CHAPTER XI

_HOUSE FURNISHING AND DECORATION_

House furnishings do not exist for themselves, but as a background for

the people who live among them. Just as the trees, rocks, fields and

animals have for their setting the green earth and the blue sky, and as

pictures have a background, a middle distance and a foreground, so human

beings have their setting. If the setting be more striking or more

elegant than the people for whom it exists, they are made uncomfortable

and overshadowed by it; if meaner and uglier than they, the people are

belittled by it. How many houses there are whose furnishings are much

more attractive than their inhabitants! A woman of superficial education

and trivial character has the distinction of having the most beautiful

library in her state; rows on rows of the best books, in beautiful

bindings, in a room of the most artistic design, and nobody to read

them. The contrast between the woman and her environment is pitiful.

The house and its contents should be an outgrowth of the tastes, habits

and occupation of its owners. Farm life in its best aspect is a synonym

for breadth, generosity, simplicity, cleanliness, abundance of sunlight,

fresh air and good food, the beauty of nature, freedom from stiff

formality--these are the things which the city dweller envies the

farmer. The equipment of the house should express this breadth, beauty,

and freedom of life. It follows from this that many pieces of furniture

and some kinds of decoration which are offered in the shops are quite

out of place in a country house. Imitation is, therefore, a dangerous

principle, for it is likely to lead to the choice and purchase of

articles which, however suitable for some other family and pretty in

themselves, are wholly inappropriate in the case of the purchaser.

There are three main considerations which should always be taken into

account in house-furnishing: health, suitability, and beauty. The order

of these is often reversed to the permanent injury of the housewife. The

first law of hygiene is that nothing can be suitable which is not

wholesome for those who are to use it; the first law of decorative art

is that nothing is beautiful which is not wholly suitable. If these

principles should be applied to the furnishing of country houses, they

would taboo dark, thick window draperies, nearly all bric-a-brac, heavy

upholstered furniture, parlor tea-tables filled with delicate (and

generally dusty) china, and many other things which have been copied

from the unwholesome and perhaps necessary customs of city life.

Taste is a matter of cultivation, as much as efficiency or honesty; the

habitual application of its fundamental principles in one’s own

household, and the seeing of beautiful things elsewhere, are the chief

means of its development. Man obtained his first conception of beauty

from the form and color which he saw in the world about him, and we have

only to apply the principles which are there apparent, in order to

develop good taste. Nature provides an immense and comparatively neutral

background; Nature always makes curves, never angles; Nature blends the

most sharply contrasting colors together in the butterfly’s wing, in the

poppies in a meadow, and in the feathers of the robin’s breast. The

greater part of the world is in soft colors, browns and grays, dull

greens and dull blues; the brilliant yellows, reds, pinks, purples and

blues are always in very small quantities against this very large,

neutral background. Since the furnishings of a house are the setting of

the people, none of them should be more conspicuous than the people.

Whatever brilliant color there is must be in relatively small

quantities against a soft background. Nothing either in form or color

should “stick out.”

If the general principles just laid down be applied to the details of

house furnishing, we shall find that many matters must be changed. Since

the housewife must usually do her own work with very little or, at most,

inadequate help, everything should be planned to save her strength. If

we remember, also, that the first effort of good housekeeping is to keep

dirt out of the house, and the second to get it out at once, it will

appear that carpets are unsanitary. It has already been shown that good

floors are now to be had easily and cheaply. If properly painted or

finished with oil and wax, they form the best foundation for tasteful

and cleanly housekeeping. Carpets not only keep the dirt in the house,

but they involve that annual bugbear, house-cleaning. Even when the

floors are old and poor, the space around the edge of a rug may be

puttied and painted so as to look very well when the rug is put down. By

rugs, I do not mean several little rugs, like oases in the slippery

surface, or at the doorways to trip the unwary, but a good,

generous-sized rug which just escapes the edges of the heavier furniture

around the sides of the room; which is substantial enough not to roll

up, and which is yet small enough to be carried in and out by one

person. If the woodwork and pictures be wiped with a damp cloth, the

windows washed, the floor dusted, and the rug beaten out of doors, now

and then, no such terrible upheaval as house-cleaning usually implies,

is necessary. Rugs may be had ready-made of ingrain, Japanese cotton,

and jute, Brussels, and more expensive materials, but should always be

heavy enough to lie flat without fastening and large enough to cover the

entire portion of the floor which is to be walked upon. The uncovered

space should usually not be wider than one and one-half feet.

All furniture that is not actually built into or fastened to the wall

and floors should be easily movable and easily cleaned. This at once

precludes the purchase of heavy, upholstered chairs and large sofas.

Wicker and rattan furniture, though not so artistic and costly as

antique wood, is very light, and with good removable hair cushions, may

be made quite as comfortable and far more cleanly than upholstered plush

and damask. The cushions may be beaten at the same time as the rugs, and

the dust thus taken out of the house. White enameled bedsteads and

washstands are rapidly superseding the heavy wooden ones. It is a

curious fact that although the persons of a family are of various sizes

and ages, chairs are still bought by the half dozen, without reference

to the people who are to sit upon them. Even in such minor matters as

chairs and tea-cups, some account should be taken of individuality.

If all furniture be selected with these simple principles in mind, i.

e., hygienic cleanliness, the minimum of labor for the housewife, and

the comfort of those who are to use it, there remains only one other way

in which to go astray: it may still be superlatively and positively

ugly; or it may be comfortable, sanitary, easily moved, and yet be

merely negatively ugly; or it may be made decorative by its graceful

form, the color of its covering, or the carving upon it. The first

principle of artistic decoration is that it must be wholly subordinated

to the use of the object which it adorns. For instance, windows are for

two purposes: to light the house and for seeing out. If a window opens

on a barnyard or some unpleasant prospect, you may put up a sash curtain

of light silk or muslin. Thus you obtain light but no view. But if you

wish to see out of the window, sash curtains are absurd. In the ordinary

private house, elaborate and heavy window curtains are out of place,

both for sanitary and artistic reasons. Whenever cleanliness is a prime

object, drapery should be movable and washable. Silk and velvet

draperies are only to be tolerated where there is a retinue of maids to

keep them clean.

The facility and cheapness of mill-work and lathe-work in wood has

vitiated the taste of Americans to a terrible degree. Nearly all

ready-made furniture is grooved, machine-carved, and ornamented in a way

to violate not only the principles of beauty, but of strength and

cleanliness as well. Ornament that does not _mean anything_ is not

merely commonplace but ugly. There are four chairs of different

patterns, and costing from $1.50 to $15, in the room where I sit; all of

them have legs. Now, legs are intended as a support, yet all these are

grooved and beaded and hollowed out in spots, so that twice as much

material as is necessary has been used to insure support. The

ornamentation is not pretty, the hollows are inevitably full of dust,

and they mean absolutely nothing to anybody who sees them. On the front

crosspiece of one large chair is glued a design of leaves in oak, by way

of ornament. If these had been carved out upon a beautiful strip of wood

by the hand of a cunning workman, they would at least have meant a man’s

thought and skill. As they are, they suggest merely a machine and a glue

pot, and thousands of others as hideous as they. Contrast with this

gingerbread furniture the plain, substantial colonial chairs and tables

and sideboards, made of beautiful wood, almost without ornamentation,

with shapely, slender, and strong legs and softly polished by hand.

Cheapness and quantity have been secured by machinery at the expense of

beauty and strength.

If the principle thus illustrated be true, then it follows that patterns

of any sort, whether in carpets, wall paper, china, or drapery, must be

very carefully used that they may not be more conspicuous than that

which they decorate. The floor and the wall are the basis both of

color-scheme and decoration. They are the background of the people who

are to live there; they should, therefore, be rather inconspicuous, soft

and indefinite in effect, and as becoming as possible to the human

figures. If the climate be sunny and the room well lighted, the walls

and floor may be dark and rich in effect; if the climate be uncertain

and often cloudy, or the room badly lighted, the effect should be light

and gay. Color is the chief means of producing this result: the walls

and floors of living rooms should be of soft, neutral brown, yellow,

red, green, or warm gray tints. Blue, though very lovely when carefully

used, is cold in effect, and seldom satisfactory for living rooms, while

the blue grays are positively chilling. Yellow in paler or richer

shades, depending on the lighting of the room, is uniformly cheerful

and satisfying; next to it rank the various terra cotta shades. Neither

rug nor wall-covering should have large, striking designs; if having

pattern at all, it should rather be of an indefinite, wandering design

like the Japanese jute rugs, or of small inconspicuous conventional

design, such as may be found in the best Brussels carpet.

If the floors, however, be poor and old they may be covered very

inexpensively with thick, strong building paper which comes in beautiful

tints and the rug may be laid on top of this; or with denim on top of

newspapers, which is only a little more expensive, and which may be had

in a variety of beautiful shades; or, best of all, with matting on top

of paper. Matting is especially desirable because the dust sifts through

below, and does not rise easily when swept. But the money spent to cover

up a poor floor would often serve to lay a good new one, and this should

be done whenever possible. For kitchen and, in some cases, for a dining

room floor as well, nothing is so satisfactory as linoleum. It is

impervious, warm, soft to the foot, easily kept in order by an

occasional coat of oil, and to be had in agreeable patterns. It may also

be used like denim, building paper, and matting, to cover up bad floors,

and as a basis for the rug; while more expensive, it is also much more

satisfactory than anything except a good hardwood floor. There is often

far too great contrast between the furnishings of the living room and

the parlor; between the “spare room” and the family bedrooms. The money

spent in elegance which is shut up in a room rarely used would serve to

add much to the comfort of the whole family. The guest will enjoy the

hospitality offered all the more if not treated too ceremoniously.

The furnishing of the living room should always include several easy

chairs, a good lounge, a place for books and magazines, and a thoroughly

good reading lamp. If it can be afforded, a small room off the sitting

room for writing and study is very desirable. It should contain book

shelves, a large writing table or desk, and a good lamp. But if the

extra room cannot be had, the desk and book shelves may be placed in the

parlor. There should certainly be some place where the children may

study or any member of the family may read and write uninterrupted. It

is as irksome to write without proper appliances as to bathe without

proper facilities.

The furniture and decorations of bedrooms can scarcely be too simple;

the walls may be lighter and gayer than those of living rooms. Blue and

white or pale green and white may be used as color-schemes for very

sunny bedrooms, yellow or pink and white for less sunny ones. One or two

single, white, enamelled iron bedsteads, a washstand, a bureau or a

chest of drawers with glass above, two or three low, light chairs, and a

table or desk at which one may write, is an ample furnishing, if there

be a good closet or wardrobe. The rug need be only large enough to cover

the space in front of the bed, bureau, and stand, if the floor be well

matched and painted or oiled. A bedroom should give the impression of

spotlessness and comfort; everything should be washable or cleanable;

unless used also as a sitting room, it should not have a superfluous

article in it. Mats, bric-a-brac, even many pictures, are quite out of

place.

Since cost, styles and tastes differ so widely in different localities,

no detailed directions can or should be given that will be generally

applicable. If the principles illustrated in this chapter be correct,

they will serve to guide and to develop the taste of many different

kinds of persons.

The farmstead: The making of the rural home and the lay-out of the farm (5th edition) · 第 11 / 21 章