WHAT SHALL WE STAND UPON?
“Splitting the difference”
is a convenient compromise, but it is not always creditable
to both parties, and Jill thought it would not be
safe with such advisers to assume that Wisdom’s
house is always built between two extremes. She
felt, too, that the architect’s discussion of
details must be tiresome to her guests, and therefore
resolved to take up but one more of his queries, spending
the remainder of the evening in looking over plans
and letters, of which she had an ample store still
unexplored, or in listening to Bessie’s ardent
description of the treasures she hoped to find in
the lofty recesses of the old garrets.
“I fear the next topic will
not be deeply interesting, but it is the last one
to-night, and Jack must give me his undivided
attention if he wishes to know what we are to stand
upon in the new house.”
“Is it about floors?”
Bessie asked. “Do please have waxed floors.
I dote on waxed floors, don’t you, Mr. James?”
“Not especially; but I’m
pretty apt to slip on them. Is it about floors,
Jill?”
“Yes, but chiefly about the
best way to build them their construction.”
“I thought the architect was
to settle questions of construction to suit himself.”
“He is, and this topic he writes
’concerns construction, cost, use and design,
and is, therefore, one on which we may properly take
counsel together.’”
“How condescending!”
“I suppose you would object
to iron girders with brick arches between them on
account of their cost, but I hope to see rolled iron
beams for brick dwelling-houses so cheaply made that
they will be commonly used instead of wood. Such
iron ribs, with the brick arches or other masonry
between them, might well form the finish of the ceilings,
and if we were accustomed to see them, our frail lath
and plaster would seem stale, flat and combustible
in comparison. The usual mode of making floors
of thin joists set edgewise, from one to two feet apart,
with one or two thicknesses of inch boards on the
top to walk upon, and lathing underneath to hold the
plastering, is perhaps the most economical use of
materials. A more satisfactory construction would
be to use larger beams two or three times as far apart,
laying thicker planks upon them and dispensing with
plastering altogether, or perhaps applying it between
the timbers directly to the under-side of the planks,
leaving the beams themselves in sight. If the
floor is double the planks or boards lying directly
upon the joists may be of common, coarse stock, hemlock
or spruce, upon which must be laid another thickness
of finished boards. It is for you to say whether
the finished upper floor shall be of common, cheap
stock, to be always covered by carpets, or of some
harder wood carefully polished and not concealed at
all, except by occasional rugs.’”
“Oh, I do hope she will
have rugs!” Bessie’s remarks were semi-asides
addressed chiefly to Jim. “There’s
nothing so lovely as these oriental rugs. Kitty
Kane had an exquisite one among her wedding
presents, and when her house was built the parlor
was made to fit the rug. It makes it rather long
and narrow, but the rug is too lovely.”
“’It is also for you to
say whether the finished floor, if you have no carpets,
shall consist simply of plain narrow boards or be more
expensively laid in parquetry designs. In the
latter case I shall claim the privilege of choosing
the pattern.’”
“Why should he trouble himself
about the pattern of the wood floors any more than
he would about the style of the carpets?”
“He would probably say, because
the floors are a part of the house for which he is
making the plans and will last as long as the house
itself, while the carpets are subject to changing
fashions and will soon return to their original dust.
But he may attempt to dictate in regard to carpets
if we give him a chance.”
“Undoubtedly to the extent of pitching
them out of the window.”
“In laying double floors one
simple matter must not be neglected. The under,
or lining boards, which are usually wide and imperfectly
seasoned, should be laid diagonally upon the
joists; otherwise in their shrinking and swelling
they will move the narrow finished boards resting
upon them and cause ugly cracks to appear, even though
the upper floor is most carefully laid and thoroughly
seasoned. The liberal use of nails is another
obvious but often neglected duty of floor-makers,
who seem, at times to act upon the supposition that
as a floor has nothing to do but lie still and be
trodden upon, it only needs to be laid in place and
let alone. This may be true of stone flagging;
it is far from being true of inch boards, that have
an incurable tendency to warp, twist, spring and shake.
Lining floors, especially, whatever their thickness,
should be nailed spiked is a more forcible
term to every possible bearing and with
generous frequency; to be specific, say every three
inches. The finished hoards must also be secured
by nails driven squarely through them. If you
object to the appearance of nail heads the boards may
be secured by nails driven through the edges in such
way that they will be out of sight when the floor
is finished; but this should never be done except
by skillful and conscientious workmen. There is
no excuse for this “blind” nailing in
floors that are to be covered by carpets, and it is
seldom desirable under any circumstances. All
thorough nailing adds greatly to the strength, and
will alone prevent the creaking of the boards, so
annoying in a sick room and so discouraging to burglars.’”
“Whatever else we do we must
make it all right for the burglars. Tell him
we will have floors that can be used either way, with
rugs or without, with matting, with carpets, or with
nothing at all but their own unadorned loveliness.
Those in the chambers, where there is not much wear
and tear, may be of common clear pine, and we can paint
or stain a border around the edges. The others
ought to be of harder wood, and, as they will last
as long as we shall need floors, we can afford to
have them cost rather more than a good carpet, perhaps
thirty or forty cents a square foot.”
“I don’t see the necessity
for that,” said Jill, who had a frugal mind at
times. “I know they will outlast a great
many carpets, but it is considerable work to keep
a bare floor in order or rather to put it
in order which must be taken into account;
and, as for saving the expense of carpets, we shall
be likely to spend twice as much for rugs as the carpets
would cost. However, extravagance in rugs is not
the fault of the hard-wood floors and ought not to
be charged against them. We might have a few
parquetry floors, but for most of the rooms plain
narrow strips, with a pretty border, will be good enough.
What do you think about it, Jim?”
While Jim was preparing to say that
he didn’t think he knew much about such things,
there came a crash on the floor above, followed by
loud and incoherent observations by the chambermaid.
The chandelier began to shake, as that substantial
domestic fairy flew through the passage that led to
the back stairs, at the head of which she was distinctly
heard to exhort the cook in good set terms to “hurry
up with the mop, for the water-jug was upset and the
mistress would be raving if the water came through
the ceiling.”
The quartette below listened with
conflicting emotions. Jill was indignant, Bessie
horrified apparently, Jim greatly amused,
and Jack sublimely indifferent. “If there’s
anything I despise,” said Jill, “it
is a house that makes a human being seem like an elephant,
and where I can’t say my prayers or move a chair
in my own room without rousing the entire household.”
“There’s one good thing
about it,” said Jim pleasantly. “You
can’t help knowing what is going on in your
own house.”
“Spoken like a man and a brother,
James. You always go to the root of a matter.
I like to keep posted. No skeletons and gunpowder
plots for me. I had this house made so on purpose.”
Whereat they all laughed and again took up the floor
question, while the sound of hurrying feet and the
rattling of domestic implements went on overhead, and
the chandelier trembled with the jarring floors.
“I suppose forty dollars’
worth of timber originally added to these floors would
have made them so firm that we might drive a caravan
across them without shaking the building. We will,
at least, have solid floors in the new house; but
the architect informs us that ’effectual deafening
of the floors and partitions necessarily adds considerably
to their cost, since the walls and ceilings must be
virtually double or filled with some light porous
material. The construction I have described for
making the house fireproof, or nearly so, would also
make it comparatively sound-proof. It would prevent
the passage of any reasonable in-door noises, though
it might not withstand the stamping of heavy steel-shod
feet. Indeed, the question of bare, hard-wood
floors is, in one of its aspects, rather a question
of boots. It is most unreasonable to say the
floors are noisy and slippery when the fault lies
rather in the hard, stiff, awkward receptacles in which
our feet are imprisoned. If we are ever clad
from head to foot in the robes of a perfect civilization,
we shall doubtless find smooth bare floors for general
use more satisfactory than any kind of rugs, mats or
carpets.’
“And now,” said Jill,
“we will leave the rest of this interminable
letter for a more convenient season and see what our
indefatigable aunt has sent as the latest and best
thing in domestic architecture. If you will take
the plans and follow the description, I will read the
letter straight through, though it will doubtless
contain more or less advice not strictly pertinent
to house-building. Here it is:
MY DEAR JILL: On further reflection I have concluded that the
little cottage plans which I sent last will not answer. I doubt whether you
and Jack have sufficient independence and originality to make a success of
living; even temporarily, in a small, unpretending cottage. It requires
unusual strength of character
“Listen, Jack.
to establish and maintain
a high social standing with no adventitious aids.
You cannot at present afford a large establishment,
but you must have one that is striking and elegant.
I was first attracted to this house by its external
appearance not especially the form,
but the material, as we often see a lady of inferior
physique whose rich and tasteful attire
makes her the observed of all observers.”
“Aunt Melville is inclined to
be dumpy, and is immensely proud of her taste in dress.
“’The walls near the ground the
underpinning, I suppose is of solid
granite blocks, irregular in size, rough and rugged
in appearance. Indeed, the impression is
of exceeding solidity and strength, perhaps because
the walls slope backward as they rise. The
first story is also of stones, but such peculiar stones
as I never expected to see in a dwelling house, precisely
like those used in the country for fences.’”
“How exquisite!” exclaimed
Bessie, clapping her hands in ecstacy.
“’Some of them
seemed to be covered with the gray lichens that
are found growing on rocks,
“How delicious!”
“’ but I very
much fear these will be destroyed by the action of
the lime in the mortar. The stones vary in color,
and at a little distance the effect is like a
rich mosaic. The corners of the house and
the sides of the windows are made of peculiarly
dark, rough-looking bricks that harmonize well with
the general tone of the stone walls. The second
story is of wood, covered with shingles that have
not been painted, but simply oiled, and they have
turned a dark reddish-brown. I found on inquiry
that they are California red wood. The roof is
of red tiles, and the chromatic effect of the entire
building is very charming and aristocratic.’”
“That would suit us perfectly,”
said Jack, “but I think our aristocratic aunt
is more tiresome than the architect. Jim is asleep
and Bessie is on the verge of slumber.”
But just at that moment Bessie gave a piercing scream
and bounded from the sofa in uncontrollable affright,
while an army of reckless June bugs came dashing in
through the open, unscreened windows.