our piazza is eight or nine feet wide. I wouldn't have
one less than that. So John took out the chairs, and was properly
presented to the young gentleman.

Half an hour later, when order once more prevailed, I went out to find
Jane finishing a lovely moss basket, and the gentlemen amiably
building air-castles. John had been reading your last letter aloud,
omitting your reply to Jane's question, and was advocating brick in a
most edifying fashion. As I sat down, the young man inquired very
seriously if there would be any difficulty in making additions to a
brick house, in case one wished to begin in a small way. John gave one
of his queer looks, and guessed not; I, for a wonder, kept still; and
Jane blushed brilliantly, remembering that she had already asked the
same question on her friend's account.

I am, truly, anxious about the kitchen and closets, whatever nonsense
my husband may write, but should be sorry to have the house look just
like any other, and, of course, wish to have it look well. Why may not
our stone house be built in the manner of your model brick one, at
least basement and first story, thoroughly warmed and ventilated,
brick partitions, fire-proof, and so on,--that is, if we can afford
it? And that brings me to the question that I intended to ask in the
beginning, Are these suggestions intended to apply to common kind of
buildings or only to those that are usually described as "first
class"? Architectural rules and the principles of good taste are not
thought to concern those who, in building, know no law but
necessity,--with whom the problem is to get the greatest amount of use
for the least possible outlay.

John is industrious and serene, this morning. He thinks my letter
isn't very practical, and hopes you won't forget that the subject in
hand is house-building, not family history.

Yours truly,

MRS. JOHN.

LETTER XVII.

From the Architect.

GOOD TASTE IS NOT A FOE BUT A FRIEND TO ECONOMY.

MRS. JOHN: Dear Madam,--For your wise and tender treatment of John you
have my heartiest thanks and admiration. It is not strictly an
architectural suggestion, but could you not found a sort of
training-school for wives who have not learned to manage their
refractory husbands? I'm sure you would have plenty of pupils.

Your query as to applying these hints I am glad to answer. Instead of
preventing its indulgence, close economy demands the exercise of the
most refined taste. The very hou