Let in the Sunlight.

White Ribbon, Volume 17, Issue 197, 17 November 1911, Page 15

Let in the Sunlight.

It matters little how much money is expended in building a house, or how much trouble is taken in its erection, it an never be a home in the truest sense • f the word unless there are plenty of windows, because it is sunlight which makes a room pleasant and cheerful, and which gives to it an air of comfort which it is impossible to gain without it. Who ever heard of a “ cosy corner '’ without a window in it ? or what would be thought of an architect who planned a building with no windows, or even one windowless room '{ Such a structure might be called a house, but assuredly it would not be a home. And homes are what we need. Hut what good, pray, are the windows if they are kept closed and heavily curtained with thick, dark draperies, through which it is hard for a suggestion of light or a stray sunbeam to flicker ? Wait; did I say that the architect builds no windowless houses ? I believe there are houses—very massive buildings of stone or brick—w*ith only now and then tiny wiudows which are placed very high in the walls. I trust that the readers of these lines need no such punishment. Unless we want to make t r aols of our houses, let us open our blinds and raise our curtains.

“ \es,” you say, “but it fades our carpets and our costly couches. Of course, it is more cheerful with the curtains thrown hack, but the sunshine fades everything terribly!” Not everything. The sunlight does not fade the pale, hollow cheek of the consumptive, it is the shadows that do that. Neither is the plump, round cheek of childhood faded by its kindly kiss. The sunlight does not fade the rich and luscious cluster of grapes on yonder vine. It is the huger of light which tints the ruddy cheek of the peach and the pear, and gives the wondrously rich hue to he clierry and the apple. No, there .re some things, you see, which the sunlight, doesn’t fade.

The other day I called upon a neighhour. a frail little woman, who looks as

if her hold on life was very slight. She came to the door with her baby in her arms, and welcomed me. Hut once inside, it was so very dark that 1 was almost unable to see at all. The only window in the room was a north one, and that was darkened by a dense curtain. Two or three rays of dim light struggled for entrance and dickered feebly across the window-sill. My first thought was to make my sfav very short and endure the dungeonlike gloom in silenCe ; hut the gloom was so oppressive that l could not, and begged my friend to raise the shade. She seemed rather surprised than otherwise at my request, hut I onlv wondered how she managed to live and work in the dark all day, or how either she or her sweet babe could ever develop the roses of health. Oh, better, a thousand times better, a faded carpet than faded cheeks; bettor faded draperies than lustreless eyes. Let us learn to live simpler ; to cultivate simpler tastes, not only in dressing and in eating and drinking, but in the furnishing and arrangement of our homes. Simplicity of living means longer and happier lives