It is unfortunate to plant a house so low in the ground that its
cellar forms a sort of cesspool for the surrounding basin; most absurd
to set it up on a stilted underpinning until it looks like a Western
gatepost, lifted every year a few inches out of the ground by the
frost, till it finally topples over and has to be set anew. Two things
you will notice in locating your house,--as soon as the walls and roof
are raised, the distance to the street in front will seem to be
diminished, and the ground on which the building stands will appear
lower than before, lower than you expected or desired. There is so
much said and sung about houses being set too low, that it is quite
common to find them pushed out of the ground, cellar and all, as
though this would atone for a want of elevation in the land itself.
There is little danger that you will place your house too high, great
danger that you will not raise the earth around it high enough. Be
sure that after grading there shall be an ample slope away from the
walls; but whether you will have a "high stoop," or pass from the
dooryard walk to the porch and thence to the front hall by a single
step, will depend upon the character of the house and its
surroundings. To express a generous hospitality the main entrance
should be so convenient and inviting that it seems easier to enter
than to pass the door. This effect, especially in large rambling
houses, is most easily obtained by keeping the first floor near the
ground. That hospitality and good cheer will always be found beneath
your roof is my earnest wish.

LETTER VI.

From John.

GRAVEL-BANKS AND QUAGMIRES.

MY DEAR ARCHITECT: I'm all right on the gravel question. You don't
catch me building in anybody's quagmire. There's plenty of rheumatism
and fever 'n' ague lying around loose without digging for 'em, and
then building a house over the hole to keep 'em in. I don't want to
say anythin