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chimney, came to the conclusion that ninety-five per cent. was wasted. Out of this discovery came his great invention, the Franklin stove, which has gradually degenerated into the thousand-and-one so-called improvements of stoves now in common use, most of them serving only to consume the vital properties of the atmosphere, no arrangements being made for proper ventilation in the apartments where they are located.

I can remember in my childhood an invention of my grandfather's, which he termed the "iron back-log." It consisted of a cast-iron box, to take the place of the ordinary back-log. The air from without, being admitted into the cavity, became heated, and was introduced into the room through a pipe similar to that of the modern register. This, while detracting nothing from the radiation of the fire, secured a large amount of additional heat; and it may not be conceited for me to state that I believe this was the germ from which hot-air furnaces have been developed. Precisely the same idea is now carried out in connection with grates. In place of the usual back lining of soapstone, there is a small iron chamber introduced, from which the hot air is allowed to escape into the apartment through a perforation under the mantel-shelf. This is almost as economical as the stove, and it possesses the additional advantage of introducing fresh air into the room, at the same time affording means of escape for foul.

Worcester says, in defining the word "hall," that, as applied nowadays, it is perhaps improperly used. A simple passage-way from an entrance is not, correctly speaking, a hall. A few of his definitions read as follows: Porch, a covered station; Portico, a covered walk outside the building. A vestibule is a "fore-room," and a hall is the "first large room within a building, both serving as an entrance." During the Middle Ages, and down to the Georgian period, this apartment, with its spacious and curiously constructed fireplace, was always one of the largest in the mansion, and usually the most cheerful. It was the general assembly or living room of the family, from which the other apartments were entered. The stairs were elaborately carved, leading, with broad landings and unexpected turns, into chambers and corridors; and the irregularity of the stories were frequently overcome by an ingenious adjustment of these landings. The windows were never made to appear symmetrical on the outside, but were placed here and there, as the vagaries of the stairs required. Paint and plaster were but little known in the simplicity of construction common among our forefathers; and the rafters themselves, being forced to appear, were carved and moulded in various ways, thus becoming an ornament to the apartment. If the walls of masonry ap

peared cold, they were sometimes decorated with tapestry hangings, the bases being wainscoted with bold and honest panelling.

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In attempting, therefore, to revive the ancient styles, it would be well to study the interior as well as the exterior of some of the dwellings of the period, and, when consistent with modern uses, adapt their distinctive features to the requirements of the present day. We have attempted such a revival in the grand hall. The tea-room, conservatory, and billiardroom complete the arrangement of this floor. The second story contains a hall similar to the lower one, which might serve as the children's playroom. This and the third story together contain twenty bedrooms, liberally supplied with

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Corner Mullion, in Design No. 22.

closets, bath and dressing rooms. The attic is a full story, and has a loft over the entire ceiling.

The external walls of the building are of hard-burnt brick; the angles and openings of pressed, and the string-courses of moulded, brick. Black or colored brick, and even illuminated tiles, may be worked in with pleasing results. If thought desirable, tile-hanging might be introduced on the third or attic story, which would serve in a measure to relieve the height of the wall. As a good contrast, the main and veranda roofs might be of green slate, without pattern; and if the wood-work could be of pitchpine, oiled, it would also harmonize. The ceilings of the veranda, porch, and balcony might be of ultramarine blue, picked out either with buff or red. On the kitchen-chimney panel I have designed a sundial. This was quite common on old buildings, and is both useful and ornamental.

A favorite custom in Gothic architecture is that of placing a series of windows near together, divided simply by lines or mullions. This is ob

jectionable, inasmuch as they cut up the wall surface, leaving no place for furniture. In bedrooms, especially, we require broad piers, with windows on each side for the accommodation of dressing-tables; and unless we resort to the system, shown in the illustration, of placing the windows above the furniture, considerable difficulty is experienced. There is a similar objection on the outside; as here, by cutting up the broad surface, on which we rely for dignity and repose, the design seems to be attenuated and frittered away. The difficulty, however, may be happily overcome by the introduction of a very picturesque feature peculiar to this style, known as the corner mullion. It consists in placing the division immediately in the angle, and arranging the windows each side, instead of grouping them along the walls. The vignette showing the gable over the billiard-room illustrates the method by which this is accomplished.

Frequently in living-rooms, where two sides of the apartinent are taken up with fireplace and sliding-doors, and the other two have windows, from the fact of these being in the centre there is absolutely no place for piano, bookcase, sideboard, or, indeed, any large piece of furniture. If, however, the windows are placed in the angle, the entire wall becomes available.

The vignette shows an interior in which ample space for a dressingtable between the windows is allowed, in consequence of the corner-mullion system having been adopted. Room for two bureaus, with a large mirror between, is also obtained. The glass could readily be made to swing, and sufficient space allowed for a hanging closet behind.

THE

CHAPTER XXIII.

CITY ARCHITECTURE.

The Law of Alignment.—Amusing Story by the Rev. Walter Mitchell.

HERE is one point, connected with city architecture, which has been uppermost in my mind for some years past; that is, the incongruity of the buildings along our streets. We find every twenty-five feet a specimen of some artistic style of building which, if it pervaded the whole block, might give a breadth and grandeur to the entire façade. As it is, each man builds solely on his own account, without regard to the height and style of his neighbor. One, we will say, has put up a Néogrec building on lot 216, and his neighbor goes and builds along-side of him an iron structure of the Renaissance order. Now, if both were either Néogrec or Renaissance, although sufficiently different in design to mark the property of each, a good effect would be produced. Then, again, in order to give prominence, one makes his cornice tower above that of the other. Possibly a great deal more fault might justly be found with the architect than with the owner; for if the former had the strength of mind to come out boldly and oppose these heresies, a great amount of good might be accomplished. It is evidently the architect's duty, in designing a city house, to consider his surroundings, and, by a judicious adaptation of his design, to "sandwich" his building in such a manner as to harmonize with the neighboring masses. Clients are generally willing to be influenced by their architect; and if good reasons are advanced for opposing their pet notions, they are usually found to have their weight.

It may be thought that in our republican country-where it is the especial privilege of every citizen to commit whatever enormity he pleases --it would be considered egregious tyranny to have any legislation on the subject; but in France some of the finest architectural effects are the result of what is known as the law of alignement. We, in reality, have such a law, namely, that buildings shall not go beyond a certain line on the street. The French simply carry this a little farther by regulating the

lines of stories, so that no cornice shall be built above a certain height. Thus, in order to attain greater accommodation, builders found themselves compelled to extend the roofs, which were frequently run up to the height of two or three stories. This was the origin of the Mansard roof. If our legislators would really take the matter in hand, and look to the ultimate advantage of beautifying our cities, they might, without tyranny, pass some law whose effect would be to encourage this reform. By granting an abatement of taxes, or some other privilege, many persons might be induced to submit their designs to the censorship of a commission, whose duty it should be to secure harmony as far as possible.

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In a book of mine published some years ago-at the time when the New York Post-office was just commenced, and Barnum's Museum was still fresh in the memory of children and our country cousins-I expressed some of these sentiments on the laws of alignment. My remarks suggested to the Rev. Walter Mitchell the following humorous effusion:

"For the last six weeks we have been entertaining that intelligent Zulu whom Bishop Colenso 'took for his pal.' We have shown him our city by daylight and by gaslight. We have striven to impress upon him its wonderful superiority to the principal village of Pennsylvania and to the

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