nd one's resources in a defiant
water-proof construction. Instead of drain tiles, small stones covered
with a thin layer of hay or straw before being buried in the sand may
be used if more economical.

"If you cannot find the clean outlet for these buried drains or tiles
below the level of the cellar bottom, then raise the cellar, house and
all. No matter if you are accused of having a 'stuck up' house--better
be stuck up than stuck in the mud. Raise it till the entire cellar is
well above the level of thorough drainage. If this happens to carry it
above the surface of the ground, set the house on posts and hang the
cellar under the floor like a work-bag under a table or the basket to a
balloon.

"The foundation walls must indeed touch solid bottom and extend below
the action of frost; but if the wall above the gridiron and below the
paving of the cellar is of hard stones, or very hard bricks laid in
cement, there will be little risk from rising moisture.

"After all, the chief danger is not from underground springs, from
clean surface water or an occasional rising of the floods, but from the
unclean wastes that in our present half-civilized state are constantly
going out of our homes to poison and pollute the earth and air around
them."

"Half-civilized indeed!" said Jack, interrupting the reading of the
letter. "Besides, he is premature as well as impertinent. He doesn't
know but the house will stand on a granite boulder."

"I suppose he intends to warn us, and I am not certain that our lot is
as dry as it ought to be. At all events we will have some holes dug in
different places and see if any water comes into them."

"Of course it will. Haven't we just had the 'equinoctial'? The ground
is full of water everywhere."

"If it is full this spring it will be full every spring. We may as well
order the drain tiles."

"It shall be done," said Jack. "Now let us have the second proviso. I
hope it will be shorter than the first."

"And, secondly," Jill continued reading, "provided you know what your
house is for. It is my conviction that of all the people who carefully
plan and laboriously build themselves houses, scarcely one in ten could
give a radical, intelligent reason for building them. To live in, of
course; but how to live is the question, and why. As they have been in
the habit of living? As their neighbors live? As they would like to
live? As they ought to live? Is domestic comfort and well-being the
chi