The sources from which water may be obtained are various. Often enough water of the best quality may be procured by driven, dug, or artesian wells; but, whenever this course is adopted, the wells should be located far enough away from the village, or on land sufficiently high, to make it impossible that there shall be any fouling of the water-bearing strata by the filtration from barn-yards, privy-vaults, or cesspools. Generally, water so secured will have to be raised to an elevated reservoir by some mechanical force. If the demand is to be a large one, and if the community can afford the cost, the most reliable plan will be to use steam-power for pumping; but in smaller places, and where economy is a great object, wind-power may serve an excellent purpose.
If a stream of pure water is available at a sufficient height, it may be led directly to the reservoir, or its current may be used to drive a water-wheel sufficient to do the pumping. In a majority of cases there will be found at no great distance a stream capable of supplying the water needed throughout the dryest season of the year, but not entirely free from organic impurities. In such cases it is often feasible, by excavating a filtering sump or pump-well at a little distance from the side of the stream, and at a sufficient depth below the level of its bed to secure a supply tolerably purified by filtration through the intervening earth. The distance at which this sump should be placed from the bed of the stream will depend on the character of the soil. The more porous this is, the greater should the distance be. This question as to the source from which the water is to be taken is one which, more than any other, calls for experienced judgment.
Frequently the conformation of the surrounding country is such that, even where there is no constant stream, it is possible by the construction of dams to pond an amount of water, to be furnished by surface washing, sufficient to supply the demands of the longest drought. In this case, as in all others where reservoirs are used, it is important to have a good depth of water, and not to allow, even toward the edges, any considerable shallow area. So far as possible, the depth should be everywhere great enough to prevent vegetation, and in all the shallower parts the surface soil should be entirely removed. As a rule, there should be a depth of at least fifteen feet of water, except near the very edges of the pond, and as much more than this as circumstances will allow.
The distribution of water for private use is a simple question of construction; but, as a matter of taste, too vehement a protest cannot be entered against the common misconception as to what is desirable in the way of public fountains. An instance in point is furnished by the public drinking-fountain in Newport. Some years ago there stood at the foot of the Parade a grand old stone bowl, hewn out of a solid block of granite, and filled by a pipe leading from a copious spring. This was a good, sensible, substantial drinking-trough, perfectly adapted to its use, unpretending and handsome. Later, a public-spirited gentleman, desiring to leave a monument of his regard for the city, gave a considerable sum to be used in providing a suitable drinking-fountain at this point. Those who had the control of the fund lacked either the good taste or the courage to refuse to expend it. The result is that this granite horse-basin—one of the best of its sort—has been removed to an obscure position; and there has been erected in its place a wretched cast-iron combination of bad architecture and bad statuary, such as form a conspicuous defacement of the public squares in Philadelphia, where they serve the double purpose of furnishing water to the people, and advertising a cheap clothing establishment. The one compensation for the violation of good taste inseparable from these constructions is to be found in the fact that they must, sooner or later, lead the public to realize the absolute unfitness of cast iron for monumental and decorative uses. With the artistic influences which are now so active in the instruction of the American people, it is not perhaps unreasonable to look forward to the day when all of these piles of pot-metal shall be relegated to the scrap-heap, and when less offensive fountains shall take their place. We may even hope to see the iron statue and its stove-like support which supplies water to the horses of Newport condemned to the foundry, and its solid old predecessor restored to the position which it ornamented for so many years.
A wide margin may be allowed for the exercise of taste in the arrangement of village fountains; and where private munificence enables the expenditure of a considerable sum, a good amount of exterior decoration may be admissible: but it should always be borne in mind that so much of the outlay as is needed for the purpose should go to secure a good artistic design. Especially should the use of cast iron be avoided, as being from every point of view, and under all circumstances, whether in the shape of cast-iron dogs or deer, or attempts at the divine human form, absolutely and entirely inadmissible for artistic uses. Better a dug-out log horse-trough, overflowing through a notch in its side, as an ornament to the best-kept village green, than the most elaborate pitcher-spilling nymph that was ever cast in an iron-foundry. So far as the mere construction work of public drinking-fountains and horse-troughs is concerned, not much need be said except in connection with the overflow. In cold climates, there is apt to be from all such structures a spilling of water which covers the ground for some distance with ice. This may be avoided by carrying the overflow by a vertical pipe descending through the body of the water by some well-protected channel directly into a drain in the ground, at a depth beyond the direct action of frosts. If the stream is constant, this depth need be nothing like that to which frost penetrates into the soil,—for the constant movement of the water will prevent its freezing, even if covered only a foot deep, though to something more than this depth it will be desirable to have the metal pipe enclosed in a larger pipe of earthenware, giving a space of enclosed air.
Where there is no public supply of water, it is better in most cases (considering the nearness of wells in villages to cesspools and privy-vaults), to depend entirely upon cisterns. In our climate, where rain is abundant during a considerable portion of the year, the water falling upon the roof of any house, if properly collected and stored, is ample for the whole supply of the family which that roof shelters. This water as it falls is ordinarily free from any impurity that can affect its taste, and from every source of serious fouling; though, after a long-continued drought, it is well to divert and discharge upon the surface of the ground the first ten minutes' flow of a shower, so that the impurities of the air and the dust of the roof may first be removed. After this first dash, lead to the cistern all that follows. Even with this precaution, the water will be more agreeable for use if filtered. There are numerous systems for making filters in cisterns, but no other is so simple nor so durable and satisfactory as the separation of that part of the cistern from which the suction-pipe leads by a wall of brick and cement. It is simply necessary to build a wall of brick set on edge (two and a half inches thick), so as to include about one-quarter of the area of the bottom, sloping it back so as to terminate against the side of the cistern at a height of from four to six feet. This wall should be so well cemented at its joints that water can only pass through the material of brick, and for strength its form should be slightly bulging. A wall of this sort, measuring say six feet at its base, and rising to a height of six feet at its highest point, will transmit an amount of water sufficient to supply the demand of the most constant pumping that any domestic use can require.
SQUARES AND PUBLIC SPACES.
As a rule, the open spaces in a country village are subject to no other criticism than that of neglect; but the exceptions are not rare where an attempt at improvement has resulted in a sort of cemetery look that gives any thing but a cheerful, pleasure-ground aspect.
There is not much danger that persons who are enthusiastic for the improvement of the town in which they live will err on the side of too great simplicity. The public squares and parks of large and wealthy cities are regulated and maintained at great cost and under skilful and artistic management; and they cannot fail to strike country visitors as being in all ways desirable. So indeed they are. They are a chief element of the city's beauty, and, from an æsthetic point of view, their influence is the best to which its people are subjected. But their beauty and their æsthetic influence are both the result of a well-directed expenditure of large sums of money. It is quite natural that an enriched manufacturer or merchant, proud of his native village, should be ambitious to perpetuate the memory of his benefaction by providing for some corresponding decoration of its public green, and that he should attempt to reproduce there, on the smaller scale proportionate to the circumstances, the sort of magnificence that he has seen in the city park. If left to his own sweet will,—as he often is if he is willing to spend money for the public benefit,—he will, unless a rich man of the rarer sort, succeed only in producing a conspicuous imitation.