Part 2

Accompanying Mrs. Chester we passed into a large room with numerous tables and comfortable chairs having rubber tipped legs. On the walls were pictures, neatly and tastefully framed, of fish, game, fruit and vegetables in natural tints. Beautiful closets, with glass doors and drawers beneath, containing all the necessary table accessories, were arranged at convenient points. There were also other closets with artistically carved panels, the use of which I had yet to discover. Nothing, however, looked superfluous, the room being attractive, but intended for its particular purpose only.

There seemed to be no lingering, for when we sat down the room appeared to me as if it must contain its entire household. The tables drew my attention by their peculiar construction. They were round, the center appearing to be separate from the outer part and to revolve independently. At regular intervals on the central part there were convenient small handles by which it could be turned and its contents reached by those sitting at the outer table. Everything was served ready to eat, coffee and tea being in patent vessels, into the bottom of which slipped a hot asbestos plate. The tables averaged about five persons, each of whom helped himself or was helped by another, the meal progressing as happily as that of the previous evening. Having no more choice than when out of doors, there was no seeking of a particular seat, but all contributed their quota to making the party at every table a pleasant one.

To have attained such perfect precision seemed to me must have cost the study of a lifetime yet they told me that even those who had been there but a short while seemed to fully appreciate the spirit of the home and to join readily with the rest in their efforts for the best welfare of all. Regular meal hours were fixed, every one knew them and all came promptly.

After breakfast, the dishes were washed at convenient porcelain sinks which were disclosed on opening the other closets. The tables were reset for the next meal if it were likely to be eaten indoors, or the articles put away till next needed. Food and refuse were gathered in proper receptacles, put on the shelves of wheeled trucks and taken to their respective places. Everything was done not hastily, with the effort of hurrying to get through, but with the intent and purpose of doing it and doing it right and cheerfully.

I could not help thinking that it seemed as if some gentle fairy must have given her patronage here, the results appearing like magical wonders.

Mr. Andrews joined his aunt and myself as we were leaving the room. In the course of conversation it came out that he was by profession a doctor, and practised in the neighboring towns as well as in this immediate hamlet. Feeling that perhaps on my part it was taking too much of his time to show me about the place I said as much and he answered,

“Do not fear. In the first place, here in this particular locality I have little use for my professional knowledge. We seem to have been more than blessed with good health and spirits, and my ability, in greater or less degree, as a director for this home comes into better play than in the administering of my pills or powders.” A happy smile accompanied this remark as though he felt heartily grateful that it was true.

I asked Mrs. Chester whither she was bound and she said,

“To look after my children, keep busy and out of mischief for a while, but I shall see you later on. Take good care of her,” she said to Mr. Andrews as she left us.

“Which would you like to see first,” he questioned. “You have seen some of [Illustration: The Home of the late Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman Thompson.] our ideas, but what appeals most strongly to you as next to be investigated?”

“Everything,” I replied quickly, “and since I can not choose as all is equally interesting, you had better decide, for

‘The atmosphere Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers Seem full of welcome.’”

“Very well, as you are a woman, I judge that the prettier parts may appeal to you most strongly and shall show you our conversation corners and parlorettes.” And he led the way to one of the latter.

It was furnished in such manner as to show careful thought for adaptability to any season, yet seemed peculiarly suggestive of only one. There was no upholstered furniture to gather dust, lose shape, be uncomfortable in warm weather or hygienically unsafe. Pillows and adjustable seat cushions, however, were in plenty to be used presumably, in any way, for the comfort of occupants on the attractive couchs, chairs and rockers of willow. The floor in wood of artistically colored design had here and there a rug harmonizing in color, but light in weight. On the walls were a few carefully chosen pictures of summer scenes and themes suggesting thoughts of that season. A water-nymph, Pan, Psyche and other choice pieces of bric-a-brac roused my admiration, as did also the folios of small pictures giving views of cascades, mountain trails, lakes, forests and picturesque scenery. A cursory look at the magazines and books showed that they too were suggestive of nature study, outings and the many opportunities peculiar to the summer season, to come closer in touch with nature. The whole arrangement of the room seemed intended to suggest only summer and I asked if this had been their plan.

“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews in reply to my question, “that was part of the idea, but it was not intended to suggest such thoughts only, for as I have already remarked, we know not extremes here. The thought in the arrangement of each of our principal rooms, as you will discover, was, in conjunction with this to give a basis for change and rest to the mind if one were alone, or to serve as an impetus for topics of conversation, discussions and talks that will be helpful as well as interesting, and we look for this in all our household so far as possible.”

The idea seemed beautiful theoretically, but I could not help feeling a little skeptical about it.

From there we entered next what was evidently a music-room, for a fine piano stood open, choice music and books about music and musicians lay on the tables, and one or two different instruments gave proof that some of the people were interested in other lines. Here too, apparently, care had been taken to inspire to effort by portraits of some of the famous composers, including the beloved Mendelssohn, Rubenstein, Chopin, Liszt, and an excellent copy of the favorite picture “Song without words,” also known as “Mendelssohn and his Sister.” There was no lavish display in anything, but the whole room bespoke a wish to rouse and keep interested those with talent in this direction. As we turned to leave, a man, by no means young, but with purpose reflected on his strong, kind face, entered and Mr. Andrews introduced him as Mr. Whitehurst. Not wishing to interrupt him I said,

“We shall not disturb you, for I presume you are another Franz Abt or perhaps a Pinsuti about to try the melodies floating through your brain, and then give them forth to the world to enjoy.”

“No,” he answered laughingly, “I am practically but a beginner. Though having a little latent talent, until I came here the chance had never been offered to cultivate it. Now I have opportunity to practise and do what I can after regular duties are finished, and am very happy.” After chatting a little while we bade him good morning, and left him to pursue his studies.

Once outside of hearing, I ventured to inquire what the occupation might be of this particular man, and was told that his work lay chiefly in the care of the flower and vegetable gardens as he had excellent knowledge in this direction.

“Mr. Whitehurst came to us,” said Mr. Andrews, “heartsick and discouraged. He had sought work in his own and other lines without success, was alone in the world and not in the best of health. We asked what he could do, also an honest statement of where he had come from together with information on a few other minor points, then gave him a chance to do what he could. I am glad to say he has proven fully worthy of our confidence. He has under him several of our younger men who are equally interested in the best farming and floriculture. By agreement and careful arrangement of their work, each has time for his own special line of amusement, and Mr. Whitehurst has practised diligently. Fortunately, having in our household one who is quite a skilled musician we have been able to guide and cheer him on. I think we shall never have any regret for he has proven most exemplary in every way.”

Again I inwardly asked many blessings on those good people whose purpose in life was of the highest and noblest. While thinking thus, we had reached another room which I immediately conjectured had been planned to represent fall. Here again was unupholstered furniture, but its framework carried the colors of autumn foliage. Some of the pictures were of the woods in their rich beauty at the turning of the leaves, others were of the hunt, the vineyard and merry parties gathering nuts. The literature also suggested seasonable topics and one could only feel happy amid such surroundings. I was getting bewildered by the successful manner in which this novel idea had been carried out and less skeptical, and had to show my admiration in numerous expressions of praise.

A graceful turn past pretty corners brought us to the library which was so inviting with its little tables, comfortable chairs and shelves well filled with the best literature, dictionaries, cyclopedias and other reference books. Pictures of the “Poets Corner,” of the “Taj Mahal,” of the “Children of Charles I of England,” of the “Colosseum” were an inspiration to explore into the history of various countries, while excellent casts of the “Winged Victory of Samothrace,” “Mercury,” and the “Three Fates,” busts of Homer, Milton, Joan of Arc, Longfellow and Whittier seemed to make one involuntarily long to gain knowledge of mythology, art, famous people, poetry and other interesting subjects.

“Our library is small as yet,” said Mr. Andrews, “but we wish it to grow with us, to speak in itself of the progress of our life here. Therefore selections and additions are made with judicious care and we have allowed ample room for a few years growth at least.”

Leading into the library was a smaller room or alcove arranged with conveniences for a teacher and pupils, and even as we entered a little girl was just finishing a morning lesson in arithmetic. A bright face young woman accompanied her and both looked happy. Our introductions and conversation revealed the fact that the elder was a Miss Lorimer and had formerly been governess in a family of wealth, who believed in educating their children by travel as well as by books. She seemed to have a store of knowledge made all the richer by coming in close contact and studying things in fact as well as in fancy.

“My little pupil, Alice, here,” she said, “is particularly happy in having mastered a very hard problem for her in mathematics. We get on very well in other subjects, but this seems more difficult. Therefore to make it perhaps a little plainer and also less tedious than constant study from books, we are going out now to study arithmetic from nature. Everything looks refreshed since the rain and the ground absorbs the moisture so quickly that I think we shall be safe. We are going to add, subtract, multiply and divide the rows of potatoes in the vegetable garden and incidentally take a lesson in botany as we study the blossoms, leaves, roots and general manner in which potatoes grow. We shall have a happy time, shall we not, Alice?”

“Yes, Miss Lorimer,” the child answered. “I am always happy here. While I am busy with my hands putting away the dishes and placing the chairs about the tables in the dining-room, my mind is also full of thoughts about my lessons and hoping you will have something new in store for me. And I feel so glad to be useful that it seems to take almost only a minute to do anything. My! but I’m glad they brought me here.”

The dear little face did indeed look bright and happy as we all said good morning and they turned away together.

“Truly,” I said to Mr. Andrews, “you have certainly all learned the pleasure of giving as well as of receiving, for Miss Lorimer looks quite as pleased as little Alice.”

“Yes,” he answered, “that is so. They who thus give of themselves seem to be as glad to impart their knowledge as those seeking it are to gain it. Here, any who lack instruction are helped in all lines by those having ability to teach. Miss Lorimer from her large experience is very successful in teaching both young and old, and has a most delightful way of adopting methods likely to keep all interested and result in real study.”

“As an aid in such work,” he continued, “we have started here a miniature museum,” and he led the way across the room to where glass cases stood containing specimens of birds, insects, minerals and animals that were common about the place or that had been obtained elsewhere and contributed. An exceptionally fine botanic collection carefully mounted was of more than ordinary interest.

“How was it possible,” I asked, “for you to think of everything to thus complete the family life here?”

“Perhaps it was easier than you think,” Mr. Andrews replied. “Although my aunt and her husband in establishing this home had certain lines which they wished to follow, they never failed to get ideas from all and every one who could contribute anything toward making life within these walls happy for both young and old. They were fortunate in having among their friends some men and women with rare minds, a little means, and, like themselves, without relatives. Therefore, when spoken to regarding this novel scheme they were only too glad to become members of the household, to do their share in its labor and contribute their quota for the good of all.”

“Had this not been so,” I answered, “your wonderful home would have been an utter impossibility. It takes, first of all, people possessing broad, liberal spirits, willing to give in every way for the benefit of others, to make success crown such an effort as this. Knowledge is a very necessary item, but unaccompanied with generosity of heart, will ever be like the miser’s gold hidden away,—a principal accruing no interest. While not in use, neither can circulate for the benefit of the world or carry out its real purpose.”

To this Mr. Andrews replied, “Your comparison is not only a good one, but quite true. We try in every way to live for each other and to hoard up nothing.”

“But here we are to our next parlorette which may possibly be termed ‘winter:’ However, if this means to you only snow covered earth, ice-locked rivers, people in furs and the jingle of sleigh-bells, you can look for suggestions for such thoughts in the pictures mainly and some of the literature. We do not wish our smiles to freeze on the lips, our hearts to coldly respond to the pleas of others, nor our minds even temporarily inactive. We would get from winter thoughts of purity when Mother Earth puts on her ermine mantle; of lightheartedness as the children skate merrily over frozen waters glistening in the sunlight, or faces smile out on you as sleighs skim by with their happy occupants; of a happy home circle gathered about a great open fire as grandfather and grandmother tell of bygone days when they too were young and enjoyed roasting nuts or apples before the bright fire, or shook the corn-popper till every kernel had burst into a toothsome morsel.”

I could easily imagine such happy scenes as Mr. Andrews pictured and marveled not to find the “winter” room quite as he had described it. The furniture was of a rich, warm coloring, still carrying out the hygienic principle, since none of it was upholstered, but, as in the other rooms, its odd shapes and restful pillows made it equally as inviting as if of the richest satin. Against the snowy trimmings of the room and the white-framed pictures it was most effective. The books of travel, history and other more solid subjects, and magazines containing biographic sketches and articles on topics of the day, invited real, earnest reading. But an object of special interest was a rug of quite good size, in the center of the floor, whose color was pure white. I knew immediately that it was not fur, since they had told me that there were no extremes in weather in that locality. Presumably, therefore, a rug of that material would not find resting-place. On examination it proved to be nothing but white cord. Mr. Andrews seeing my attention was drawn to it explained,

“That rug we prize very highly, though so simple in its makeup. It is, as you see, knit of plain white cord and put on a substantial backing. One of our eldest ladies, now gone to rest, enjoyed passing some of her leisure time in this way, with the result that the rug is not only unique, but quite effective. Though from its fluffiness it looks somewhat heavy, with the great conveniences in our laundry it is easily washed and is therefore always white and clean.”

I could almost see the dear hands plying the needle, and the smiles of pleasure that must have crossed the good woman’s face as she watched the work grow beneath her nimble fingers till at last it was done and she could give it, showing in its color the purity of her life, in its work the activity of mind and heart till the last, and in all, her love for this happy home on earth.

I liked this room so well I would fain have lingered, but I felt that Mr. Andrews’s time was precious.

The one next to this proved to be an attractive corner which in itself was none other than a small art gallery. I recognized copies of a number of the masterpieces, well chosen, and intended, presumably, to carry out their mission of creating true admiration and appreciation of the beautiful. Here too were books about art and artists. Neat portfolios contained specimens, which were more than fair, of some of the efforts of members of the household. There were also a few excellent pieces of statuary. At one side, hidden by light drapery, was an exit to another room of larger size in which I discovered was a small, but seemingly very fine pipe organ. Encircled in suitable frames were portraits of Bach, Haydn and Handel, renowned for their exquisite religious compositions. There were also enlarged copies of details from Sargent’s famous Frieze of the Prophets and Abbey’s Quest of the Holy Grail, while an excellent reproduction of Correggio’s Holy Night with all its appealing sweetness awoke in me renewed admiration for the picture.

I felt instinctively that the purpose of this room was not only to give opportunity for practice and pleasure to those whose musical ability lay in this direction, but also, should any wish, to be used for sacred service during Sunday hours or at other times. Turning to Mr. Andrews I asked if my surmise was correct.

“Yes,” he said, “often many of our older members feel unable to take the long trip to church. Frequently, also, the younger people for some reason are disinclined to go. Amid such surroundings, however, there is opportunity for all to express their praise and thanksgiving.”

Our way then led us to another room whose predominant coloring in delicate greens, exquisite pictures, inviting books and graceful furniture declared it to be indicative of spring with all her beauty of leafing trees, budding blossoms, rippling waters released from winter’s cold embrace and the time when all nature seems to have gained new life, new strength, new inspiration. I think I liked this best. I could get from it my conception of what our lives should be. Free from the repelling cold of winter in our manner, in our thoughts and in our hearts; free from the feeling of depression, lassitude and inactivity accompanying hot summer days; free from the involuntary sense of sadness and cheerlessness that sometimes comes to those who know the changes of the seasons and in fall see the days glide by, now bright, now gloomy, the leaves showing forth in all their autumn splendor before they gently drop and die, and nature seems to have reached perfection only to wither and decay. But spring carries the blessed thought of resurrection, of a new life on earth and beyond, of hope and cheer, of inspiration to do and to be what is best. So of all I proclaimed this my choice.

“Spring, Spring, beautiful spring Laden with glory and light you some; With the leaf, the bloom, and the butterfly’s wing, Making our earth a fairy home. The primroses glitter—the violets peep; And zephyr is feasting on flower and bloom. Arouse, ye sluggards, what soul shall sleep While the lark’s in the sky, and the bee’s on the palm? The sweetest song, and the loudest string, Should pour a welcome to beautiful Spring.”

The beauty and restful peace of the entire place appealed to me so strongly that I longed to ask permission to spend at least a part of my vacation days there. The idea and wish growing stronger I turned to Mr. Andrews and said,

“Pardon the many questions with which I may possibly trouble you, and also what may be an unusual request. Do you ever take as boarders or as temporary members of the household, to do their share of duties here, strangers who may chance to find this delightful place?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews, “we have had both, though we prefer the latter for the reason that the visitor has better opportunity to study our life, perhaps to make suggestions in lines of which we had not thought, or to take our ideas with him or her, as the case may be, and sow the good seed in other soil.”

“I fear that I should have little chance to do any such work though I should certainly try.” I answered. My inward thought was, however, that perhaps it would be possible for me to remain long enough to get a thorough understanding of their life, describe it in such manner and give it to the world in such form that the excellent work might thus be increased indirectly by my efforts. Aloud, I continued,

“Would you be willing to take me as one or the other for a portion of my leisure or for all? I could give some compensation and also share in certain work.”

“I think,” said Mr. Andrews, “that we can arrange it satisfactorily to both parties and would suggest that you send immediately for anything further that you may require.”

“Thank you most sincerely,” I replied, “but in the meantime as we have taken nearly all the morning in getting thus far and as you have graciously permitted me to remain longer, shall I not excuse you, Mr. Andrews, for those who have a greater claim on your time? I shall now feel more or less free to roam at will in the rooms I have already seen and do not wish to engage too much of the time of you good people.”

“I _am_ a little surprised to find that it is so late,” he answered, “still one can hardly skim over our model if he would know it in all its details. There are some patients whom I must see, so I will leave you for a while.”