became in a few weeks a new man. In the charms of the
little spot which he could call home, its quiet, its order, his former
talent came back to him, and he found strength, in pure air and pure
water and those purer thoughts of which they are the emblems, to abandon
burning and stupefying stimulants.

The influence of dwelling-houses for good or for evil--their influence
on the brain, the nerves, and, through these, on the heart and life--is
one of those things that cannot be enough pondered by those who build
houses to sell or rent.

Something more generous ought to inspire a man than merely the
percentage which he can get for his money. He who would build houses
should think a little on the subject. He should reflect what houses are
for,--what they may be made to do for human beings. The great majority
of houses in cities are not built by the indwellers themselves,--they
are built _for_ them, by those who invest their money in this way, with
little other thought than the percentage which the investment will
return.

For persons of ample fortune there are, indeed, palatial residences,
with all that wealth can do to render life delightful. But in that class
of houses which must be the lot of the large majority, those which must
be chosen by young men in the beginning of life, when means are
comparatively restricted, there is yet wide room for thought and the
judicious application of money.

In looking over houses to be rented by persons of moderate means, one
cannot help longing to build,--one sees so many ways in which the same
sum which built an inconvenient and unpleasant house might have been
made to build a delightful one.

* * * * *

"That's so!" said Bob, with emphasis. "Don't you remember, Marianne, how
many dismal, commonplace, shabby houses we trailed through?"

"Yes," said Marianne. "You remember those houses with such little
squeezed rooms and that flourishing staircase, with the colored-glass
china-closet window and no butler's sink?"

"Yes," said Bob; "and those astonishing, abominable stone abortions that
adorned the door-steps. People do lay out a deal of money to make houses
look ugly, it must be confessed."

"One would willingly," said Marianne, "dispense with frightful stone
ornaments in front, and with heavy mouldings inside, which are of no
possible use or beauty, and with showy plaster cornices and
centre-pieces in the parlor-ceilings, and even with marble