l the time. Well, they did it and they hadn't been settled more'n a
month when they began quarrelin'. Cap'n Noah's wife wanted the house
painted yellow and Mrs. Cap'n Elkanah, she wanted it green. They
started the fuss and it ended by one-half bein' yellow and t'other half
green--such an outrage you never saw--and a big fence down the middle
of the front yard, and the two families not speakin', and law-suits and
land knows what all. They wouldn't even go to the same church nor be
buried in the same graveyard. No sir-ee! no two-family house for us if
I can help it. We've got troubles enough inside the family without
fightin' the neighbors."

"But think of the beautiful names," I observed. "Those names ought to
appeal to your poetic soul, Hephzy. We haven't seen a villa yet, no
matter how dingy, or small, that wasn't christened 'Rosemary Terrace'
or 'Sunnylawn' or something. That last one--the shack with the broken
windows--was labeled 'Broadview' and it faced an alley ending at a brick
stable."

"I know it," she said. "If they'd called it 'Narrowview' or 'Cow
Prospect' 'twould have been more fittin', I should say. But I think
givin' names to homes is sort of pretty, just the same. We might call
our house at home 'Writer's Rest.' A writer lives in it, you know."

"And he has rested more than he has written of late," I observed.
"'Quahaug Stew' or 'The Tureen' would be better, I should say."

When we expressed disapproval of the semi-detached villas our real
estate brokers flew to the other extremity and proceeded to show
us "estates." These estates comprised acres of ground, mansions,
game-keepers' and lodge-keepers' houses, and goodness knows what. Some,
so the brokers were particular to inform us, were celebrated for their
"shooting."

The villas were not good enough; the estates were altogether too good.
We inspected but one and then declined to see more.

"Shootin'!" sniffed Hephzy. "I should feel like shootin' myself every
time I paid the rent. I'd HAVE to do it the second time. 'Twould be a
quicker end than starvin', 'and the first month would bring us to that."

We found one pleasant cottage in a suburb bearing the euphonious name of
"Leatherhead"--that is, the village was named "Leatherhead"; the cottage
was "Ash Clump." I teased Hephzy by referring to it as "Ash Dump," but
it really was a pretty, roomy house, with gardens and flowers. For the
matter of that, every cottage we visited, even the smallest, was