She had a plan of her own, which she
took partly from the house of a girl friend of hers where she had been
visiting, and we got a builder to carry out her idea. We did have some
talk about an architect, but the builder said he didn't want any
architect bothering around HIM, and I don't know as SHE did, either.
Her idea was plenty of chambers and plenty of room in them, and two big
parlors one side of the front door, and a library and dining-room on
the other; kitchen in the L part, and girl's room over that; wide front
hall, and black-walnut finish all through the first floor. It was
considered the best house at the time in Eastridge, and I guess it was.
But now, I don't say but what it's old-fashioned. I have to own up to
that with the girls, but I tell them so are we, and that seems to make
it all right for a while. I guess we sha'n't change."
He continued to stare at the simple-hearted edifice, so simple-hearted
in its out-dated pretentiousness, and then he turned and leaned over
the top of the fence where he had left his arms lying, while
contemplating the early monument of his success. In making my
journalistic study, more or less involuntary, of Eastridge, I had put
him down as materially the first man of the place; I might have gone
farther and put him down as the first man intellectually.
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