Transcriber’s note:

    This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical
    effects. Italics are delimited with the '_' character as _italic_.
    The illustrations with a caption have been replaced with
    [Illustration: caption].

    The few minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been
    corrected. Please see the transcriber’s note at the end of this
    text for details regarding the handling of any textual issues
    encountered during its preparation.




 Illustration: The late Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman Thompson, Albany, N. Y.




                                IDEALIA

                            _A UTOPIA DREAM
                             OR RESTHAVEN_





                           COPYRIGHTED, 1923
                          J. WALLACE THOMPSON
                             ALBANY, N. Y.




                      ----------------------------
                  COMPOSITION, PRESSWORK, AND BINDING

                                   BY

                   J. B. LYON COMPANY, ALBANY, N. Y.




[Illustration: The Home of the late Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman Thompson.]




                        IDEALIA, A UTOPIA DREAM
                                   or
                               RESTHAVEN


This interesting and beautiful story, within a few lines of its finish,
was written by Miss H. Alfarata Chapman, Stenographer for many years in
charge of the catalogue department, University of the State of New York,
New York State Library.

Miss Chapman and John W. Thompson were married by Rev. J. Hill Johnson,
Rector of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Catskill, N. Y., September 10,
1921.

Miss Helena R. Goines, a life-long friend, was the Maid of Honor.
William A. Chapman, brother of the Bride, was best man. The other two
friends present were Mrs. John Butler, Mother of the Maid of Honor and
Mrs. Clarissa Mims. Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman Thompson was a brilliant
young woman, highly educated, having graduated with honors from the
Albany High School and the Albany Business College, and a gifted and
graceful writer. Her demise while visiting her dearly beloved brother in
Cambridge, Mass., June 9, 1922, was a sad and dreadful shock to her many
friends all over the country. Many of the most intimate friends appealed
to me, her husband, to publish the story of the Utopia Dream, which so
beautifully brings the portrayal of the characters of those within the
Resthaven with characteristic sweetness and grace.

To the many friends who may read this little book should remember _that
it is published by request and dedicated to the memory of my devoted
Wife, one of the best types of American Womanhood_, true to her parents,
friends and relatives.

                                                JOHN W. THOMPSON.




  Harriet Alfarata Chapman, wife of John W. Thompson, died at her
  brother’s home, No. 7 West Street, Cambridge, Mass., June 9,
  1922.

  Remains reached her late residence, No. 436 Orange Street, June
  11th, where the funeral took place at 2:30 o’clock, June 12th.
  Interment—Rural Cemetery, Albany, N. Y.

  Noted educator lauds her as an example of the universally high
  regard in which she was held. Melvil Dewey, one of the State’s
  leading educators and President of the Lake Placid Club, sent
  the following to the bereaved husband:


                                                  “June 22, 1922.

  J. W. THOMPSON:—
        Albany, N. Y.

  DEAR MR. THOMPSON:—

  I have learned with keen regret of your great loss. Your wife
  was one of the best stenographers, most loyal assistants, I
  have ever had. I have said hundreds of times that Harriet
  Chapman was rarely equalled. Pray accept my sincere sympathy in
  your loss and this testimony which I am so glad to bear to a
  woman of unusual ability and character, who always commanded my
  utmost respect and confidence.

                                                   MELVIL DEWEY.”




[Illustration: Education Building, Albany, N. Y., where Mrs. H. Alfarata
Chapman Thompson was stenographer for many years in Catalogue
Department, University of the State of New York.]




                                PREFACE


The writer in sending out this little book asks that its readers will
try to bear in mind that while the whole idea may be more or less ideal,
it is hoped that here and there a thought may be culled which will serve
as a working-basis for one or another of its readers. Often in life we
realize that something within us is “knocking to be let out,” that it
may go forth and be of use unto the world. We frequently need but the
direction pointed to find a path along which we can tread, scattering
here and there a kindly word, giving of ourselves whatever is best and
worthy the giving, in return broadening our own lives, coming in touch
with all natures and feeling the satisfaction that results from “having
tried to do something.” Be the effort ever so small, it yet shows a
desire put in action and we can hope that, given a multitude of these
good actions, the result must surely be more sunshine, more hope, more
inspiration to help others, greater ability to enjoy all that God has
put before us.

The writer could carry out her purpose only by having a setting which is
purely ideal, but from the ideal can often be deduced something real or
practical, and of that we can use and adapt to ourselves and individual
circumstances whatever will fit. In this case, it may be much or it may
be little, but let us hope that it will be something, at least, whatever
its measure may be. Therefore take from these pages that which appeals
to you, then pass on the book to the next that whatever good seeds this
little work may contain will in time fall in fruitful soil.




                        IDEALIA, A UTOPIA DREAM
                                   or
                               RESTHAVEN


             “Reflect that life, like every other blessing,
              Derives its value from its use alone.”

The day was ideal for me, an idler who had left the train at the station
not far from this particular hamlet, more because it looked attractive,
than from actual intention. Strolling leisurely along the shady lanes,
it seemed to me that something more than the usual calm and restful
peace of the country emanated from somewhere. A little farther on I
reached a place where all nature seemed to be rejoicing in her own
glory. Even the fence about the grounds surrounding the very large
dwelling within its boundary looked attractive in its quaint style and
bedecked with the flowering vines which clung lovingly to it. The
grounds were large and well kept. Immense trees spread their branches
and shade in all directions, looking cool and inviting with the
comfortable chairs, hammocks, tables and garden seats beneath, arranged
with seeming carelessness, yet each had apparently been put in the best
place for the general comfort and pleasure of any occupant. Beautiful
flower beds, many with fountains interspersed, made one linger
involuntarily and either drink the crystal water from the numerous
bright cups generously provided, or pass the hand gently through the
water, enjoying its refreshing coolness and bright sparkle in the
sunlight as it dropped from the fingers. What looked like dining-tables
on wheels seemed to be standing in convenient places but movable to
different locations, to allow the pleasure of eating out of doors,
presumably, as long as weather permitted. Truly, the inmates of this
enchanting spot must surely have studied how and where best to enjoy
life. Leisurely walking around I wondered that no one seemed visible
about the place, especially as it was after two o’clock in the afternoon
of a summer’s day. Reaching the house and feeling free to view it on all
sides, as no one appeared to prevent, I proceeded to examine it with the
idea of determining what sort of people lived here. On every side there
were large windows, and piazzas with tables, wicker rockers, sofas and
easy chairs. Here, too, with careful forethought, shading vines in not
too great profusion were trained on the sunny side of the house, making
inviting retreats from the sun, yet with occasional open spaces for any
preferring its full bright rays. Though an uninvited guest, I took the
liberty of picking out a comfortable corner, and feeling somewhat tired
from the long walk thought I would rest for an hour or two, having no
fear of being molested in such a peaceful place. It was then nearly
three.

Surely my intended short nap must have stretched itself into hours, for
on awakening I saw people in every direction, young, old and middle
aged, but seemingly more of them old than young. A glance at my watch
showed that it was almost five o’clock, and since no one had troubled me
on discovering my unlicensed possession of one of the inviting nooks, I
felt free to question these new people.

A gentleman of fine presence, accompanying a pleasant looking lady, came
up to me with friendly greeting.

“My good friends,” said I, “will you kindly tell me what place this is,
who these people are and what they do?”

With a cordial smile the lady answered,

“Certainly. We are one large happy family.”

The gentleman must have seen a sort of derisive smile cross my face (my
inward thought was, one of those new sects that are springing up with
somewhat mushroom-like growth all over the country), for he hastened to
add,

“But not the kind of which you are thinking.” Continuing he said, “About
ten years ago, a lady somewhat elderly, and her husband, also no longer
young, were left alone in the world without children, but with plenty of
money and decided to create a model home. Permit me,” he broke off, “to
introduce myself as Mr. Andrews, their nephew, and this,” turning to his
companion, “is Miss Bates, one of the best and most charming ‘spirits’
here.”

This introduction so frankly given brought out, of course, a revelation
of my own name and residence, and in brief how my fondness for exploring
and investigating had led me hither.

“But you were telling me,” I said, addressing Mr. Andrews after we had
chatted awhile, “how this wonderful place came into existence.”

“So I was,” he answered, smiling a little. “Well, to proceed, these dear
old people conceived the happy idea of building a home and founding a
sort of ideal refuge for young and old, with or without means, who had
no immediate family or friends to look after their welfare. Together
they drew plans for the building, but the difficulty was to find the
right locality. Though no longer young, they were yet strong and able to
travel, so spent many days and weeks searching for a place satisfactory
as to climate both for human beings and for what livestock they might
care to raise, with soil lending itself readily to the cultivation of
various nutritious vegetables and fruits, and with abundant space for
the growth of this ideal colony. Evidently they could have found no
better location than this for the seasons here are never extreme, and
nature seems to have smiled her blessing on the good work so far, since
all our efforts have met with unusual success. Shall I go on?” he
questioned, stopping almost abruptly.

A simultaneous yes from Miss Bates and myself must have indicated a real
interest, and being thus encouraged he proceeded,

“After finding a satisfactory site, they next erected this substantial
building of plain brick, in which the first objects to be attained were
cleanliness, comfort and convenience. They wished it commodiously
arranged with light and airy bedrooms, dining-room, kitchens, and cosy
nooks taking the place of the long and stately drawing-room, these last
being so arranged and connected with each other as to make large
assembly-rooms should occasion demand. A carefully selected library was
also to have suitable quarters, growing with the place.”

By this time my curiosity was so keen that I begged the privilege of
seeing the whole plant with explanations added as my guides took me
through, which request was most readily granted. But before proceeding,
I could not refrain from asking why it was that I had found the place
apparently deserted. In answer to this query Mr. Andrews said, while he
strolled leisurely along,

“As you have perhaps noticed, many, in fact most of the family are
elderly people. In following out the plan we have tried not to forget
that older persons need more sleep, that they are particularly apt to
wish to ‘take a nap’ during the higher degrees of heat, or perhaps in
the afternoon anyway, so for the benefit of all we made the rule of
taking an hour or two of sleep or rest about this time every day. This
rule is, of course, not compulsory except insofar that no one may do
anything that might in any way disturb the peace of those wishing to
enjoy a restful hour. Hence the reason for your thinking you had
discovered a sort of deserted village.”

Time was passing notwithstanding this most interesting conversation, and
it seemed wise that I should be seeking shelter for the night, also
something to satisfy a very natural hunger. Explaining to my new found
acquaintances that I should need to get on and requesting permission to
return the next day so that I might accept their invitation to see the
home in all its details, Miss Bates exclaimed,

“Why go farther? Do you think that we have failed to provide a great
chamber or two for a chance visitor, or that there is not full and
plenty with which to refresh those who merit out entertainment? If you
will accept our hospitality, I am sure you will be most welcome during
your stay in these parts.”

Naturally, I was very glad to accept the invitation as cordially as it
was extended, including as it did an offer to send to the station for my
luggage.

As we talked my attention was attracted to the dainty white tablecloths,
glimpses of which could be seen as they were being spread on the tables
mentioned previously. These had been wheeled to pleasant parts of the
grounds and near to convenient cupboards skilfully concealed by the
trees and garden benches. From these cupboards bright faced young women
were taking plain, neat china, glassware, knives, forks and spoons and
busily arranging the tables for supper. I appreciated the bright mind
which had conceived these conveniences, but was not prepared to see the
food brought in little carts and distributed to the various tables.
There was full and plenty of everything, fresh, wholesome bread, fruit,
summer salads, golden butter, rich milk and delicious cake, everything
looking the more appetizing by being in this,—nature’s own dininghall,
decorated by her gifts in all their glorious beauty.

“That looks most inviting,” I remarked, adding a little mischievously,
“what are you going to do with the occasional tea drinker or coffee
‘fiend’? There seems provision for neither beverage, served either hot
or cold.”

“Those who wish either cold can have all they desire,” Mr. Andrews
answered, “for it is brought with the other food. For the convenience of
those preferring it hot, perhaps the easier way to explain our plan is
to take you to one of those hidden closets.” And we wended our way
thither.

“Here, you see,” he continued, “is a small iron disk to which an
electric wire is attached. Underneath is a good sized asbestos plate for
protection from the heated disk. Turning this little switch, in almost a
twinkling tea or coffee can be served steaming hot. By means of this
little apparatus also, we are able to heat sufficient water for
cleansing the dishes and other articles, which saves carrying back and
forth to the main storeroom everything except the food. It is deemed
economy to keep this in one place that better account may be kept of the
supply and less waste result than would be possible if the food were
distributed in individual iceboxes. The closets, though skilfully built,
are made strong in every way, so that we feel no danger in leaving our
material in them, besides there are some who take turns as watchmen, and
we feel safe in their care. Therefore everything is arranged
conveniently and safely.”

“There is no doubt of that,” I replied, “for you have certainly studied
how to get out of life the most and best, yet without the appearance of
laziness, making the most of nature’s gifts and resources and putting
them into use for the benefit of all.”

“In the language of the poet,” remarked Miss Bates, “we ‘Taste the joy
that springs from labor.’”

Taking our places at one of the tables, (there was no choice for all
looked equally tempting, the members of each group seeming to have
benignity stamped on their faces) my friends introduced me here and
there and the same cordial greeting was apparent in all. Bright,
cheerful conversation made the meal lively, newspaper topics were
discussed with equal zest by young and old, every one, apparently,
seeming abreast of the times. There was no portioning off of all the
young or all the old, but a happy mingling of both. For is it not so in
everything in life? Even as the older branches on the tree are decaying
and falling off, they can feel the new life blood and companionship of
the younger shoots pushing forth to take their places when they shall
have withered and fallen. Only the other day I had given me three red
roses on one stem. One was full blown to the degree of decay. The next
was a little deeper in shade, all its petals uncurled, but ready in a
little while to follow the other. The last was rich in its deep red
beauty, the outer petals open, but the center just unfolding. So it
seemed to me that this happy mingling of all ages was a most beautiful
element in this Utopian scheme.

The supper was one of the most enjoyable of my life, and is to this day
always a pleasant memory. After the meal, all seemed to take a share, so
far as in his or her strength lay, in putting things in order without
confusion, and those exempt for any cause strolled about in the lovely
evening air, or sat and chatted with their neighbors. And the glorious
sunset added beauty to the scene, fitly illustrating these exquisite
lines,—

                 “Touched by a light that hath no name
                   A glory never sung,
                 Aloft on sky and mountain wall
                   Are God’s great pictures hung.”

I wended my way here and there, feeling safe and happy in this haven of
rest, finding all with whom I talked very interesting.

As darkness crept on, the grounds were beautifully illuminated by
myriads of incandescent lights in various colored globes, shedding their
soft radiance upon the scene, making it almost fairylike in its beauty.

Inquiring the hour for retiring, I was informed that no limit was
placed, it being understood that each would use discretion as to proper
hours. They were after all located not very far from various attractions
and churches of different denominations, accessible by conveyances for
the older people and by an electric railway which I later discovered
came within easy reach of their grounds. They told me, however, that
though not meaning to appear selfish, it was found with such a
household, such a variety of people and approved amusements of all
kinds, there was little outside attraction for many of them. Of course
certain supplies had to be obtained and extra produce disposed of, and
for those not caring to make the necessary trip others were always glad
and willing to do their errands.

I was shown for the night to a dear little room. “Dear,” because a large
bedroom with canopied bed, imposing furniture and heavy draperies never
appeals to me so much as a simple, but daintily arranged chamber which
makes one just long to lie right down and go to sleep. This furniture
was white with a little sprig of green vine decorating it, the color
scheme of the room in every particular having been carried out in a way
at once refreshing and attractive.

In the act of drawing the shades at the windows the scene without
claimed my attention. The little hamlet a few miles away lay wrapped in
peaceful slumber. Against the unclouded sky the spires of the churches
were outlined distinctly, while the hundreds of electric lights appeared
like stars of dazzling brilliancy. Down the unseen tracks of the
railroad near by an electric car came speeding on its way. Moved by that
wonderful, invisible power, it seemed to have come and gone, in its
extreme rapidity, almost by magic, reappearing in the far distance like
a will-o’-the-wisp as now and then it was hidden from view by the tall
trees.

My sleep was that of the just as well as the tired, for on bidding my
friends good night I learned that I had walked much farther than it
seemed, having of course taken the longer route.

On awaking the next morning it was raining and though a walk in the rain
is by no means objectionable to me, it was pleasant to think of being
already at headquarters for the day, particularly when so many
interesting things were in store. After arranging my toilet I went out
on the little balcony leading from the room. From there I could enjoy
with renewed appreciation the grounds about the house, being surprised
at their vast extent, none too large, however, in view of the purpose of
the family. Everything looked bright and fresh from the rain as it
gently fell, the fountains jetting up in welcome greeting.

Thinking it must be time for breakfast I reentered the room and started
for the dining-room. Going through the hall I met a charming little
woman, who gave me a bright morning smile and invited me to go with her
to breakfast. She had reached beyond her three score, her hair was as
beautiful as spun silver, and her face bore the lines with which time
stamps the character of our life. Hers was only kindly and she seemed my
rose in its fullest bloom. Lightly putting my arm about her waist
together we wended our way downstairs. She was bright and interesting,
her inquiries being delicate, but to the point. She had seen me the
night before, though it happened that I had not met her. My remark on
the fact that it was raining brought out this answer,

“Yes, but we mind it not. We rejoice that our efforts are helped and
blessed by God’s own hand, for do not the berries grow and ripen from
the rain and sun, our vegetables increase in plenty and our cattle
thrive on the rich grass, and does not it all help us to help each other
in this our cooperative plan to help one another? We are grateful for
the rains, for the sunshine and for our many blessings.”

Somehow I must have had an intuitive feeling that this little lady was
none other than the kind spirited person who had laid the foundation for
this happy home, and fearing not to give offense, I frankly asked if
this were true.

“It is,” she answered. “But since we have gotten so nicely started my
husband has been taken from me.” The gentle eyes grew moist as she
continued, “I feel, however, that he has gone to that happier, brighter
home, and although I miss him in many ways, I look forward to the union
beyond and am making myself content and happy by trying to bring
sunshine into the lives of others who have lost those equally dear. To
me,

                ‘By his life alone,
            Gracious and sweet, the better way was shown.’”

I breathed a prayer of gratitude that the Father above had put it into
the hearts of some, at least, to accept in such spirit their afflictions
and to seek thus to bear them by giving and getting hope and cheer.

By this time we had reached the dining-room and Mr. Andrews seeing us,
drew near. He introduced me to the lady, his aunt, Mrs. Chester, but I
think she and I both felt that a very friendly feeling had already
sprung up between us and, on my part, at least, I hoped it was cemented
by the more formal introduction.

“Well,” remarked Mr. Andrews, “you see the rain will prevent our eating
out of doors this morning, but we trust the meal inside will be equally
enjoyable to you for we are a little proud of both our dining-rooms.”

“I expect to find pleasure in seeing every side of the life here,” I
replied, “and am somewhat glad that it is possible to have the
opportunity to observe it under all conditions.”

Accompanying Mrs. Chester we passed into a large room with numerous
tables and comfortable chairs having rubber tipped legs. On the walls
were pictures, neatly and tastefully framed, of fish, game, fruit and
vegetables in natural tints. Beautiful closets, with glass doors and
drawers beneath, containing all the necessary table accessories, were
arranged at convenient points. There were also other closets with
artistically carved panels, the use of which I had yet to discover.
Nothing, however, looked superfluous, the room being attractive, but
intended for its particular purpose only.

There seemed to be no lingering, for when we sat down the room appeared
to me as if it must contain its entire household. The tables drew my
attention by their peculiar construction. They were round, the center
appearing to be separate from the outer part and to revolve
independently. At regular intervals on the central part there were
convenient small handles by which it could be turned and its contents
reached by those sitting at the outer table. Everything was served ready
to eat, coffee and tea being in patent vessels, into the bottom of which
slipped a hot asbestos plate. The tables averaged about five persons,
each of whom helped himself or was helped by another, the meal
progressing as happily as that of the previous evening. Having no more
choice than when out of doors, there was no seeking of a particular
seat, but all contributed their quota to making the party at every table
a pleasant one.

To have attained such perfect precision seemed to me must have cost the
study of a lifetime yet they told me that even those who had been there
but a short while seemed to fully appreciate the spirit of the home and
to join readily with the rest in their efforts for the best welfare of
all. Regular meal hours were fixed, every one knew them and all came
promptly.

After breakfast, the dishes were washed at convenient porcelain sinks
which were disclosed on opening the other closets. The tables were reset
for the next meal if it were likely to be eaten indoors, or the articles
put away till next needed. Food and refuse were gathered in proper
receptacles, put on the shelves of wheeled trucks and taken to their
respective places. Everything was done not hastily, with the effort of
hurrying to get through, but with the intent and purpose of doing it and
doing it right and cheerfully.

I could not help thinking that it seemed as if some gentle fairy must
have given her patronage here, the results appearing like magical
wonders.

Mr. Andrews joined his aunt and myself as we were leaving the room. In
the course of conversation it came out that he was by profession a
doctor, and practised in the neighboring towns as well as in this
immediate hamlet. Feeling that perhaps on my part it was taking too much
of his time to show me about the place I said as much and he answered,

“Do not fear. In the first place, here in this particular locality I
have little use for my professional knowledge. We seem to have been more
than blessed with good health and spirits, and my ability, in greater or
less degree, as a director for this home comes into better play than in
the administering of my pills or powders.” A happy smile accompanied
this remark as though he felt heartily grateful that it was true.

I asked Mrs. Chester whither she was bound and she said,

“To look after my children, keep busy and out of mischief for a while,
but I shall see you later on. Take good care of her,” she said to Mr.
Andrews as she left us.

“Which would you like to see first,” he questioned. “You have seen some
of [Illustration: The Home of the late Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman
Thompson.] our ideas, but what appeals most strongly to you as next to
be investigated?”

“Everything,” I replied quickly, “and since I can not choose as all is
equally interesting, you had better decide, for

                ‘The atmosphere
            Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers
                Seem full of welcome.’”

“Very well, as you are a woman, I judge that the prettier parts may
appeal to you most strongly and shall show you our conversation corners
and parlorettes.” And he led the way to one of the latter.

It was furnished in such manner as to show careful thought for
adaptability to any season, yet seemed peculiarly suggestive of only
one. There was no upholstered furniture to gather dust, lose shape, be
uncomfortable in warm weather or hygienically unsafe. Pillows and
adjustable seat cushions, however, were in plenty to be used presumably,
in any way, for the comfort of occupants on the attractive couchs,
chairs and rockers of willow. The floor in wood of artistically colored
design had here and there a rug harmonizing in color, but light in
weight. On the walls were a few carefully chosen pictures of summer
scenes and themes suggesting thoughts of that season. A water-nymph,
Pan, Psyche and other choice pieces of bric-a-brac roused my admiration,
as did also the folios of small pictures giving views of cascades,
mountain trails, lakes, forests and picturesque scenery. A cursory look
at the magazines and books showed that they too were suggestive of
nature study, outings and the many opportunities peculiar to the summer
season, to come closer in touch with nature. The whole arrangement of
the room seemed intended to suggest only summer and I asked if this had
been their plan.

“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews in reply to my question, “that was part of the
idea, but it was not intended to suggest such thoughts only, for as I
have already remarked, we know not extremes here. The thought in the
arrangement of each of our principal rooms, as you will discover, was,
in conjunction with this to give a basis for change and rest to the mind
if one were alone, or to serve as an impetus for topics of conversation,
discussions and talks that will be helpful as well as interesting, and
we look for this in all our household so far as possible.”

The idea seemed beautiful theoretically, but I could not help feeling a
little skeptical about it.

From there we entered next what was evidently a music-room, for a fine
piano stood open, choice music and books about music and musicians lay
on the tables, and one or two different instruments gave proof that some
of the people were interested in other lines. Here too, apparently, care
had been taken to inspire to effort by portraits of some of the famous
composers, including the beloved Mendelssohn, Rubenstein, Chopin, Liszt,
and an excellent copy of the favorite picture “Song without words,” also
known as “Mendelssohn and his Sister.” There was no lavish display in
anything, but the whole room bespoke a wish to rouse and keep interested
those with talent in this direction. As we turned to leave, a man, by no
means young, but with purpose reflected on his strong, kind face,
entered and Mr. Andrews introduced him as Mr. Whitehurst. Not wishing to
interrupt him I said,

“We shall not disturb you, for I presume you are another Franz Abt or
perhaps a Pinsuti about to try the melodies floating through your brain,
and then give them forth to the world to enjoy.”

“No,” he answered laughingly, “I am practically but a beginner. Though
having a little latent talent, until I came here the chance had never
been offered to cultivate it. Now I have opportunity to practise and do
what I can after regular duties are finished, and am very happy.” After
chatting a little while we bade him good morning, and left him to pursue
his studies.

Once outside of hearing, I ventured to inquire what the occupation might
be of this particular man, and was told that his work lay chiefly in the
care of the flower and vegetable gardens as he had excellent knowledge
in this direction.

“Mr. Whitehurst came to us,” said Mr. Andrews, “heartsick and
discouraged. He had sought work in his own and other lines without
success, was alone in the world and not in the best of health. We asked
what he could do, also an honest statement of where he had come from
together with information on a few other minor points, then gave him a
chance to do what he could. I am glad to say he has proven fully worthy
of our confidence. He has under him several of our younger men who are
equally interested in the best farming and floriculture. By agreement
and careful arrangement of their work, each has time for his own special
line of amusement, and Mr. Whitehurst has practised diligently.
Fortunately, having in our household one who is quite a skilled musician
we have been able to guide and cheer him on. I think we shall never have
any regret for he has proven most exemplary in every way.”

Again I inwardly asked many blessings on those good people whose purpose
in life was of the highest and noblest. While thinking thus, we had
reached another room which I immediately conjectured had been planned to
represent fall. Here again was unupholstered furniture, but its
framework carried the colors of autumn foliage. Some of the pictures
were of the woods in their rich beauty at the turning of the leaves,
others were of the hunt, the vineyard and merry parties gathering nuts.
The literature also suggested seasonable topics and one could only feel
happy amid such surroundings. I was getting bewildered by the successful
manner in which this novel idea had been carried out and less skeptical,
and had to show my admiration in numerous expressions of praise.

A graceful turn past pretty corners brought us to the library which was
so inviting with its little tables, comfortable chairs and shelves well
filled with the best literature, dictionaries, cyclopedias and other
reference books. Pictures of the “Poets Corner,” of the “Taj Mahal,” of
the “Children of Charles I of England,” of the “Colosseum” were an
inspiration to explore into the history of various countries, while
excellent casts of the “Winged Victory of Samothrace,” “Mercury,” and
the “Three Fates,” busts of Homer, Milton, Joan of Arc, Longfellow and
Whittier seemed to make one involuntarily long to gain knowledge of
mythology, art, famous people, poetry and other interesting subjects.

“Our library is small as yet,” said Mr. Andrews, “but we wish it to grow
with us, to speak in itself of the progress of our life here. Therefore
selections and additions are made with judicious care and we have
allowed ample room for a few years growth at least.”

Leading into the library was a smaller room or alcove arranged with
conveniences for a teacher and pupils, and even as we entered a little
girl was just finishing a morning lesson in arithmetic. A bright face
young woman accompanied her and both looked happy. Our introductions and
conversation revealed the fact that the elder was a Miss Lorimer and had
formerly been governess in a family of wealth, who believed in educating
their children by travel as well as by books. She seemed to have a store
of knowledge made all the richer by coming in close contact and studying
things in fact as well as in fancy.

“My little pupil, Alice, here,” she said, “is particularly happy in
having mastered a very hard problem for her in mathematics. We get on
very well in other subjects, but this seems more difficult. Therefore to
make it perhaps a little plainer and also less tedious than constant
study from books, we are going out now to study arithmetic from nature.
Everything looks refreshed since the rain and the ground absorbs the
moisture so quickly that I think we shall be safe. We are going to add,
subtract, multiply and divide the rows of potatoes in the vegetable
garden and incidentally take a lesson in botany as we study the
blossoms, leaves, roots and general manner in which potatoes grow. We
shall have a happy time, shall we not, Alice?”

“Yes, Miss Lorimer,” the child answered. “I am always happy here. While
I am busy with my hands putting away the dishes and placing the chairs
about the tables in the dining-room, my mind is also full of thoughts
about my lessons and hoping you will have something new in store for me.
And I feel so glad to be useful that it seems to take almost only a
minute to do anything. My! but I’m glad they brought me here.”

The dear little face did indeed look bright and happy as we all said
good morning and they turned away together.

“Truly,” I said to Mr. Andrews, “you have certainly all learned the
pleasure of giving as well as of receiving, for Miss Lorimer looks quite
as pleased as little Alice.”

“Yes,” he answered, “that is so. They who thus give of themselves seem
to be as glad to impart their knowledge as those seeking it are to gain
it. Here, any who lack instruction are helped in all lines by those
having ability to teach. Miss Lorimer from her large experience is very
successful in teaching both young and old, and has a most delightful way
of adopting methods likely to keep all interested and result in real
study.”

“As an aid in such work,” he continued, “we have started here a
miniature museum,” and he led the way across the room to where glass
cases stood containing specimens of birds, insects, minerals and animals
that were common about the place or that had been obtained elsewhere and
contributed. An exceptionally fine botanic collection carefully mounted
was of more than ordinary interest.

“How was it possible,” I asked, “for you to think of everything to thus
complete the family life here?”

“Perhaps it was easier than you think,” Mr. Andrews replied. “Although
my aunt and her husband in establishing this home had certain lines
which they wished to follow, they never failed to get ideas from all and
every one who could contribute anything toward making life within these
walls happy for both young and old. They were fortunate in having among
their friends some men and women with rare minds, a little means, and,
like themselves, without relatives. Therefore, when spoken to regarding
this novel scheme they were only too glad to become members of the
household, to do their share in its labor and contribute their quota for
the good of all.”

“Had this not been so,” I answered, “your wonderful home would have been
an utter impossibility. It takes, first of all, people possessing broad,
liberal spirits, willing to give in every way for the benefit of others,
to make success crown such an effort as this. Knowledge is a very
necessary item, but unaccompanied with generosity of heart, will ever be
like the miser’s gold hidden away,—a principal accruing no interest.
While not in use, neither can circulate for the benefit of the world or
carry out its real purpose.”

To this Mr. Andrews replied, “Your comparison is not only a good one,
but quite true. We try in every way to live for each other and to hoard
up nothing.”

“But here we are to our next parlorette which may possibly be termed
‘winter:’ However, if this means to you only snow covered earth,
ice-locked rivers, people in furs and the jingle of sleigh-bells, you
can look for suggestions for such thoughts in the pictures mainly and
some of the literature. We do not wish our smiles to freeze on the lips,
our hearts to coldly respond to the pleas of others, nor our minds even
temporarily inactive. We would get from winter thoughts of purity when
Mother Earth puts on her ermine mantle; of lightheartedness as the
children skate merrily over frozen waters glistening in the sunlight, or
faces smile out on you as sleighs skim by with their happy occupants; of
a happy home circle gathered about a great open fire as grandfather and
grandmother tell of bygone days when they too were young and enjoyed
roasting nuts or apples before the bright fire, or shook the corn-popper
till every kernel had burst into a toothsome morsel.”

I could easily imagine such happy scenes as Mr. Andrews pictured and
marveled not to find the “winter” room quite as he had described it. The
furniture was of a rich, warm coloring, still carrying out the hygienic
principle, since none of it was upholstered, but, as in the other rooms,
its odd shapes and restful pillows made it equally as inviting as if of
the richest satin. Against the snowy trimmings of the room and the
white-framed pictures it was most effective. The books of travel,
history and other more solid subjects, and magazines containing
biographic sketches and articles on topics of the day, invited real,
earnest reading. But an object of special interest was a rug of quite
good size, in the center of the floor, whose color was pure white. I
knew immediately that it was not fur, since they had told me that there
were no extremes in weather in that locality. Presumably, therefore, a
rug of that material would not find resting-place. On examination it
proved to be nothing but white cord. Mr. Andrews seeing my attention was
drawn to it explained,

“That rug we prize very highly, though so simple in its makeup. It is,
as you see, knit of plain white cord and put on a substantial backing.
One of our eldest ladies, now gone to rest, enjoyed passing some of her
leisure time in this way, with the result that the rug is not only
unique, but quite effective. Though from its fluffiness it looks
somewhat heavy, with the great conveniences in our laundry it is easily
washed and is therefore always white and clean.”

I could almost see the dear hands plying the needle, and the smiles of
pleasure that must have crossed the good woman’s face as she watched the
work grow beneath her nimble fingers till at last it was done and she
could give it, showing in its color the purity of her life, in its work
the activity of mind and heart till the last, and in all, her love for
this happy home on earth.

I liked this room so well I would fain have lingered, but I felt that
Mr. Andrews’s time was precious.

The one next to this proved to be an attractive corner which in itself
was none other than a small art gallery. I recognized copies of a number
of the masterpieces, well chosen, and intended, presumably, to carry out
their mission of creating true admiration and appreciation of the
beautiful. Here too were books about art and artists. Neat portfolios
contained specimens, which were more than fair, of some of the efforts
of members of the household. There were also a few excellent pieces of
statuary. At one side, hidden by light drapery, was an exit to another
room of larger size in which I discovered was a small, but seemingly
very fine pipe organ. Encircled in suitable frames were portraits of
Bach, Haydn and Handel, renowned for their exquisite religious
compositions. There were also enlarged copies of details from Sargent’s
famous Frieze of the Prophets and Abbey’s Quest of the Holy Grail, while
an excellent reproduction of Correggio’s Holy Night with all its
appealing sweetness awoke in me renewed admiration for the picture.

I felt instinctively that the purpose of this room was not only to give
opportunity for practice and pleasure to those whose musical ability lay
in this direction, but also, should any wish, to be used for sacred
service during Sunday hours or at other times. Turning to Mr. Andrews I
asked if my surmise was correct.

“Yes,” he said, “often many of our older members feel unable to take the
long trip to church. Frequently, also, the younger people for some
reason are disinclined to go. Amid such surroundings, however, there is
opportunity for all to express their praise and thanksgiving.”

Our way then led us to another room whose predominant coloring in
delicate greens, exquisite pictures, inviting books and graceful
furniture declared it to be indicative of spring with all her beauty of
leafing trees, budding blossoms, rippling waters released from winter’s
cold embrace and the time when all nature seems to have gained new life,
new strength, new inspiration. I think I liked this best. I could get
from it my conception of what our lives should be. Free from the
repelling cold of winter in our manner, in our thoughts and in our
hearts; free from the feeling of depression, lassitude and inactivity
accompanying hot summer days; free from the involuntary sense of sadness
and cheerlessness that sometimes comes to those who know the changes of
the seasons and in fall see the days glide by, now bright, now gloomy,
the leaves showing forth in all their autumn splendor before they gently
drop and die, and nature seems to have reached perfection only to wither
and decay. But spring carries the blessed thought of resurrection, of a
new life on earth and beyond, of hope and cheer, of inspiration to do
and to be what is best. So of all I proclaimed this my choice.

        “Spring, Spring, beautiful spring
         Laden with glory and light you some;
         With the leaf, the bloom, and the butterfly’s wing,
         Making our earth a fairy home.
         The primroses glitter—the violets peep;
         And zephyr is feasting on flower and bloom.
         Arouse, ye sluggards, what soul shall sleep
         While the lark’s in the sky, and the bee’s on the palm?
         The sweetest song, and the loudest string,
         Should pour a welcome to beautiful Spring.”

The beauty and restful peace of the entire place appealed to me so
strongly that I longed to ask permission to spend at least a part of my
vacation days there. The idea and wish growing stronger I turned to Mr.
Andrews and said,

“Pardon the many questions with which I may possibly trouble you, and
also what may be an unusual request. Do you ever take as boarders or as
temporary members of the household, to do their share of duties here,
strangers who may chance to find this delightful place?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews, “we have had both, though we prefer the latter
for the reason that the visitor has better opportunity to study our
life, perhaps to make suggestions in lines of which we had not thought,
or to take our ideas with him or her, as the case may be, and sow the
good seed in other soil.”

“I fear that I should have little chance to do any such work though I
should certainly try.” I answered. My inward thought was, however, that
perhaps it would be possible for me to remain long enough to get a
thorough understanding of their life, describe it in such manner and
give it to the world in such form that the excellent work might thus be
increased indirectly by my efforts. Aloud, I continued,

“Would you be willing to take me as one or the other for a portion of my
leisure or for all? I could give some compensation and also share in
certain work.”

“I think,” said Mr. Andrews, “that we can arrange it satisfactorily to
both parties and would suggest that you send immediately for anything
further that you may require.”

“Thank you most sincerely,” I replied, “but in the meantime as we have
taken nearly all the morning in getting thus far and as you have
graciously permitted me to remain longer, shall I not excuse you, Mr.
Andrews, for those who have a greater claim on your time? I shall now
feel more or less free to roam at will in the rooms I have already seen
and do not wish to engage too much of the time of you good people.”

“I _am_ a little surprised to find that it is so late,” he answered,
“still one can hardly skim over our model if he would know it in all its
details. There are some patients whom I must see, so I will leave you
for a while.”

As he left me I turned to study more the grouping of the rooms we had
visited. They were on either side an elliptical shaped hallway that
terminated in a graceful entrance to the dining-room which was the full
width of the house at the rear. In the center of the hall was a most
ingeniously constructed fountain which served not only to beautify, but
also as a convenient place for drinking water for that floor. It
represented a miniature lake in which, indeed, sweet waterlilies
appeared to float. They proved to be, however, but fine enamel work in
colors so natural as to tempt one to gather the lilies as they lay
there. From the ewer in the right hand of the exquisitely carved figure
in the center, the water poured forth to the lake beneath, while in the
left hand another beautiful lily was upheld, completely hiding in its
cup a drinking-glass.

I lingered here with admiring gaze. The incandescent lights above had
shades of green and white only, and I longed for evening to come when I
could see the fountain in its full beauty. The potted ferns arranged so
cleverly amid the large pieces of natural rock made the effect very
charming. On the previous evening, being somewhat fatigued and
enthralled by all that I had seen before entering the house, I had given
this delightful spot only a cursory glance and had not realized how
beautiful it was.

Ascending the broad stairway I happened to meet Mrs. Chester and with
her had the pleasure of visiting several of the rooms and their
occupants.

Among the first on whom we called was an elderly gentleman. There he sat
in his easy chair, looking bright and cheerful despite the gray clouds
without. Our introduction revealed the fact that I had known some of the
younger members of his family, but they were all gone, and he, the last,
had come to this haven of rest and peace. Though a little feeble, he was
able to get about, slowly but surely, with the younger people’s help,
and I was happy to see as his companion a young boy who had been sitting
there so quietly that we had hardly noticed him.

“And who may you be,” I asked.

“Well,” he said, “I call myself Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum,’ because we spend
so much time together, but my name is Ned Tompkins.”

“So you are Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum.’ What do you mean by that?” I inquired.

“It is this way,” he said, “when they found and brought me here six
years ago Mr. Lansing saw me and began to take particular interest in
me. Though they were all good his kindness seemed to touch the right
spot and was very welcome to a waif like me, for he seemed like a
grandpa would be to a boy if he had one, and I never knew how nice it
was to have a real grandpa, but used to imagine it lots of times. So
I’ve tried to be all I could to him and have grown to love him dearly,
and we are good comrades. Aren’t we, Mr. Lansing?” he broke off
abruptly.

“That we are, my lad,” Mr. Lansing answered, “and very glad I am to have
you.” Turning to me he continued, “He makes the days go happily by for
me by bringing me the papers and reading (for my eyes don’t see just as
they used), and now and then we play checkers or the other games dear to
such old people as I, and days when I can’t get around so well, he never
forgets me up here.”

“But you don’t tell,” interposed Ned, “all you do for me, how you have
taken the old books down in the library and explained things to me as I
have read, and how we have built bridges, cut out steamboats from paper
and wood, and had the most wonderful trains and locomotives, and how we
have played we were in different stations and telegraphed and
telephoned, and best of all how we made a tiny little elevator and ran
it with electricity by attaching a wire to the current. Why, we have had
the greatest fun you ever saw, and now I am getting so big and strong
that he can trust himself to me and I am very proud and happy.” And he
tried to hide the tears that would come, despite his being ‘big and
strong,’ because, I suppose, they were tears of joy like many of us
have, in that he was able to do something in return for the old
gentleman’s kindness.

“Ned is a good boy,” said Mrs. Chester, “and every day we learn the
wisdom of our decision in taking the lad into our hearts and home.” The
kindly hand on the boy’s shoulder as she spoke these words and gentle
pat as we turned to go I know helped to keep warm his love and affection
for the dear good woman.

“I am very glad to have seen you both,” I said, in parting, “and know
that we shall meet often, for I am going to be here too for a while, and
enjoy this happy home. But good morning to you now, I want to see more
of the people here.”

As we left them I, as usual, immediately plied Mrs. Chester with many
questions.

“The man is no longer young,” I said, “in what way does he contribute to
your home here, for of course, like all the rest, he prefers to do
something.”

“In the first place,” replied Mrs. Chester, “his many fine attributes
and noble character are a lesson to each of us and an incentive to try
to become likewise.

          ‘He wears the marks of many years well spent,
           Of virtue, truth well tried, and wise experience.’

Were there nothing else, it would be enough to have such a grand example
before us day after day to study. Beyond that, as you probably gathered
from what the boy said, Mr. Lansing is a fine scholar and can give of
his store of knowledge much for our benefit. Till his mind shall fail
utterly, we can draw from him in every way, and in any case, we shall
give of the love and kindness that fills our hearts for him. Ned is
indeed very glad that he is growing large, for when Mr. Lansing feels
too weak to attempt the long walk through the halls to meals, or out of
doors, he has a comfortable wheel-chair in which Ned not only rolls him
to the elevator to bring him downstairs, but takes him out in the open
air so that he has opportunity to enjoy with the rest of us all of God’s
precious gifts. He has but to ring his bell for anything wanted or to
share in whatever the hour may have in store, and we gladly serve him or
help him to join us. His prayers in our hours of religious service are
most helpful and beautiful, and not infrequently we hear his voice,
though weak, joining in our songs of praise and hymns of thanksgiving.”

“You can not realize how all this thoughtfulness and unselfish
consideration for older people impresses me, but does Ned never tire of
Mr. Lansing’s company, or is it the old story of opposites having strong
attraction for each other?” I smilingly asked.

“No,” replied Mrs. Chester, “Ned seems never too weary. On the contrary,
soon after his arrival he asked if he could not have a room near to Mr.
Lansing’s, which privilege we granted, and their constant and close
association has developed into a most loving relationship which is a
delight to us all.”

“It is most fortunate,” I answered, “that this is true as it works in so
satisfactorily with your aims and purposes.”

“It is but one more of the many things for which we have to be
thankful,” said Mrs. Chester in a tone of gratitude.

During our conversation we had walked leisurely along the hall, which in
itself was as attractive as every other part of the home. Beautiful
pictures graced the walls and evidently these people did not believe in
confining flowers, books, newspapers or other literature to any
particular spot, for there were numerous plants in unexpected corners,
whose bright bloom and delicate fragrance charmed you to them, and
magazines and papers on tables or in racks tempted one to gather a bit
of knowledge while resting in one of the easy chairs conveniently at
hand.

I glanced in the various chambers as we passed along and saw they were
being rapidly put in order. I wondered what sort of system could make
this part of the work run with almost clocklike precision, but when Mrs.
Chester told me that each who was able took care of her own rooms and
that the rest were looked after by voluntary choice and understanding
between the female constituency, I could quickly realize that with every
convenience at hand and willing, loving hearts, labor in all directions
for every one was as much pleasure as toil.

“As for the men,” said Mrs. Chester in farther explanation, “those who
seem best fitted for certain lines of work are given opportunity to
carry out their tastes and efforts in that direction, varying it during
leisure moments with whatever diversion appeals to them or a different
kind of work, if they choose, which latter they very often do. But how
this plan works you will find out later. Let us stop here and visit for
a while,” she concluded, at the same time knocking at the door of
another chamber.

A sweet voice bade us enter and on opening the door we found the
occupant to be, as I had supposed, a young woman of about twenty. She
was reclining against a bed-rest with comfortable pillows, but something
about her led me to think that she was a little helpless.

“This is Miss Delancey,” said Mrs. Chester in introducing us and I came
close so as to cordially press the fragile hand extended in greeting. We
chatted a while, and then Mrs. Chester said that she would excuse
herself and leave me with Miss Delancey for a little visit. I quite
enjoyed the prospect of seeing something of the character of this young
lady.

“Having found such an abundance of everything here to contribute to the
highest degree of health and happiness,” I said, “I think I hardly
expected to find any one who has not, seemingly, taken the elixir of
life and become proof against age or disease.”

“No,” she answered, smiling a little, “here is one who must ever be
dependent on the kindness of others. Though with assistance I can
sometimes get from the bed to a chair, the spine is affected and there
is little hope of my ever recovering. Ofttimes I have nearly given up,
but with the cheer and comfort of all these kind people I feel that I
have still much for which to be thankful, and so have tried to find my
special corner in life and to fill it as best I can even though a
cripple. God has blessed me with all the senses, and when I realize the
value of these contrasted with the loss of sight, hearing, or the power
of speech, life has become almost dazzling with all that it holds out
for me. You see,” she broke off, “that if nothing else, I am ever
anxious to talk to a willing listener.”

“And,” I added, “you certainly have a most willing one in me. I am only
too glad to hear that you may have to say, and am more than pleased that
you are inclined to talk so freely of yourself.”

“Yes,” she continued, somewhat meditatively, “I have decided that if
there is anything in my enforced invalidism that can be turned into a
joy, I am resolved to make it so. But at first you don’t know how hard
it was not to feel envious, disheartened, cross and fretful, until, as I
have said, I suddenly woke up and found that there was much for my brain
and hands to do if only the heart gave them the right impulse. So the
good people here give me what I ask for, within reason, and I spend my
time thinking, planning and studying to give of whatever in myself is
worth the giving. Fortunately, Mr. Andrews being a doctor, insures for
me the best of care. Also, one of the ladies here has been and is a most
excellent trained nurse and is kindness itself to me. Her generous
consideration of my welfare, and constant help and attention are a boon
and solace to my heart. All women have their vanities and weaknesses you
know,” she jestingly concluded.

“May I ask how you employ the hours to make the time slip by with other
than lagging footsteps?”

“Certainly,” Miss Delancey answered. “Being a woman and an invalid I one
day bethought me of the many who were afflicted likewise, but not so
happily situated, and I immediately tried to think what I could do and
how I could do it to make the days less weary for them as, perhaps, they
too lay in bed, unable to be up and doing. So I have taken from various
magazines and papers attractive pictures and good literature, and from
these the younger unfortunates have made small books, not too heavy,
with carefully arranged pages of different colored muslins. It has been
a pleasure also to select a short piece of poetry and search for a
picture or two to illustrate it. Again, I have taken prose writings and,
having a little ability for sketching, have drawn on white muslin,
pictures which I thought might make the story more readable. I have made
a number of such books for old and young, sending them far and wide, and
many are the letters of thanks I have received and wept over, realizing
from their tone that the writers had little idea that the maker of the
books was herself a cripple. Then too, I can sew fairly well and knit,
so the variation resulting from these occupations, besides reading and
studying for my own benefit, has given me plenty of employment and
sometimes I almost forget that I can’t walk and dance as many of my age
like to do.”

“Would that I could make you a sort of traveling object lesson in the
study of patience and submission,” I said, fearing not to give offense
by this remark, “for it seems to me that there are many persons blessed
with abundance of strength and health who could learn much from you and
make their own lives and the lives of those about them much happier. But
am I not staying too long, and, if you will pardon the question, may I
ask how you get your meals or join in the other activities of the
household?”

“If you only knew how glad I am to have you,” she cordially responded,
“you would not ask if you were staying too long. But in reply to your
other question,” she continued, “it is easy enough. The lady whom I have
mentioned, Mrs. Marvin (and by the way I hope you will meet her and
learn more of her) seems never to forget me, and either comes herself or
sends some one else, if something specially interesting is going on
downstairs, and at meal times it rests with myself as to whether I shall
be taken down or eat up here. Another young lady of almost my own age
has the next room and next to hers is Mrs. Marvin’s chamber. Our rooms
open into a fourth which serves as a little individual sitting-room for
all three and this we have most cosily arranged. We can even have our
own musicales, for the young lady plays the guitar and I the mandolin,
and we have many pleasant hours with ourselves and any others who come
to spend their leisure with us. To hear the laughter and ripple of talk
that emanates from here would hardly lead one to think that such a poor
one as I was among the number.”

As we were thus talking, a pleasant-faced woman entered the room after a
gentle rap, which must have been hers individually, because Miss
Delancey seemed to know who it was immediately.

“I am so glad you came just now, Mrs. Marvin,” she said, “as I was
anxious that I, particularly, should have the pleasure of making you
acquainted with our new friend here, which I do gladly.”

Mrs. Marvin’s gracious manners and genuine cordiality stamped her as the
sort of “spirit” one could never weary of, and I marveled not at Miss
Delancey’s affection for her.

She impressed me as the sort of woman to whom one would feel free to go
for sympathy and advice and who could be relied on. Though she was not
young, you could see in the smile on her lips, the brightness of her
eyes, and the elasticity of her movements that she had taken life
aright,—growing into womanhood with all that maturity of years and
judgment means, yet not failing to remember that we can keep the heart
young and so carry with us, notwithstanding advancing years, the
beautiful attributes of noble womanhood, even as the rose in its full
bloom has yet all the sweet fragrance of the opening bud.

Mrs. Marvin brought us to a realization that time was going and that the
next meal was about ready. Looking out I saw that though there was
hardly any sign of the early morning shower, save a diamond drop here
and there on the leaves and flowers, it was of course unwise to eat out
of doors, and concluded that we should have dinner, also, in the house.
As Miss Delancey had spoken of not always going downstairs, it occurred
to me to exercise my privilege of being a member of the family now, and
suggest that we three dine together. I therefore said,

“If it would be agreeable to both of you, it would be a pleasure to me
to have our meal up here and I shall be only too glad to get it for us
if you will direct me how and where to go. I want to learn everything,
you know,” I concluded with a little laugh.

“That would be very nice,” said Miss Delancey, “for me particularly, and
we shall endeavor to have sunshine within even if good old Sol does feel
like hiding his face a little today.”

After receiving instructions from Mrs. Marvin I set out to perform my
task. She said I need bring only food, as she kept all the necessary
articles for setting the table in a closet in her own room. On reaching
the kitchen I found that it was quite the easiest thing in the world,
apparently, to carry our repast upstairs or anywhere else, for the
matter of that. I was given one of the specially arranged light
wheel-tables,[A] with its various spaces and hollows in which the dishes
sat snugly, without danger of upsetting and their contents being
spilled. I took some of everything prepared for the meal, and as I
worked, could look into the dining-room where the tables were being made
ready. Though all was activity, so thorough was the understanding
between each person that everything seemed to go on as smoothly as if it
were at all times the duty of one individual to do a certain part and
nothing more. I had almost forgotten that my two guests were perhaps
patiently waiting for my return, and hastily rolling the table into the
elevator I was taken up and soon had everything before my friends for
them to make further disposition thereof.

-----

Footnote A:

  In studying the economic gain from using, instead of a dumb-waiter, a
  wheel-table or truck (provided of course one has the use of an
  elevator) it seems to me that the greatest saving is in the matter of
  steps, both in carrying and taking articles to and from a dumb-waiter.
  A wheel-table can be rolled from point to point till everything has
  been placed upon it. Food needing to be served hot has only to be put
  in the dishes that are waiting for it, and the whole process to my
  idea gives better satisfaction than the use of the dumb-waiter, except
  insofar as the latter will always be convenient for economy of time
  under certain circumstances too obvious to describe.

-----

I think that meal was a pleasant one to all three of us. The table so
invitingly arranged by Mrs. Marvin gave zest to our appetites, and the
quiet humor in many of her remarks together with Miss Delancey’s
sparkling conversation, made the time speed by rapidly. I was curious to
find out the former’s thoughts on women’s dressing and to how great a
degree the idea of simplicity was carried out in this establishment.

“Well,” said Mrs. Marvin in answer to my spoken question, “having spent
some years in a hospital, naturally my ideas incline strongly to the
greatest simplicity in dress for various reasons, among the first of
which is freedom of movement, that all the organs and every part of the
body may be able to perform without effort those functions for which
they were intended.”

I looked at her and frankly said, “If such is your belief and you carry
it out, you look neither like a dress reformist, nor yet a fashion-plate
figure. How is it that you are so successful in not attracting attention
as being either, and yet are such a fine example of a blending of both?”

“Very easily,” replied Mrs. Marvin. “By careful study I have discovered
that if our sex will demand certain kinds of materials and sensible
fashions there is no question but that they will get both.”

“First of all,” she continued, “I think you will concede that much of
the weakness, fretfulness, and constant worrying of women comes from the
fact that they suffer, through Fashion’s decree, irritation and
annoyance by wearing many useless things which are neither an addition
to their looks nor conducive to sweet tempers. When we have learned that
high collars cause headaches and affect the eyes, that tight shoes and
gloves prevent proper circulation, that the small wasp waist pushes
vital organs out of their proper positions, that trailing skirts carry
dust and dirt from place to place, even microbes of disease, and
finally, when we have become wiser by discarding all these things, then
we are on the high road to better health and better dispositions, which
in turn bring more contentment and courage to meet the _real_ trials and
vexations of life, and ought not this to result in more happiness for
ourselves and those coming in contact with us?”

“I can not help agreeing with you,” I replied, “for there is nothing but
truth in all you have said. But tell me,” I laughingly said, “how large
your store of patience is to hope for such a complete reform as this.”

“Well,” she replied, in the same light spirit, “if we here in this
household can set first class examples, at least _some_ steps will have
been taken, and after that we can only live in hope. Another thing we
have to learn, I think, is that almost one quarter of the life of woman
is spent in making garments look fresh and beautiful, only to be soiled
and wrinkled in a short while. As for myself, had I not discovered that
such articles were obtainable on the market, I think I should have
studied the manufacture of wearing materials that I might produce goods
for both men and women that would stand all the washing, rubbing, soap
and water that one might choose to give them, but would require none of
the time, patience and strength to press into smoothness which is placed
on the numerous pieces of clothing usually in our wardrobes.”

“Don’t think,” she continued a little banteringly, “that I do not
believe in the utmost cleanliness, or in that daintiness which is
peculiarly feminine, but I have come to know that we can have both, yet
can save three-fourths and more of the energy that is spent by others or
ourselves on pieces of clothing which, specially is stiffly starched,
make one decidedly uncomfortable, or announce the coming of the wearer
by much rustling. I think, however, that everything that is washable
should, as nearly as possible, be made of material that will save the
labor of hours in making perfectly smooth, only to be crumpled into
innumerable wrinkles almost in a moment’s use. Have your laces, have
your ribbons full and plenty, but have everything plain and dainty, easy
to put on and always attractive by its freshness and simplicity.”

“Your scheme would put out of existence part, at least, of a certain
means of livelihood to a number of people. However, since you give them
plenty to do in the way of washing I presume they may hope not to
starve,” I said jestingly.

“I feel quite sure on that point,” said Mrs. Marvin. “Here you will see
how easily we manage it and how much comfort every one takes, and yet I
think you will admit unhesitatingly that we are all satisfactory to
behold and some even more. I should consider that quite a few of our
ladies are very attractive. With unanimous consent to have everything
made as simple in style as possible, labor along the line of laundry
work is considerably reduced. Among our friends here are some who have
made this their business in life, as there are also others who have
perfected themselves in entirely different lines, and with their
knowledge and skill in management, constant study how to improve and
make the work easier, together with the help of others, _that_ part of
our home life has its bright sides also. Extravagant and useless waste
of fresh linen is avoided as much as possible. Therefore it is not
uncommon to find Mrs. Mann, who has direct supervision of the laundry,
ready to join any of us in our hours of discussion or practice of some
new music. She has a most delightful alto voice which is enjoyed not
only by those here, but by our many friends who chance to come in or are
invited to anything special going on.”

“Well,” said I, “you certainly have the happy faculty of making every
side of life interesting, and what a satisfaction it must be.”

We had long since finished eating and had been so engrossed in
conversation that I came very near neglecting my new duties, and
laughingly said I should receive a “black” mark for interrupting their
clocklike precision. I quickly gathered those dishes together which were
to be transported to the kitchen and then assisted in putting the room
in order. Miss Delancey looked as if she had enjoyed the hour and
commenced crocheting on the beautiful soft shawl she was making for one
of the elder ladies, and then Mrs. Marvin went to her own chamber.

Not long after this quiet reigned supreme and I concluded that the
restful hour, so much appreciated by all, had come and almost wished I
could peep about to see the individual inclination of each one. I was a
little curious to know how many there were who took the time for sleep.
This, however, was out of the question, so I contented myself by seeking
a book and a corner in the library, there to think and read.

Much to my surprise, on looking at my watch later, I discovered that I
too must have succumbed to the soothing influence about the home, for it
was quite an hour and a half since I had sought my quiet nook. Through
the open window near by came the sweet perfume of the flowers which
lured me out to enjoy the fragrant air before night again cast its
shadows around us. Having been given permission to investigate
everything, I felt free to wander where I would and so started for the
principal gardens. They covered quite a vast territory and besides
flowers of all kinds, whose beauty and luxury were a joy to behold, I
felt quite a strong admiration for the various vegetables which thrived
and grew so well under the care and watchful eye of Mr. Whitehurst.

It was growing late, however, so it was hardly wise to go very far, and
then it occurred to me that I should find more of the household busy out
here in the morning than at twilight, so concluding to make a visit some
other time I sauntered toward the house. Supper had been prepared and,
as on the evening before, we again had the pleasure of eating out of
doors.

“Well,” said a gentle voice behind me, which I recognized as Mrs.
Chester’s, “where have you been and how have you enjoyed yourself
today?”

“Very delightfully, Mrs. Chester,” I replied. “Every hour has been so
full that they have seemed to fly by and I have been very happy.”

“It is Saturday,” Mrs. Chester said as we seated ourselves at one of the
tables, “and I am glad that you chance to be here. We have very pleasant
times on Saturday evenings and I hope you will enjoy this one. Tonight I
believe there is an unusual list of attractions, if I may put it that
way. You seem so keenly interested in electricity that perhaps you will
enjoy the meeting of the ‘Magnets,’ otherwise known as one branch of the
club studying electricity. The other has taken the name ‘Electrodes.’ Of
course as we have such a large amount of machinery here it is the one
portion of our work that requires constant supervision. Consequently,
there are groups on and off, and for safety and the best possible
management it was necessary in this particular branch to hire an expert
outright. But he, too, has fallen into the spirit which reigns and has
an intelligent corps of able assistants who share with pleasure the
responsibility, as well as the diversion which comes in their hours of
leisure. It goes without saying that this part of our work runs very
smoothly. But to return to the club. It is in two sections as I have
said, which meet on alternate weeks. Both have interesting meetings and
there is a pleasant rivalry between them. They often manage so that
members of each can attend the meeting of the other section and we all
follow their studies and progress with much interest.”

“Though decidedly uninformed on this subject,” said I, “I am yet deeply
interested in it and shall without doubt enjoy spending some time with
them. But tell me, how do you all know what is going on?”

“Very easily,” she replied. “There is placed on the bulletin boards for
the benefit of all of us, programs of the various club meetings with
their dates. If there is an agreement between the musical people to have
something in that line, a statement is posted of that. Or, if a purely
social hour is arranged for dancing or games, notice of that is given so
that each person has a chance to follow his or her own taste.”

“A dance is arranged for tonight,” she continued, “and if you like that
sort of pleasure you can possibly divide up your time so as to share in
that also.”

“I am quite feminine,” I answered, as we arose from the table, “and
enjoy as much as the very youngest the witchery of rhythmic music, a
smooth floor, and a partner whose perfect step makes the whole a most
exquisite delight.”


                                THE END


    NOTE.—The author of this splendid piece of literary work
    calls to the attention of its readers the hope that here
    and there a thought may be culled which will serve as a
    working-basis for one or another of its readers. In this
    case I feel that the careful reader will be benefited
    and this little book may go forth and be of use to the
    world.

                                      Yours very truly,
                                           JNO. W. THOMPSON.


-----




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                          Transcriber’s Note:

        ● The errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have
          been corrected, and are noted here.
        ● Where hyphenation occurs on a line break, the decision to
          retain or remove is based on occurrences elsewhere in the
          text.
        ● One word was spelled inconsistently (dining-room
          diningroom) and has been changed to one format
          (dining-room).
        ● Errors in punctuation and quotes have been silently
          restored.
        ● Illustrations were moved to the start of this e-text.
        ● The footnote was moved to immediately after the
          corresponding paragraph.
        ● The numbers below reference the page and line in the
          original book.


     reference  correction      original text
       15.12    dining-room     bedrooms, diningroom, kitchens,
       26.1     dining-room     diningroom. Going through the hall
       28.8     dining-room     we had reached the diningroom
       28.21    dining-rooms    both our diningrooms.
       36.7     Samothrace      “Winged Victory of Samathrace”
       41.18    dining-room     the tables in the diningroom
       53.26    elliptical      on either side an eliptical
       61.1     Lansing         a room near to Mr. Lansings’s
       67.11    occupations     resulting from these occupapations
       80.5     surprise        Much to my surpise
       83.11    working-basis   serve as a working basis for

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