od floors in my house beautiful. But these floors
will not be polished mirrors nor skating-rinks. They will be just plain
and common hardwood floors. Beautiful carpets are not beautiful to the
mind that knows they are filled with germs and bacilli. They are no more
beautiful than the hectic flush of fever, or the silvery skin of leprosy.
Besides, carpets enslave. A thing that enslaves is a monster, and
monsters are not beautiful.

The fireplaces in my house will be many and large. Small fires and cold
weather mean hermetically-sealed rooms and a jealous cherishing of heated
and filth-laden air. With large fire-places and generous heat, some
windows may be open all the time, and without hardship all the windows
can be opened every little while and the rooms flushed with clean pure
air. I have nearly died in the stagnant, rotten air of other people's
houses--especially in the Eastern states. In Maine I have slept in a
room with storm-windows immovable, and with one small pane five inches by
six, that could be opened. Did I say slept? I panted with my mouth in
the opening and blasphemed till I ruined all my chances of heaven.

For countless thousands of years my ancestors have lived and died and
drawn all their breaths in the open air. It is only recently that we
have begun to live in houses. The change is a hardship, especially on
the lungs. I've got only one pair of lungs, and I haven't the address of
any repair-shop. Wherefore I stick by the open air as much as possible.
For this reason my house will have large verandas, and, near to the
kitchen, there will be a veranda dining-room. Also, there will be a
veranda fireplace, where we can breathe fresh air and be comfortable when
the evenings are touched with frost.

I have a plan for my own bedroom. I spend long hours in bed, reading,
studying, and working. I have tried sleeping in the open, but the lamp
attracts all the creeping, crawling, butting, flying, fluttering things
to the pages of my book, into my ears and blankets, and down the back of
my neck. So my bedroom shall be indoors.

But it will be, not be of, indoors. Three sides of it will be open. The
fourth side will divide it from the rest of the house. The three sides
will be screened against the creeping, fluttering things, but not against
the good fresh air and all the breezes that blow. For protection against
storm, to keep out the driving rain, there will be a sliding glass, so
made