In locating a house, its relation to the size of the farm, its productiveness and agricultural capabilities should be considered. In locating the site, two places should be carefully avoided: First, at the end of a long lane in the middle of the farm. It may be said that the buildings form the natural nucleus in and around which the work centers, and therefore they should be placed near the middle of the estate. But the work carried on in the fields forms but a small part of the farmer’s activities. He must ever, in these modern times, be in touch with the school, the church, the post office, the railway, the market, and his neighbors. When an infrequent call is made at the end of this long lane, the children appear like frightened deer as they seek shelter in the shrubbery or behind the corner of a building, and the more the inherited timidity and reserve, the wilder they appear.
The other location to be avoided is within a few feet of the highway. Such locations are only admissible in the city, where land sells by the square foot. What fortunes are sometimes spent in the city to secure some amplitude of space between the dusty, noisy street and the residence! What dignity and repose an ample, well kept house-yard gives to even a plain, modest house! The effect of the mistake of locating the house too close to the highway is often accentuated by locating the barns on the other side and immediately upon the highway, and in front of the house. The location of the house, as to the highway, should be governed, in part, by the size and productive power of the farm. If ample acres and means are available, then the grounds should be ample; if limited, the grounds should be made to correspond.
In moderate-sized holdings, a clear space of from 100 to 200 feet between the house and the highway, and width equal to or exceeding the length, will give room for a few shade trees and an ample grass plat. The site should be either suited to the house or the house to the site. Therefore, the character of the proposed house and the site should be considered at the same time. One location may be suited to a one-story, another to a two-story house. No location is suited to a story-and-a-half house.
It may be said that on most farms the house is already located, and has grouped around it plantations and barns. In many cases it would be inexpedient to change the site of the house, as this would necessitate many changes of outbuildings and other permanent improvements. But if a careful inspection is made of farmsteads, it will appear that many of the houses are in need of repairs and additions, and that the cost of making them would be but slightly increased if either the house or the outbuildings were removed to a more desirable site. In the great majority of cases, the old barns should be gathered together into one structure, or into two at most, and adapted to the needs of modern agriculture (as will be explained in a subsequent chapter). All changes presuppose well matured plans and long and careful study of problems which will have to be solved if the location of the house or barn is changed.
The scope, and particularly the cost, of the changes should be known approximately before the execution of the plan begins. “For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, saying, this man began to build and was not able to finish.” Far better live in the old house, with its inconveniences, and get the greatest possible happiness out of the ancient structure, than to build a new one and cover it with shining paints of many colors and a mortgage which sticks longer than the paints.
Some of these old farm houses embody many beautiful and reposeful characteristics, are well located, and need only slight modifications to make them fit the site as nicely as a bird fits its nest. If thought can be awakened as to the possibilities of these neglected homes and some information imparted as to their treatment, or, in other words, if the eyes and understanding can be trained to take in the fundamental principles of beauty, dignity, fitness, and repose, we shall soon see fewer architectural monstrosities. That there are not more is a wonder. What lad or lass has ever had the slightest instruction by teacher in rural or city school along the lines of fitness, beauty, and healthfulness of sites for country homes? The few youths who reach the institutions of higher learning are scarcely better off. Some of these are taught to see the beauties and wonders of nature through a microscope, and, in rare cases, one may be taught to observe the lines of symmetry and form as exhibited in a poor plaster cast of some mythological Roman warrior; but as for any instruction which leads directly to a broad understanding or keen appreciation of nature in her broader, happier, and grander aspects, it is painfully conspicuous by its absence. So, is it any wonder that the farmer is deficient in appreciation of the fitness and beauty of the tree-clad, gently rolling plateau for a home site, when the “liberally” educated fail to see the innumerable beauty-spots which cover the face of nature?
CHAPTER VII
PLANNING RURAL BUILDINGS
The farm house is not what is called, a “paying investment.” It is not a direct source of income; neither can the other rural buildings be said to produce a direct income. Generally speaking, the farm house can fulfil but four purposes if properly planned and well constructed: the house may serve to keep the family warm in cold weather, cool in hot weather, dry in wet weather, and to gratify a love for the beautiful. Since the farm house as a paying investment is usually a failure, if it does not supply the wants of the household and fulfil its object, it becomes a failure indeed. The first great mistake which the prosperous farmer usually makes is to invest too much money in expensive, hastily planned buildings. The house should be built to serve its inmates; too often the inmates become the servants of the house. A farmer’s wife cannot well afford to devote one room in the overcrowded house to the storage of expensive, useless upholstery and bric-a-brac, nor time to keep them presentable and in order.
The debt incurred for a part of the purchase price of the farm forbids the employment of help to keep in order this home museum of things useful and beautiful, and things useless and ugly. If plainness, durability, and natural beauty in parlor, sitting-room and chamber would only become fashionable, what a burden would be removed from the shoulders of housewives, both in country and city! The time is at hand when health and intelligence should count for more among American women than show and the possession of a miniature upholstery shop. The furnishings of the rooms should minister to the comfort of their owner, and not tend to make life burdensome.
Not infrequently farmers of energy and ability become possessed of more than a competence near the close of life. Having lived in somewhat restricted circumstances, they think to make the close of life more comfortable and luxurious. So, notwithstanding the fact that most of the children have left the paternal roof, they set about building a large house, tear down or remodel, and add to the outbuildings; and at the close of life they leave the possessions encumbered and a farm overloaded with buildings as an inheritance to a child unable, by reason of youth and inexperience, to secure a competence sufficient to live and keep up repairs.