ives comfort and
convenience to the new building.

Shrubbery has been planted around the house, and a veranda thrown out;
window-boxes filled with brilliantly blossoming plants add a bit of
color to the remodeled farmhouse which is painted red with white trim.
Velvety lawns have replaced the old-time farming lands, and the planting
of trees has done much to add to the picturesqueness of this estate.
The grounds themselves are extensive, covering forty-five acres, and the
natural beauties are unusually varied. Broad stretches of fields and
hills intersected with trees make a most appropriate setting for the old
Adams homestead.

CHAPTER XII

THE CHARLES MARTIN LOEFFLER HOUSE

It was a staircase that was responsible for the remodeling of one house
which had no other unusual feature. It was designed by a village
carpenter whose object was four walls and a shelter rather than
architectural beauty. The structure was so simple and unobtrusive that
it did not arouse any enthusiasm in the heart of the architect who
examined it, for it presented no chance to show his ability in its
remodeling. It was the kind of a farmhouse that one would find in almost
any suburban town, built without any pretensions, its only good feature
being the staircase which saved it from passing into oblivion and caused
it to be remodeled into a charming, all-the-year-round home.

It had been unoccupied for a long period and with exterior
weather-beaten and interior uninhabitable, it presented a forlorn
appearance, repelling to most would-be purchasers. It stood by the side
of a traveled road and in its best days was occupied by a farmer and
his family who cared more for the barn adjoining the house than they did
for the farmhouse itself.

The estate was a large one that had been neglected and allowed to run
down until weeds and rank grass were so intermingled that it seemed a
discouraging task to bring it back into a good state of cultivation.
Adjoining the house, and connected with it by a shed, was a large barn
with sagging roof and so dilapidated that it seemed past restoring.
Across the front, defining the estate, was once a neat paling fence that
had been torn down until only a small portion remained.

Many acres of the estate were meadow-land which swept to the horizon of
trees, yet the once fine apple orchard, though sadly in need of pruning,
showed promise, and there were possibilities in the whole estate that
needed only atten