about building houses But don't interrupt me. The baby may
wake up at any minute and then Jim will be helpless. The truth is he is
dissatisfied with our home."

"Jim, dissatisfied; impossible!"

"Yes, he thinks it's too small."

"He wants more servants, I suppose; several additional children, a lot
more poor relations, and all the various items that go to make up a
well-ordered household."

"No, no; it is the house that is too small."

"Excuse me, you said the home. The house is a very different affair."

"You remember," Bessie continued, "that when it was built ten years ago
Jim thought it was not large enough. Now he is determined to sell it
and build a new one. There are five good rooms besides the closets, and
as there is nobody but Jim and me and the four children and one
servant, we have all the room we need. We have always been perfectly
comfortable, and I can't bear the thought of selling our home."

Here Bessie began to show symptoms of dissolution, but swallowing her
emotion she continued, "If we could build on a room or two as we need
them I wouldn't mind it. But if you advise us to sell this house for
the sake of having another, I'll"--

"We shan't advise any such thing," said Jack, "but it's perfectly
natural for Jim to think you ought to have a larger, more modern
house."

"But I don't want a more modern house," Bessie protested, "if there is
any created thing that I despise it is a 'modern' house, made up of bay
windows and crooked turrets, and shingled balconies, and peaked roofs,
and grotesque little fandangoes of wood and copper and terra cotta,
that have no more dignity or repose, or beauty or homelike appearance,
than a crazy quilt or a Chinese puzzle. They are simply outrageous,
abominable. I would sooner have the children brought up in a reform
school or a house of correction."

"How would you like a colonial house?"

Bessie's indignation had spent itself, and she resumed her ordinary,
but sometimes misleading manner.

"Isn't it a pity we were not all born a hundred years ago, then we
might have had colonial houses. But why should I want to live in an
uncomfortable old curiosity shop when I like my house just as it is?
Our trouble is that Jim wants the house twice as large as it is now and
I want only one more room."

"Bessie," said Jack, in his most fatherly manner, "I am surprised that
two sensible people like you and Jim should fall into such a
distressing controversy over nothi