San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-01-07

from home, from friends, from national
| ity itself.
"Oh, George, Look"
So much for those whose purses make
| it possible for them 10 live just where
their fancies dictate. We others drive
about the country on spring and autumn
Sunday afternoons and admire, and
afterwards do our best with touch OF
imitation here and there.
''Oh :" cry the women's voices. from
the halted motor cars, 'Oh, George
look They've got those adorable lat
tice windows-they've copied that Dux-
bury doorway-look, we could have n
sleeping porch over the garage like that !
Oh, that's my house-look, Mollie, that $
my favorite--isn't il adorable )"
Linen closets, wall paper, teakwO1d
chairs and colonial mirrors. the vista
of blazing garden from the dining room
French windows, the roses reflected in
shining surfaces. the Chinese skirt, in
prune and gold and black, spread over
the piano-we are all noting, admiring.
copying as fast as we eau. And for n
woman who can really build Tudor
palace and furnish it appropriately and
establish it in woods and gardens in one
of the climatic paradises ow the world,
we feel an honest and undisguised envy.
A Sequel.
But wait-there's a sequel.
The owner of all this glory. has
recently done rather extraordinary
thing.
She says that American wealth is
being wasted upon American homes.
and that home life is almost unknown
in such mansion as hers, and she
consequently is having this magnifi-
cent place, which cost half a million,
torn down.
Lcyelled to the ground are the towers,
the carefully matched panelling, the
shining stairways and the deep set win
dOws. She likes the site. and she is
going 10 try now to erect n real home
upon it, where she will entertain less.
see more OF her real friends, and live
the simple life"
If We all were as wise as this woman
of wealth, there would be fewer do.
nestle tragedies in America.
Over and over and over again
humanity makes the same mistake; the
young couple are married, and they are
going TO have n magnificent home. The
walls and gardens. the rugs and chairs,
the first enthusiastic housewarmiugs
occupy them delightfully."- for months,
they show all their friends the tapes
tries and the tiles, the walled English
garden, and the Italian sun dial.
Prison Houses.
And then what? Well then, If they
have love, and children, and common
sense, and prayer, and books, and a few
real friends, they are safe.
Not safer than they would be in a
h,,nno1n,, -, l.,
real estate development that ever put
mp its enticing sings and held its first
auction of lots-no. But !
still safe.
And if they haven't? Then it's ono |
more crash.
The walls, with their tapestry papers |
Ind their loaded windows, are n prison; |
the prisoners move down the wide, |
polished stairways, and sit in the OK
lighted and appointed dining |
DOM. and eye themselves in the dressing |
-oom's dozen great flrrors with lifeless
md apathetic hearts.
What womGn's house and rugs and |
'ilver ever saved her happiness if it was
lot safe on other counts already.
What wealthy persons of your
are enthusiastic about |
lNiA cApthSINc hOult llNf, Icn' llIleen
ears after building it?
Why, these are only material things, /
hey grow stale, they lose their charm.
Houses We Laugh At.
Study for a moment the mansions of II
he last century-the houses million.
Tres were building, for instance, in 1
SOS. We look at their bay windows,
heir stupid narrow doorways, their
eideous cement scrolls and colored
lasters. and we laugh. We laugh just
s 1910 will laugh at us.
That's the Smith place. 1t cost four
undrcd thousand dollars, and nobody
as ever lived in it," we tell the visitor.
S we drive her about.
"That's the famous Jones place-isn't
gorgeous? The Jones girl ran away
nth the chauffeur, you remember the
lSe?
That's the Robinson place. it's an
yact copy Of the Duke of Ruritania's
lstle-the old lady's insane, they say.
he has seventeen different kinds OF
cks on her door.
Look, isn't that a perfectly beautiful
,lonial Dutch = they say it's like