Evening Star Newspaper, February 3, 1929, Page 84

et THE THE BIG NOISE Reverberations Are Heard in Unexpected Places s tarry Barr sat on one of the front ‘seats in the crowded hail of the Winton Women's Club, walting for Mrs. Chester Turle to end her talk, fonl:hnt he ht give his second violin group :‘n’: m“get home and to bed, he felt even worse than he looked. The room was far too hot. The hall was noted for its miserable ventilation, and never had the place been so crowded with women. They had not come to hear Larry play: Mrs. Chester Turle w: the attraction. Mrs. Chester Turle w: not only president of the club, but she had recently returned from a conven- tion, where the subject discussed was some plan or other for making the world better than it ever had been or ever could be. She was making her report. Mrs. Chester Turle had herself asked Larry Barr to play the two groups of violin pieces; she was, in fact. one of the very few in Winton who knew that Larry was a violinist, and she had her- self suggested the types of compositions he should play. She had said that it might be best for him to play one pop- ular classic selection, followed by twd bright little encore pieces, before she spoke, but that two merry little popular pieces would be better after she had spoken, with a third of the same sort, an encore was insisted upon. Mrs. Chester Turle was now talking and she was evidently enjoying the oc casion thoroughly. It seemed to Larry, with his head splitting, that she had been talking for hours, but that was be- cause he was in such misery. He should have been in bed, and he knew it, but remain for his second group he must and would, because so much depended on it. In the hall were all the women of Winton, and, if he expected to gather a class from among their children, he must make a good impression on this day. He meant to stay till the end if it killed him. He glanced at his wife Letty who was always his accompanis and he saw thtnh'. she, too, was feeling the heat, r thing. on the low platform Mrs. Chester Tuurle stood between two potted palms, the violet-and-nile banner of the club draped against the wall behind her as a background. To her right, behind 2 small table, sat the secretary of the club, and to her left sat Mrs. Breklaw, ready to lead the applause whenever a pause in Mrs. Chester Turle's words seemed to indicate that it was time to applaud. As she stood on the platform, Mrs. Chester Turle was a noteworthy example | of the efficient and handsome woman of |today. She was somewhat above the average height and was weil-formed, and she was unexcited and entirely self- possessed. She seemed to suggest that what she was saying was well worth hearing, not oxly because it was she who was saying it, but because the thoughts were_precious. “Never,” thought Larry, “have I heard so many platitudes in one talk. She thinks she’s saying something. She certainly considers herself the Big Noise of this town!” Chester Turle did consider herself something extremely important. She very evidently believed that to her audience her words were pearls of great price! “And I think we should all try to make. the world a better place to live in,” her voice continued. ‘“Nature has given us so much that is beautiful. And especially should we all try to make our own dear town—our beautiful little town of Winton—a better place to live in. We should all try—yes, try.” Her voice was getting on Larry's nerves. It had seemed rather appeal- ing, at first, but when she talked so long it became not a little like a' whine. “We who are so fortunate as to live in this beautiful town should feel that we could never do enough to make lives brighter and happier. And should not our charity begin at home? But let us not call it charity; let us call it help- fulpess—" Well, she probably had a right to maunder cn, Larry decided. They let her get away with this sort of murder every so often, no doubt, because she was the Big Noise in Winton. She had been president of the club,ever since its creation; indeed, she had created the club. It might be said, he sup- posed, that she was the club, just as it might be said that her husband was Winton. He had made the town out of vacant farms, laying out the streets, building and selling the houses, making the rules and regulations. Chet Turle was the whole Winton Realty Co., and the chairman for the day, her hands resting rather nervously in her lap, | THE LUXURY OF IMAGININ THAT HE WAS CASTING THE FLOWERS TO THE FLOOR IN A MAGNIFICENT BURST OF FURY. the Winton Realty Co. had actually put Winton on the map, making a town 1 There could be no doubt that Mrs, where there had been no town before. And making a fortune, too, it was said. “For does not our own happiness come from helping others?” Mrs. Ches- ter Turle was relentlessly asking. “And is it not true, dear friends, that actions speak louder than words? In our own little town—" LI I ARRY'S hands were beginning to tremble and he was burning. He hoped .she was about through, or he would not be able to play his final pieces. If he felt much worse, he would have to go home. He saw Mrs. Brek- law looking at him anxiously and knew she saw he was ill. He closed his eyes. “And so, dear friends,” Mrs. Chester ‘Turle was saying no that is the mes- sage I bring to you; that is the thought I want to leave with you. Let us all unite, as women, as members of this club we all love, as citizens of our beau- tiful town of Winton, to do what we can to help all those who need help, to brighten the lives of those whose lives need brightenjng, and to make this beautiful world still more beautiful. I thank you!"” ‘With this, Mrs. Chester Turle took her seat, a little to the rear, between the two palms. She seated herself with con- fidence that she had done well, and Mrs. Breklaw arose, clapping her hands, and all in the room applauded. Mrs. Chester Turle inclined her head and smiled in acknowledgment. Mrs. Breklaw came to the edge of the platform. She said a few words and then announced that Mr. Lawrence Barr would play a violin se- lection. He was able to play, he found, despite his dizziness, but he was glad that Mrs. Chester Turle had suggested something light; he could not have got through a difficult® thing, and he swayed as he bent to put his precions violin in its ease. He was given a brisk salvo of applause, but it was from an audience that was standing. His last note had hardly been played before the women were getting out of their seats, and although quit¢ a dozen stopped to tell him how much they had enjoyed his playing, it was while they were on their way to join the crowd that had massed around Mrs. Chester Turle. In the small lobby the air was better. He had left his hat and coat on a rack at the end of the lobby, but now. two kitchen tables had been set across the place to act as serving tables, and behind them three or four women were busy filling trays with cups of coffee and the sandwiches and little cakes. One of these, he noticed, was one of the women who had been standing in the door while he was playing. She was not one of the attractive women, for her face was long and thin and her look that of one who considered life a SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, By Ellis Parker Butler distinctly sour affair, but she was nearest Letty and Letty spoke to her. “My husband's hat and coat,” Letty sald. “They're on that rack, please. ‘Would you mind handing them to me?” The woman got them and lifted them high over the trays of coffee. Letty helped Larry into his coat. “Do have a cup of coffee before you go _home,” the woman urged. “You look sort of faint, sir.” “Yes, try to drink s cup, Larry,” Letty said. “It may be good for yo and he took a cup of the hot liquid and sipped it. “I—think I'll have to sit down & minute,” he sald, and looked for a chair. “I don't know what's the matter with me,” he laughed, as he sank upon the lobby bench. “I hope to heaven I'm not going to have anything.” The woman with the sour face drew one of the tables to one side and came from behind it. “Mrs. Gray, ma'm,” she said, “see that things go all right for a minute,” and she went to Larry. “Have you got a taxi waiting for you or anything? she asked. “You're not fit to walk home, that’s sure. Can you walk to the door now?”- ° He could walk to the door and he did, and the woman went with them, ready to lend an arm if he tottered, She stood on the small porch looking over the cars parked up and down the d. W{wm here now,” she said, and she hurried to where the most gorgeous limousine stood, its chauffeur in his seat. Her talk with him was brief, and she turned and waved her hand to Larry and Letty, bidding them to come. “This is Mrs. Turle’s car,” she said, when they reached it, “and Mike will @rive you home and no harm done. She won't be out for a half hour yet, nor care a bit. Get in, Mrs. Barr, and T'll give him a help if he 'peedu it. You know where to go, Mike? “Sure, I was there once. On Willow lane. I know,” Mike said, and Larry lay back ngllns}t‘ the luxurious cushions taken home. ‘ngn‘;a:vns put to bed! He cared little by that time what happened to him, for every muscle and every bone ached. He was a sick man. Letty felt ill, too, but she was still able to drag one foot after the other, and it was impossible for her to be sick when Larry was sick—who would look after the baby? Downstairs little Elsie May Vorse, who had been quite delighted to be trusted a whole afternoon with the baby, was not so eager to be in charge of a baby as she had been, The baby was yelling loudly. * ok K ¥ L!.'fl'Y dismissed Elsle May, took the child from the wicker go-cart, and it stopped its yells between breaths. From upstairs Larry was ”mnT “May I hnveh- drm:i‘?;m!;g called. “Letty, may I have a dri . “Yes, just a minute, Larry,” Letty called, but she did not walt to care for the br.oy. She could imagine how parched Larry's mouth must be; her own was so dry. She filled a glass and took it up to Larry. He raised him- self on one elbow, drank it all, and lay back with his ‘eg'u closed. “Thanks,” he said. : She was sure it was the grip; her own head and limbs were telling her it was the grip. She got the baby settled for the night, then undressed and climbed into bed. It was not un- til she was under the covers that she | remembered she had not locked either the front door or the back door, but she was too tired to get up again. She told herself that there were no thieves in Winton, and fell asleep, only to awake with a start every few minutes during the night, imagining she heard burglars downstairs. The ache in her head was compact and continuous. She imagined that she must not move her head suddenly, lest the upper part fall off, which—be- cause of some sort of strings tied to her eyeballs—would be very painful, but she had to move her arms and only trouble was that they. were also mare painful when she did move them. She was in a half-doze when she started up with a thought that the house was afire and that the firemen were breaking through the roof to save her from the flames that were already scorching her. Then she found that some one was knocking per- sistently on the door downstairs. Her first thought was that a police- man had found the door unlocked, but as her wits returned she saw it was broad daylight. The baby, bless her heart, still slept, and Letty was climbing out of bed when her early visitor called from below. l “Mrs. Barr?” she said questioningly, legs, because they were more painful | when she did not move them. The |S! FEBRUARY 3, 1929_PART T. HE WAS ABLE TO PLAY, HE FOUND, DESPITE HIS DIZ. ZINESS, BUT HE WAS GLAD THAT MRS. CHESTER TURLE HAD SUGGESTED SOMETHING LIGHT; HE.COULD NOT HAVE GOT THROUGH A DIFFICULT THING. evidently having ventured to try the door and having opened it far enough to put her head inside. ‘“Mrs. Barr?” “Yes! Coming! Letty called down to her, and the baby wakened. “It's Mrs. Simmons,” the voice from below called up. “I just ran in; I thought maybe you were sick.” “Just a minute!” Letty said, and, as she put her feet to the floor, s grasped the footboard of the bed. “Oh, Larry! I'm so sick!" she cried. “I'm 5o sick! I feel so bad!"” and she be- gan to cry like a child. “Get back into bed,” Larry said. “I must get up,” she sald, although she was already up. “Mrs. Barr! Are you sick?” came the voice of Mrs. Simmons again, and then, “If you're sick, don't get up,” and then a warning, “I'm coming up.” “Oh!” exclaimed Letty, and she drew her kimono around her . and clung to the foot of the bed. At the door, which was wide open, Mrs. Sim- mons rapped, but this was merely to observe the conventions, and she stood in the doorway herself the next moment. She was the sour-faced woman who had been behind the coffee’ table at the Winton Women's Club, and now she looked at Letty appraisingly. “I was afrald of it,” she sald. “I sald as much when I saw you yester- day—egrip! ~ Well, if you've got it, you've got it, and that’s all there is to it. Some are having it light and some ain't. You get back intc bed.” ‘The baby was beginning to cry, not angrily, but with the fretfulness of a morning baby not receiving the atten- tion it desires, and Letty turned toward “Never you mind the baby,” Mrs. Simmons said.. “I've had more than one, and it's a pity if I can’t 'tend to it. Have you had the doctor yet>" She was helping Letty into Bed and not over the footboard. “If you haven't had a doctor yet,” she sald as she leaned over to armange the covers, “I'll phone to Dr. Brown for you. He's the best. There's no sense «fooling with any but the best when you can get them, I say. does the child eat?” It was very simple food, Letty told her, and explained tl’f quantities. Mrs. immons took the baby and bore it away. “He'll not come much before 10,” she said at the door, meahing the doc- tor, “and I'll be up by and by and brush up things before he gets here. Would tea or coffee taste best to you?” “I think I'd rather have tea,” said Letty meekly. “And what will he have?” asked Mrs. Simmons. don’t want anything,” said Larry. “I think he'd rather have coffee, please,” Letty interpreted. “And it is so good of yuu,‘ lv&rs,*simmom." * “WHO told her we were sick?” Larry asked when their good Samari- tan had gone below. What | “Nobody, Larry,” Letty said. “She saw yesterday that you looked sick. She just came for that reason, I think. I'm so glad she came, Larry. I feel so miserable; I just ache all over.” But they were too sick to talk. Even talking hurt their aching heads, and they lay still with their eyes closed. They heard Mrs. Simmons moving about e | below, heard her telephone the doctor, heard her caring for the baby in the bathroom, and presently she came up frgm below again with a tray—toast and tea and coffee. And when that was disposed of she straightened the room, hanging garments in closet, set- ting things to rights generally, and talked. “You both got headaches, poor things, and I won't talk,” she said. Then she talked steadily and without interruption until the doctor came. She had a bitter tongue to match her sour face, and she must have been gathering ,g)u&!slnce the fir=® house in Winton was uilt. “And the Turbingtons; yes!” she ex- claimed. “You don't have to tell me anything about the Turbingtons. There was a woman named Lenty—-" She pulled the bed out from the wall and bathed Letty with alcohol. It was like & cooling zephyr from a shady glen, but her harsh voice rasped on. * K K K me!ER he had worn the disease some time before he was forced to bed, or whether the treatment or- dered by the genial, red-beatded physi- cian affected him more promptly, ll:{{y ‘was out of bed three days before . The first day he was wabbly on his legs, but the next day he was rather himself again. He was able to help Mrs. Simmons, more or less, and was particularly useful as a nurse-maid, but his greatest use was a listener. Let- ting his ears absorb what Mrs. Sim- mons had to say gave Letty a chance to sleep. The second day after he was out of | bed there was a rapping on the front | door and he answered it, with the baby |in his arms. The chauffeur of Mrs. | Chester Turle stood there, cap in hand, and held toward Larry a huge bouquet of garden flowers—brown and red and white and rose chrysanthemums. “With Mrs. Chester Turle's compli- ments, sir, and she hopes all are re- covering nicely. Good ‘afternoon, sir.” _Mrs. Simmons had come from the kitchen and she clasped her hands in ecstasy. “Ah! The lovely, lovely flowers!” she cried. “And Mrs. Turle sent them. Isn't that like her, now? ' She's a won- derful woman. Let me have them and I'll find a vase foe them.” Larry's face was red. If Mrs. Sim- | mons had not been there, he would have opened the door and thrown the ‘flowers into the street. Culls from the | Big Noise’s garden, not even hothouse flowers! He gave himself over to the luxury of imagining that he was cast- ing the flowers to the floor in a magnif- icent burst of fury. | & “Never you mind, I'll find a vase fo them,” he sald, and he did find a vase and carried it to Letty’s .room. She raised her head and uttered an ex- clamation of pleasure as she saw the flowers. “Oh, how lovely!” she cried. Tears came into her eyes. them? O, I do love flowers!" “Yes? not getting them,” he said. “For two cents I would have thrown them into the street. She ggts on my nerves, that woman!™ “Who, Larry?” “That Big Noise—that Mrs. Chester ‘Turle. Making the world better and sweeter and all that mush! It made me sick to listen to her. I know her kind—she'll talk and talk as long as she can find women to gawp at her, and, when it comes to doing anything, she let’s some Mrs. Simmons do it. And when we are all well and Mrs. Sim- mons has worked her hands and feet off day and night, she grabs a handful of flowers to throw on the dump and says, ‘Oh, dear me! Won't it be lovely! T'll send these to th: down-and-out Barrs and they'll be pleased!’” Two cents’ worth of second-hand flowers and she’ll probably make a two-hour next time she gets together “They're lovely flowers,” said Letty Let me"hold two or three in 3 vou'll write her a letter a mile long, telling her she brought joy into sad places. ‘And so let us all, dear friends’,” he said, mimicking Mrs. Che: ter Turle’s appealing whine, “‘try to make every one heppier and better'— and let Mrs. Simmons do the work. The Big Noise! She makes me tired!” Letty propped herself on her elbow. “Please let me have a couple of the flowers, Larry,” she begged. “And I thing I can take Baby now. Fix my | pillows behind: me, will you, please? | Aren’t they beautiful, the flowers? I do think chrysanthemums, coming so late, are the loveliest flowers! pect these are rare varietie: have rare varieties. Larry, I think I g:n get up tomorrow. I do feel so much | better.” ince the Big Noise sent her floral nk, I suppose,” he said. “All right; Join the kowtowing sisters, if you want to, I'll take the Simmonses.” * ok ok % Tl-m next morning Letty, as she had threatened, got up. She sat by the window with Mrs. Chester Turle’s flow- ers on the sill until Mrs. Simmons brought her lunch, but after lunch she declared that she was ever so much better. She sald she was quite able to take charge of things now, and she thanked Mrs. Simmons. “Larry, who sent | Well, you came mighty near | ; she would | “I don’t know how to thank you for all you've done,” she sald. “I don't know what we would have done without you. - “You've been an angel to us, that's sure,” Larry declared. “You've been better than an ;gl," Letty said. “You've bgen like & er. All the time you've spent here and all the work you've done, and taken care of us all so well. , We can never thank you. ‘We can't offer you anything, of course,” sald Larry, “but you can bet that, when we think of a woman who has really done good in this town, | we'll think of you. Letty, isn't there anything—" “Yes, I know just what Mrs. Sim- mons would love to have,” said Letty beaming. She went to the window and separated the Turle flowers ifito two equal parts, She thrust one part into Mrs. Simmons’ hands and the sour face softened. “Some of Mrs. Turle's flow- ers,” -Letty said; “that's what you'd like, isn't it, Mrs. Simmons! 1t was evident.enough that that was what she would like. She buried her face in the flowgrs, scenting their spicy odor, drawing a deep breath. “Not,” she said, “that I need or want thanks, Mrs. Barr. It has been a happy time for me, helping you what I could. It hes been an experience for me. I've never done much like this, helping folks that was sick—none at all, if you want | the truth of it. Mind my own' business and let others mind theirs has been my -| way. But, when I hegrd the beautiful | words Mrs. Turle spoke, the day your | husband played the violin, I was | ashamed of myself, Mrs. Barr. I felt |like a new creature when she was done talking. ‘Help others,’ she said. ‘Good | deeds are the most beautiful acts,’ she | said. ‘We who are so fortunate as to |live in this beautiful little town,’ she | said, ‘should feel that we can never do | enotigh to make lives brighter and hap- | pier.” And so I said to myself, ‘Sarah Simmons, be ashai of yourself,’ and over I came, knowing you looked so sick. So don’t thank me, if I've been of aid to you, Mrs. Barr—thank Mrs. Turle that spoke those beautiful thoughts.” “We do thank her,” said Letty; “don’t we, Larry?” For a moment Larry hesitated. . He bent to pick up one of the button chry- santhemums that had fallen to the floor. When he raised his head, his face was red, but he tucked the chry- santhemum into his buttonhole and grinned. “Yes, of course,” he said. “Why not?" Because, quite often, a Big Noise does reverberate in unexpected places and brihg about unexpected things. | (Copyright. 1920.) Arts of Log-House Builder Employed in Making Virginia Home BY GENE DAY. UT near Ash Grove, the estate in the vicinity of Tysons Cor- ners, Va., once owned and oc- cupied by a brother of Lord Fairfax, a remarkable resi- dence of logs has been built recently by Miss G. A. Besley. There are three other lodges and homes of logs in the latitude of of Washington, but of this curious quar- tet of comfortable and commodious habitations the new Besley house is by all odds the most unusual. It is con- structed in a new and original manner, something quite different from the log cabins in which Abraham Lincoln and other of our former Presidents once lived. Permanent log houses which are built as Summer homes or year-around residences along the Atiantic seaboard are made, for the most part, of cedar and spruce logs imporied from the Maine woods or from Canada. logs shipped in from Canada are free of all duty charges. However, if these selfsame logs are manufactured into lumber before being introduced into the United States they are subject to the customary import duty. Miss Besley, who owns an 80-acre farm speckled with plenty of pine trees, Raw | | smooth surfaces together as in the con- struction of'a double or treble floored bridge. She showed them how to roll ‘smps of insulating paper and to place them between logs before the spikes were driven home. A 9-inch spike was driven at 18-inch intervals throughout the length of each log in anchoring it permanently to the next lower log in the wall. This novel type of construc- tion, which resulted in the building of walls of solid pine from 6 to 7 inches ! | { decided that it was foolish to import | logs from the Northeast when there | were many pines ripe for the ax on the acres surrounding the site of her pro- | posed home. If you are familiar with| Virginia pines, you will understand that { this soft wood is subject to tacks and will not weather s torily unless fortified against invasion | of boring pests Then there arose the question of log- | notching so as to make fairly tight joints which could be chinked with cement, plaster, or plugged with strips | of quarter round. After careful con-| sideration of these various building per- lexities Miss Besley decided to deviate 'rom the beaten paths in log-house con- struction and to rely on originality to perfect and produce, a residence which would be attractive on the exterior, | comfortable within and armored ade- quately against the vicissitudes of wind and weather, heat and cold Miss Besley contracted with the own- er of a portable sawmill to move his equipment to her farm and to saw enough logs necessary for the home} which she was to build. Previously, she had hired expert axmen to fell the trees and haul the logs to the point where the mill was to be set up. The sawyer on Miss Besley's specification “slabbed” the logs on three sides so as to present uniform timbered surfaces. The bark was left intact on the fourth or external | face. The sawed surfaces of each log | were painted thoroughly by hand with |- creosote, one of the best know preserva- tives of soft wood such as pine. Instead of notching the logs for the usual method of construction, Miss Bes- ley ordered the man and boy whom she hired to bulld the house to spike the Owner’s 80-Acre Farm Produces Pine Material for Construction of Striking Type of House—PortaH: 1 to Estate—Floors Also Sawed on Farm—Creosote Guards Against Insects. thick, fostered excellent insulation and weather-worthin I of construction costly labor, but rather facilitated rapid building. The interior of the house was ceiled with wallboard which subsequent- ly was papered. This resulted in eco- nomical, durable and sightly construc- tion both inside and ouf. The two-story log house which Miss Besley now occupies and which is admired by the entire countryside is 28 by 30 feet in floor dimensions, is of modern design and consists of a large L-shaped living room, hall, dining room and kitchen on the ground floor and four bedchambers and a bathroom on the second floor. ‘The insullation of this novel home is about perfect,-the house being cool dur- ing the heat of Summer and warm dur- ing th: cold of Winter. The entire house is heated comfortably by a pipe- less furnace, the open design and large hall and stair well favoring the circu- lation of air throughout the structure. ‘The house is roofed with boards cut on the farm, which, in turn, are cov- ered with composition shingles. Cedar or chestnut shingles probably would have been more artistic on a home of logs of this description, but the com- ! position shingles ~lessened the fire gmrd—nn important consideration in the country, remote from the siren and organized protection of our modern fire- | Aghters. ‘The two workmen built the Besley home in exactly six weeks, the house being based on durable 8-inch concrete walls, with a _cement-floored basement underneath. The total cost of this at- tractive seven-room residence was less than standard frame construction. To build a house of similar size where frame construction was followed would cost probably 11> times as much as this comfortable home made of logs. m’fhe writer, visiting the Besley home ! recently, noticed the block and tackle | which "the wotkmen had used as a hoist for raising the heavy logs froi the ground to their various positions in the wall. The style of contruction facilitated the use of random lengths of logs, the upright joints being re- inforced with the insulating paper sim- llarly to the horizontal ones. ¥ ‘The floors of this house are made of white oak sawed on the farm. The floor boards are of random widths vary- ing from 3 to 18 inches in surface. After the floors were laid they were scrapped by hand, filled and varnished, and today are as fine as those in the residence of some Washington mil- lionatre, The doors and windows in this re- matkable residence are othodox, as the costs of simulating colonial construction did not warrant making them like the cumbersome, double-thickness, steel- bound doors and hickory dowelled win- dows of George Washington’s time. A fine fireplace of brick is a feature of the living room. The original house on the Besley farm, which was destroyed by fire some years ago, was in its way almost as bizarre a3 the cozy home of logs which M | Jogs built as a permanent replacement now is outstanding near historical Ash QGrove. It was built by a man who was wounded during the Civil War by a minie ball which plugged its way through the wall of the house in which | he was seated and embedded itself in his body, causing a critical injury. Many years later, when this soldier built a house on the present Besley farm, he made the dwelling bulletproof. His brother, who lived in that vicinity, owned a portable sawmill. There was an abundance of white, black and red oak available. wood trees were felled, logged and sawed to provide timber for the frame work and finishing of the new house. The walls were made of one layer of 2-inch plank in vertical position and a second coating of similar boards splked in place in horizontal position. ‘he house walls thus were 4 inches thick and were so tough that the or- dinary rifle bullet of those days could not penetrate them. These battle-age walls were weather- boarded as usual on the exterior ands :ere lathed and plastered inside the ouse. This old house was built for centuries of service and would still be standing were it not for accidental flames which razed it some years ago. The fury of the flames and the heat of the fire were 50 great that trees and follage within a considerable radius of the burning building were kule;i. el * ONE especially interesting feature of the modern lodge made of pine for the venerable home that was razed | by fire is its appearance of being framed directly into the large trunks of former chestnut trees, The horizontal logs are mortised into these. perperfdicular cor- ner posts. They are also framed in similar manner ‘into the window and door frames, all the outside trim that| is used being also made from chestnut. This gives the dwelling the finished ap- pearance of a standard frame house without detracting in any way from the | rustic effect produced by the use of logs | as building material. \ Perhaps, by this time, you are won-, derlnfnhow the pine and chestnut logs | used in the construction of this “origi- | nal” home were trcated in order to| fortify them against destruction by ob- noxious insects. The logs were allowed | to season for about 12 months after the native pine trees were felled. Then they were sawed to the desired shape and dimensions. Subsequently they were painted by hand with pure creosote in order to reinforce them against insect | attacks. Two thorough applications oll creosote were made ‘Ijxul ordinary paint 4 Enough of these hard-; V] brushes, the material plans to creosote the exterior of her in- teresting home once every seven or eight years. In this way she believes that she can control insect despoilers which otherwise might riddle the habitation with their borings and burrowings. The results of experimental tests made by forestry experts substantiate these prac- tices. * kK ok 1SS BESLEY stated thet she built her country lodg> cf logs because that style of construction oifers the best insulation against and cold, according to engineering carch. Ex- periments have demonsirated that a et = e being biushed solid wall of into the wood vigorously. Miss Besley | eight inches thick is a od in log form six to poorer conductor |of heat than either brick, tile, stone or monolithic concrete. The Jog house is the best insulated home whiclh can be con- ;lérlucled :g:erle the cracks u}d nievxc;é ween the logs are properly plugg and chinked. The Besleys, new home during the heat of Summer and the frigidity of Winter, report that {he house is the best insulated structure in which they have ever resided. They burn about one-third less coal than tiley would in a frame or brick house of similar size and design. A second dominant reason for build- ing the log house -was because the after occupying their home-grown trees could be utilized most economically end efficiently in that form. The cost of the new home would have been measurably larger if the logs had been sawed into lumber of standard dimensions and an ordinary frame dwelling bullt. Such a house | would have been devoid of much of the | charm and attractiveness of the little mansion of logs. The Besley home is steeped in the | romance of pioneering. If these United States foster any individual style of construction which might be appropriately termed “our national method of bullding.” it is the log house. Our forefathers, when they landed first on the Atlantic coast, began forthwith to fell and shape logs and to fashion them into primitive and humble homes. From that day until this log-house construction in some form or another has been one of the guiding stars of building in many and remote sections of this country. RESIDENCE OF LOGS NEAR ASH GROVE, VA.