is a terrible task because of the flies. These chandeliers are also very bad for the eyes at night.
(c) Windows serve to admit light, "a little, much, or not at all," and to see outside. There are windows in sleeping-cars which close hermetically or can be opened at will; there are the great windows of modern cafés which close hermetically or can be entirely opened by means of a handle which causes them to disappear below ground; there are the windows in dining cars which have little louvres opening to admit air "a little, much, or not at all," there is modern plate glass which has replaced bottle-glass and small panes; there are roll shutters which can be lowered gradually and will keep out the light at will according to the spacing of their slats. But architects still use only windows like those at Versailles or Compiègne, Louis X, Y or Z which shut badly, have tiny panes, are difficult to open and have their shutters outside; if it rains in the evening one gets wet through in trying to close them.
(d) Pictures are made to be looked at and meditated on. In order to see a picture to advantage, it must be hung suitably and in the proper atmosphere. The true collector of pictures arranges them in a cabinet and hangs on the wall the particular painting he wants to look at; but your walls are a riot of all manner of things.
(e) A house is made for living in.—"No!"—"But of course!"—"Then you are a Utopian!"
Truth to tell, the modern man is bored to tears in his home; so he goes to his club. The modern woman is bored
