The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1875-04-15
The. Sacrifieial Parl0r.

ht- Il dI IOls
WE call it thus, Willingly. because it
is the high altar upon which We offer to
the gods of custom and tradition all that
is best and choicest of our earthly pos
sessions-including comfort and conven-
fence. We generally choose for it the
largest, highest, ARREST, sunniest room our
abode contains. We buy for it the best
carpet we can afford, the handsomest
furniture, the incest draperies. We
hang IN II our few really good pictures;
lock M In glass-fronted case our most
elegantly bound books: arrange our pet
bits OF bric-a-brac in a carefully careless
manner; leave stiff bouquet, now and
again, IN vase on the center table. And
then, do we go there, and enjoy it ALL
after the days occupations are complete,
and the scattered family can meet on
common ground;
Not a bit of it. We pull down the
shades, or drop the heavy curtains till
there is just light enough TO stumble over
the furniture in, and then depart, leav-
ing the door ajar with what we try to be
lieye is an attractlvely easy air. Now,
of what possible use is the apartment TO
US? Wehave done the best We can to
make 1t pretty and pleasant. We have
used our taste and Judgment, and very
probably more money than We ought to
have spared from the rest of the house.
to render this room the most beauteous
under the roof. Yet, when it is at last
finished to our mind, we avoid it like
pitfall. 1t isn't because we have
done the thing entirely for show.
We invade its sacred precincts to
receive calls Chen we pull up
one shade after the caller comes and
lower 1t the moment he or she is gomez;
we entertain formal visitors there-not
TO mention evening companies. But
whatever the occasion we and it partake
OF the stiffness of unfamiliaIity. Our
foot Is not on our native heath, though
we may have been for years owner of the
brilliant (carpet) flowers we tread upon.
We are not at home in our own house,
aud We are heartily glad to escape from
the walls Of our own parlor.
We 60 there on Sundays and holidays,
sitting in unwelcome state on springs
that have never grown easy with use !;
but we are always privately cheered
when beq-time relieves us # the neces-
sity of patronizing our own best furni-
ture. We occupy our parlor from sense
OF duty to society, and net because we
really like or enjoy it. And when we do
L
boys" won't visit il if they can help it.
They always stick to the pleasantest,
cheerfulest, contest place in the house
The place where the family lace is the
place for them. 1t may be the library,
the dining-room or mothers room !"
but wherever it is there will "the boys"
stay; and it may generally be believed
that where "tne boys"-unless they are
boors-won't go must be a very uncom-
Portable place. "The girls" being more
conventional by birth and training, &C
cept the parlor and it's depressing atmos-
phere as matters of social necessity; be-
sides If there be any compensation in it,
it is much more vital to them than to
the buyS."
OF course there must be something
wrong about all this, and the causes
would seem to be these: Custom and
tradition have imposed upon us the no.
ton, first, that the best of al we have
should be reserved for company"-to
be enjoyed by ourselves only incidentally
through them; second, that we should
have at least one apartment in our houses
too good for daily occupancy.
From the days when the best room"
that apotheosis of all refined discom-
fort-used to be Theoretically sealed to
common wants TO the present, when we
are less rigid IN arrangement, but none
the less scrupuious in treatment, the par
Tor, in the majority of American homes,
has ever beea the corner where nobody
has wanted to stay. 1t contains the
choicest that our house affords, except
the living home presence which pervades
every other square inch, but refuses to
enter here. We have literally made it
too good for ourselves; therefore, too
good for our friends; for what is too
good for ourselves ought, of necessity,
to be too good for our associates. We
feel that we cannot afford to subject our
fine furniture TO everyday wear and tear.
We know that it would be difficult 10 re-
place the rich carpet for years. We ex-
press contempt for Mrs. Jones, who
frankly declares she cannot afford to let
the light fade her Administer or Mo-
quette; and laugh at Mrs. Brown, who
Keeps her chairs and lounges dressed in
linen busters, rs if they were always
about TO start on some penitential pill
grimape. But VIC are, nevertheless, very
careful that our parlor hangings are
shielded from that most guiltless of enc
mics, the sun. We take no satisfaction
in our parlor because we have adapted
il only 20 our occasional, not to our con-
slant, demands.
The parlor should be the rallying
point in daily family life. 1t should be
the room from WHICH we separate to our
regular occupations in the morning, and
in which we gather again in the evening
with our favorite books, our bits of
fancy work, our fireside games. 1t should
be furnished in the finest, the most ele-
CANT way that is within-truly within
our means, because here, and here alone,
probably, can we enjoy with those near
est and dearest the aesthetic part of
domestic routine. 1t may be given over,
in measure, to ornament, because it is
net, like the nursery, a romping ground
for the children; or, like the kitchen, the
sewingroom, the school-room or the
oftice-the place for toll. But, above and
beyond all, it should be the room in
which centers the soul and throbs the
heart Of home life.-ScribHer's Monthly.