of the dazed inspection, we were supposed to move in.

The old Spanish house in Luzon was quite as real to me. It was in that
verdant and shadowy interior that I first saw the tropical heart of a
human habitation. But there was no wired glass; its roof was the sky. I
remember the stars, the palms and the running water. A woman stood there
by the fountain one night--mantilla, dark eyes and falling water. It
was there in the palm-foliage that I plighted my troth to the
_patio_....

And here was its northern replica--sunken area paved with gold-brown
brick, the gurgle of water among the stones. Some one said that you
could see right through from the road to the Lake, through the rear and
front doors. I wanted it so--a house to see through like an honest face.
Some one said that the whole house could be lit by firelight. I wanted
it so.

"When we move in----" one of the children began.

I shivered.... But of one thing I was certain. If the lumberman didn't
move in, we would....

A certain Order came out of it all. A man should build something beside
his house, while he is at it. That something should enable him to build
another (if he ever _had_ to do it again) without raising his voice;
without losing his faith in men; without binding himself to the place or
the structure by any cords that would hurt more than a day or two if
they were cut.... The house is a home. It wasn't the lumberman who moved
in. The rooms are warm with firelight at this moment ... and yet with my
back still turned upon it and the grinding and rending of chaos ended, I
arise to remark with calmness and cheer that I would rent for indefinite
generations rather than build again.

There is the order of the small man--a baneful thing in its way,
sometimes a terrible and tragic thing. The narrow-templed Order which
has destroyed our forests to make places for rows of sugar-beets. Then
there is the order of Commerce which in multiplying and handling
duplicates of manufacture, has found Order an economical necessity. Let
that be confined to its own word, Efficiency.

The true individual rebels against the narrow-templed Order, rushes to
the other extreme; and we observe a laughable phenomenon--the
eccentricities of genius. In truth these eccentricities merely betoken
the chaos of the larger calibre. Order in the case of the genius is a
superb result, because of the broader surfaces brought under cultivation.
"The growth of the human spirit is from s