Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-05-22
An Ideal House.

| have dream. The snow whirls and
scurres without the trees sway and groan
in the wind the sky and land are darken.
ing as the shadows of night come apace-so
let us enter. All, here is compensation |
There is blaze, there is warmth, there is
light, there is an overnowing of strange
beauty. The walls you quickly see, are not
Of chilling plaster, that peels and chips off,
nor of paint that is always hard and artisti-
cally unmanageable, nor of paper that stains
so readily and which ever obtrudes its sense
less patterns. They are wainscotted TO the
cornice with wood crossed by dado rail and
omamented with few incised carvings
The wood is shellacked or stained of a red
dish tint, which catches and reflects the
light from candles or fire-blaze with rich
effect A vast chimney, which is a fine
piece of architectural projection, has an open
fireplace, in which logs are blazing The
mantel is heavy, and holds spreading can
delabra and vase or two. Even little
bric-d-brdc enters my country-house-bu very
little, be certain. Upon the walls hang sew
eral pictures of superb color-rich still-life
subjects that glow in deep tones, and catch
radiant lights from the blaze on the hearth.
Still-life subjects are chosen, because this
room with its dark walls might be sombre
were there not marked foci of color. But it
is not sombre. The floor, as / see it, is warm
with central carpet of rich dyes. There
are large tables, massive and commodious
chairs, many books; books are, indeed, abund-
ant; they lie OH the tables and fill low shelves
that skirt two sides of the room. Warm
colored stuffs hang over the windows to ex-
clude intruding draughts of air, and doors
open into an adjoining room similarly fur
nished, save that hospitable sideboard looks
festive with china and glass. Mark what it
is that | see in my vision-a room of space,
color, light and tone; a room where there is
neither emptiness nor profusion, neither gilt
ter nor dreariness; where there are breadth
and substance, charm for the eye, restfulness
for the soul, animation for the spirit. And
after all, what is any picture unless human
life comes in to grace it | see in my dream
fair girls on summer days sitting in the
framework of my vine-trelised windows; |
watch in my winter vision young women in
soft, graceful drapery moving resplendent in
the glow of the freight; | hear merry voices
and see bright faces, and catch the CLEAN of
tender eyes; and over all broods the spirit
of harmony aud peace. This is my ideal.
Art is there, but it is handmade, not a
tyrannical fashion. There are correctness
without severity, simplicity without bald
ness, decoration without fussiness, beauty
without frivolity, and every place is for oc-
cupancy, and everything for use. We eat
under similar pleasant conditions; our cham
bers have warm hangings, cheerful blaze on
their hearths, good pictures on their walls.
My handsome boys and fair girls give felicity
to this house, and they borrow from it their
profoundeat peace. Let each man put into
his dream the house that he loves-I have
given you, with off-hand touches the ideal
of mine.--Appleion's Journal.