The writer in sending out this little book asks that its readers will
try to bear in mind that while the whole idea may be more or less ideal,
it is hoped that here and there a thought may be culled which will serve
as a working-basis for one or another of its readers. Often in life we
realize that something within us is “knocking to be let out,” that it
may go forth and be of use unto the world. We frequently need but the
direction pointed to find a path along which we can tread, scattering
here and there a kindly word, giving of ourselves whatever is best and
worthy the giving, in return broadening our own lives, coming in touch
with all natures and feeling the satisfaction that results from “having
tried to do something.” Be the effort ever so small, it yet shows a
desire put in action and we can hope that, given a multitude of these
good actions, the result must surely be more sunshine, more hope, more
inspiration to help others, greater ability to enjoy all that God has
put before us.
The writer could carry out her purpose only by having a setting which is
purely ideal, but from the ideal can often be deduced something real or
practical, and of that we can use and adapt to ourselves and individual
circumstances whatever will fit. In this case, it may be much or it may
be little, but let us hope that it will be something, at least, whatever
its measure may be. Therefore take from these pages that which appeals
to you, then pass on the book to the next that whatever good seeds this
little work may contain will in time fall in fruitful soil.
IDEALIA, A UTOPIA DREAM
or
RESTHAVEN
“Reflect that life, like every other blessing,
Derives its value from its use alone.”
The day was ideal for me, an idler who had left the train at the station
not far from this particular hamlet, more because it looked attractive,
than from actual intention. Strolling leisurely along the shady lanes,
it seemed to me that something more than the usual calm and restful
peace of the country emanated from somewhere. A little farther on I
reached a place where all nature seemed to be rejoicing in her own
glory. Even the fence about the grounds surrounding the very large
dwelling within its boundary looked attractive in its quaint style and
bedecked with the flowering vines which clung lovingly to it. The
grounds were large and well kept. Immense trees spread their branches
and shade in all directions, looking cool and inviting with the
comfortable chairs, hammocks, tables and garden seats beneath, arranged
with seeming carelessness, yet each had apparently been put in the best
place for the general comfort and pleasure of any occupant. Beautiful
flower beds, many with fountains interspersed, made one linger
involuntarily and either drink the crystal water from the numerous
bright cups generously provided, or pass the hand gently through the
water, enjoying its refreshing coolness and bright sparkle in the
sunlight as it dropped from the fingers. What looked like dining-tables
on wheels seemed to be standing in convenient places but movable to
different locations, to allow the pleasure of eating out of doors,
presumably, as long as weather permitted. Truly, the inmates of this
enchanting spot must surely have studied how and where best to enjoy
life. Leisurely walking around I wondered that no one seemed visible
about the place, especially as it was after two o’clock in the afternoon
of a summer’s day. Reaching the house and feeling free to view it on all
sides, as no one appeared to prevent, I proceeded to examine it with the
idea of determining what sort of people lived here. On every side there
were large windows, and piazzas with tables, wicker rockers, sofas and
easy chairs. Here, too, with careful forethought, shading vines in not
too great profusion were trained on the sunny side of the house, making
inviting retreats from the sun, yet with occasional open spaces for any
preferring its full bright rays. Though an uninvited guest, I took the
liberty of picking out a comfortable corner, and feeling somewhat tired
from the long walk thought I would rest for an hour or two, having no
fear of being molested in such a peaceful place. It was then nearly
three.
Surely my intended short nap must have stretched itself into hours, for
on awakening I saw people in every direction, young, old and middle
aged, but seemingly more of them old than young. A glance at my watch
showed that it was almost five o’clock, and since no one had troubled me
on discovering my unlicensed possession of one of the inviting nooks, I
felt free to question these new people.
A gentleman of fine presence, accompanying a pleasant looking lady, came
up to me with friendly greeting.
“My good friends,” said I, “will you kindly tell me what place this is,
who these people are and what they do?”
With a cordial smile the lady answered,
“Certainly. We are one large happy family.”
The gentleman must have seen a sort of derisive smile cross my face (my
inward thought was, one of those new sects that are springing up with
somewhat mushroom-like growth all over the country), for he hastened to
add,
“But not the kind of which you are thinking.” Continuing he said, “About
ten years ago, a lady somewhat elderly, and her husband, also no longer
young, were left alone in the world without children, but with plenty of
money and decided to create a model home. Permit me,” he broke off, “to
introduce myself as Mr. Andrews, their nephew, and this,” turning to his
companion, “is Miss Bates, one of the best and most charming ‘spirits’
here.”
This introduction so frankly given brought out, of course, a revelation
of my own name and residence, and in brief how my fondness for exploring
and investigating had led me hither.
“But you were telling me,” I said, addressing Mr. Andrews after we had
chatted awhile, “how this wonderful place came into existence.”
“So I was,” he answered, smiling a little. “Well, to proceed, these dear
old people conceived the happy idea of building a home and founding a
sort of ideal refuge for young and old, with or without means, who had
no immediate family or friends to look after their welfare. Together
they drew plans for the building, but the difficulty was to find the
right locality. Though no longer young, they were yet strong and able to
travel, so spent many days and weeks searching for a place satisfactory
as to climate both for human beings and for what livestock they might
care to raise, with soil lending itself readily to the cultivation of
various nutritious vegetables and fruits, and with abundant space for
the growth of this ideal colony. Evidently they could have found no
better location than this for the seasons here are never extreme, and
nature seems to have smiled her blessing on the good work so far, since
all our efforts have met with unusual success. Shall I go on?” he
questioned, stopping almost abruptly.
A simultaneous yes from Miss Bates and myself must have indicated a real
interest, and being thus encouraged he proceeded,
“After finding a satisfactory site, they next erected this substantial
building of plain brick, in which the first objects to be attained were
cleanliness, comfort and convenience. They wished it commodiously
arranged with light and airy bedrooms, dining-room, kitchens, and cosy
nooks taking the place of the long and stately drawing-room, these last
being so arranged and connected with each other as to make large
assembly-rooms should occasion demand. A carefully selected library was
also to have suitable quarters, growing with the place.”
By this time my curiosity was so keen that I begged the privilege of
seeing the whole plant with explanations added as my guides took me
through, which request was most readily granted. But before proceeding,
I could not refrain from asking why it was that I had found the place
apparently deserted. In answer to this query Mr. Andrews said, while he
strolled leisurely along,
“As you have perhaps noticed, many, in fact most of the family are
elderly people. In following out the plan we have tried not to forget
that older persons need more sleep, that they are particularly apt to
wish to ‘take a nap’ during the higher degrees of heat, or perhaps in
the afternoon anyway, so for the benefit of all we made the rule of
taking an hour or two of sleep or rest about this time every day. This
rule is, of course, not compulsory except insofar that no one may do
anything that might in any way disturb the peace of those wishing to
enjoy a restful hour. Hence the reason for your thinking you had
discovered a sort of deserted village.”
Time was passing notwithstanding this most interesting conversation, and
it seemed wise that I should be seeking shelter for the night, also
something to satisfy a very natural hunger. Explaining to my new found
acquaintances that I should need to get on and requesting permission to
return the next day so that I might accept their invitation to see the
home in all its details, Miss Bates exclaimed,
“Why go farther? Do you think that we have failed to provide a great
chamber or two for a chance visitor, or that there is not full and
plenty with which to refresh those who merit out entertainment? If you
will accept our hospitality, I am sure you will be most welcome during
your stay in these parts.”
Naturally, I was very glad to accept the invitation as cordially as it
was extended, including as it did an offer to send to the station for my
luggage.
As we talked my attention was attracted to the dainty white tablecloths,
glimpses of which could be seen as they were being spread on the tables
mentioned previously. These had been wheeled to pleasant parts of the
grounds and near to convenient cupboards skilfully concealed by the
trees and garden benches. From these cupboards bright faced young women
were taking plain, neat china, glassware, knives, forks and spoons and
busily arranging the tables for supper. I appreciated the bright mind
which had conceived these conveniences, but was not prepared to see the
food brought in little carts and distributed to the various tables.
There was full and plenty of everything, fresh, wholesome bread, fruit,
summer salads, golden butter, rich milk and delicious cake, everything
looking the more appetizing by being in this,—nature’s own dininghall,
decorated by her gifts in all their glorious beauty.
“That looks most inviting,” I remarked, adding a little mischievously,
“what are you going to do with the occasional tea drinker or coffee
‘fiend’? There seems provision for neither beverage, served either hot
or cold.”
“Those who wish either cold can have all they desire,” Mr. Andrews
answered, “for it is brought with the other food. For the convenience of
those preferring it hot, perhaps the easier way to explain our plan is
to take you to one of those hidden closets.” And we wended our way
thither.
“Here, you see,” he continued, “is a small iron disk to which an
electric wire is attached. Underneath is a good sized asbestos plate for
protection from the heated disk. Turning this little switch, in almost a
twinkling tea or coffee can be served steaming hot. By means of this
little apparatus also, we are able to heat sufficient water for
cleansing the dishes and other articles, which saves carrying back and
forth to the main storeroom everything except the food. It is deemed
economy to keep this in one place that better account may be kept of the
supply and less waste result than would be possible if the food were
distributed in individual iceboxes. The closets, though skilfully built,
are made strong in every way, so that we feel no danger in leaving our
material in them, besides there are some who take turns as watchmen, and
we feel safe in their care. Therefore everything is arranged
conveniently and safely.”
“There is no doubt of that,” I replied, “for you have certainly studied
how to get out of life the most and best, yet without the appearance of
laziness, making the most of nature’s gifts and resources and putting
them into use for the benefit of all.”
“In the language of the poet,” remarked Miss Bates, “we ‘Taste the joy
that springs from labor.’”
Taking our places at one of the tables, (there was no choice for all
looked equally tempting, the members of each group seeming to have
benignity stamped on their faces) my friends introduced me here and
there and the same cordial greeting was apparent in all. Bright,
cheerful conversation made the meal lively, newspaper topics were
discussed with equal zest by young and old, every one, apparently,
seeming abreast of the times. There was no portioning off of all the
young or all the old, but a happy mingling of both. For is it not so in
everything in life? Even as the older branches on the tree are decaying
and falling off, they can feel the new life blood and companionship of
the younger shoots pushing forth to take their places when they shall
have withered and fallen. Only the other day I had given me three red
roses on one stem. One was full blown to the degree of decay. The next
was a little deeper in shade, all its petals uncurled, but ready in a
little while to follow the other. The last was rich in its deep red
beauty, the outer petals open, but the center just unfolding. So it
seemed to me that this happy mingling of all ages was a most beautiful
element in this Utopian scheme.
The supper was one of the most enjoyable of my life, and is to this day
always a pleasant memory. After the meal, all seemed to take a share, so
far as in his or her strength lay, in putting things in order without
confusion, and those exempt for any cause strolled about in the lovely
evening air, or sat and chatted with their neighbors. And the glorious
sunset added beauty to the scene, fitly illustrating these exquisite
lines,—
“Touched by a light that hath no name
A glory never sung,
Aloft on sky and mountain wall
Are God’s great pictures hung.”
I wended my way here and there, feeling safe and happy in this haven of
rest, finding all with whom I talked very interesting.
As darkness crept on, the grounds were beautifully illuminated by
myriads of incandescent lights in various colored globes, shedding their
soft radiance upon the scene, making it almost fairylike in its beauty.
Inquiring the hour for retiring, I was informed that no limit was
placed, it being understood that each would use discretion as to proper
hours. They were after all located not very far from various attractions
and churches of different denominations, accessible by conveyances for
the older people and by an electric railway which I later discovered
came within easy reach of their grounds. They told me, however, that
though not meaning to appear selfish, it was found with such a
household, such a variety of people and approved amusements of all
kinds, there was little outside attraction for many of them. Of course
certain supplies had to be obtained and extra produce disposed of, and
for those not caring to make the necessary trip others were always glad
and willing to do their errands.
I was shown for the night to a dear little room. “Dear,” because a large
bedroom with canopied bed, imposing furniture and heavy draperies never
appeals to me so much as a simple, but daintily arranged chamber which
makes one just long to lie right down and go to sleep. This furniture
was white with a little sprig of green vine decorating it, the color
scheme of the room in every particular having been carried out in a way
at once refreshing and attractive.
In the act of drawing the shades at the windows the scene without
claimed my attention. The little hamlet a few miles away lay wrapped in
peaceful slumber. Against the unclouded sky the spires of the churches
were outlined distinctly, while the hundreds of electric lights appeared
like stars of dazzling brilliancy. Down the unseen tracks of the
railroad near by an electric car came speeding on its way. Moved by that
wonderful, invisible power, it seemed to have come and gone, in its
extreme rapidity, almost by magic, reappearing in the far distance like
a will-o’-the-wisp as now and then it was hidden from view by the tall
trees.
My sleep was that of the just as well as the tired, for on bidding my
friends good night I learned that I had walked much farther than it
seemed, having of course taken the longer route.
On awaking the next morning it was raining and though a walk in the rain
is by no means objectionable to me, it was pleasant to think of being
already at headquarters for the day, particularly when so many
interesting things were in store. After arranging my toilet I went out
on the little balcony leading from the room. From there I could enjoy
with renewed appreciation the grounds about the house, being surprised
at their vast extent, none too large, however, in view of the purpose of
the family. Everything looked bright and fresh from the rain as it
gently fell, the fountains jetting up in welcome greeting.
Thinking it must be time for breakfast I reentered the room and started
for the dining-room. Going through the hall I met a charming little
woman, who gave me a bright morning smile and invited me to go with her
to breakfast. She had reached beyond her three score, her hair was as
beautiful as spun silver, and her face bore the lines with which time
stamps the character of our life. Hers was only kindly and she seemed my
rose in its fullest bloom. Lightly putting my arm about her waist
together we wended our way downstairs. She was bright and interesting,
her inquiries being delicate, but to the point. She had seen me the
night before, though it happened that I had not met her. My remark on
the fact that it was raining brought out this answer,
“Yes, but we mind it not. We rejoice that our efforts are helped and
blessed by God’s own hand, for do not the berries grow and ripen from
the rain and sun, our vegetables increase in plenty and our cattle
thrive on the rich grass, and does not it all help us to help each other
in this our cooperative plan to help one another? We are grateful for
the rains, for the sunshine and for our many blessings.”
Somehow I must have had an intuitive feeling that this little lady was
none other than the kind spirited person who had laid the foundation for
this happy home, and fearing not to give offense, I frankly asked if
this were true.
“It is,” she answered. “But since we have gotten so nicely started my
husband has been taken from me.” The gentle eyes grew moist as she
continued, “I feel, however, that he has gone to that happier, brighter
home, and although I miss him in many ways, I look forward to the union
beyond and am making myself content and happy by trying to bring
sunshine into the lives of others who have lost those equally dear. To
me,
‘By his life alone,
Gracious and sweet, the better way was shown.’”
I breathed a prayer of gratitude that the Father above had put it into
the hearts of some, at least, to accept in such spirit their afflictions
and to seek thus to bear them by giving and getting hope and cheer.
By this time we had reached the dining-room and Mr. Andrews seeing us,
drew near. He introduced me to the lady, his aunt, Mrs. Chester, but I
think she and I both felt that a very friendly feeling had already
sprung up between us and, on my part, at least, I hoped it was cemented
by the more formal introduction.
“Well,” remarked Mr. Andrews, “you see the rain will prevent our eating
out of doors this morning, but we trust the meal inside will be equally
enjoyable to you for we are a little proud of both our dining-rooms.”
“I expect to find pleasure in seeing every side of the life here,” I
replied, “and am somewhat glad that it is possible to have the
opportunity to observe it under all conditions.”
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.