From Drawings by the Author.

TO THE REVISED EDITION.

On a recent visit to the young woman whose experiences and observations are contained in this book, I was greatly pleased to find her zeal and interest in domestic architecture unabated. She sees that there have been changes and improvements in the art of house building, but declares that while some of her opinions and suggestions of ten years ago have been approved and accepted, it is still true that by far the greater number of those who plan and build houses are guided by transient fashion, thoughtless conservatism and a silly seeking for sensational results, rather than by truth, simplicity and common sense.

She has no doubt that her daughter, Bessie, will study and practice domestic architecture, and naturally expects the houses of the future to contain charms and comforts of which we have as yet only the faintest conception.

E.C. Gardner.     

Springfield, Mass., November, 1895.

"MR. E.C. Gardner, architect, has consented to write us a series of articles upon house-building," said one of his associates to the editor of Our Continent a few months since. "What do you think of it?"

"We have no sort of use for such a thing," replied the editor. "There are treatises enough professing to instruct people how to build houses. You can't make every man his own carpenter any more than you can make him his own lawyer. More's the pity."

"But I thought you said you wanted some one who had sense enough to put a thoroughly capable and accomplished housewife's notions of what a house should be into readable prose?"

"So I did," responded the editor, "and I still want it, and am likely to want it for a long time. I do not wish articles on House-building but on Home-building, and you will never get such from an architect."

"Don't be too sure of that," said the other, who had had a taste of the writer's quality before. "Suppose he should wish to try it?"

"Well,—let him," was the grumbled assent.

There are three classes of people to whom this little volume with its quaint descriptions and wise suggestions will be peculiarly welcome.

First—Those who contemplate, at some time, the building of a home. It matters not whether it is to be humble or palatial, "The House that Jill Built" will be found to contain not only the most valuable suggestions, but a humorous gaiety that will be sure to add pleasure to this duty.

Second—Those who desire at any time to enlarge, modify or improve the homes in which they live; for they will find very forcibly illustrated in its pages the principles which should govern such modification.

Third—Those who, like the writer hereof, have suffered in purse and comfort from the lack of such a pleasant and philosophical treatise, and who will be glad to see how their blunders might have been avoided.

In penance for the lack of faith displayed at the outset and in hearty approval of the pages that follow, the Editor has written these words.

A.W. Tourgée.     

Philadelphia, Oct., 1882.

If some ardent esthete had arrested her flight of fancy by asking whether she found room for soul-satisfying beauty, she would have dropped from her air-castle, landing squarely upon her feet, and replied that if her house was comfortable and told no lies it would be beautiful enough for her—which was saying a great deal, however interpreted, for she loved beauty, as all well-balanced mortals ought, and she would have been conspicuously out of place in a house that was not beautiful.

"My wife and I happen to be passing through town and have been struck by the appearance of your house. Will you kindly allow us to have a glimpse of the interior?"

The request was invariably granted, for nothing is more gratifying than the fame of having the "finest house in town." Unhappily the interiors were never satisfactory to Jill, and her valedictory to the owners of the striking houses seldom went beyond thanks for their courtesy.

"We visited several houses on our trip," she observed to her father—

"Several hundred," said Jack—

"But were disappointed in them all. Many of them must have cost more than ours will cost, but the money seemed to us foolishly spent."

"Yes," said her husband, "we concluded that the chief plank in the platform of the architects and builders was 'Millions for display—not one cent for comfort.'"

"Well, Jack, we have learned one thing on our travels—where not to look for the plans of our house."

"It appears, Jack, my dear, to be absolutely indispensable to our future happiness that the house shall front north, south, east and west."

"Let's build it on a pivot."

"We must not have large halls to keep warm in cold weather, and we must have large halls 'for style.' The stories must not be less than eleven nor more than nine feet high. It must be carpeted throughout and all the floors must be bare. It must be warmed by steam and hot water and furnaces and fireplaces and base-burners and coal grates."

"We shan't have to go away from home to get into purgatory, shall we?"

"Hush! The walls of the rooms must be calcimined, painted, frescoed and papered; they must be dyed in the mortar, finished with leather, with tiles, with tapestry and with solid wood panels. There must be blinds—outside blinds, awnings, inside shutters, rolling blinds, Venetian shades and no blinds at all. There must be wide, low-roofed piazzas all around the house, so that we can live out of doors in the summer, and on no account must the sun be excluded from the windows of the first story by piazza roofs. At least eight patent sanitary plumbing articles, and as many cooking ranges, are each the only one safe and fit to be used. The house must be high and low—"

"I'm Jack and you shall be game—"