There remains yet to be found anything more airily, chastely dainty than the all-white bed with its plain or fringed Marseilles spread and its ruffled pillows. Though drapery has a picturesque effect, it interferes to a certain extent with the free circulation of air, and affords a lurking place for our insidious enemy—the microbe. If used at all, it should only be in a large, well-ventilated room, and sparingly, for a fussy, overloaded bed looks anything but restful. If considerable color has already been introduced into the room, the bed drapery, cover, and valance should be of some thin white washable material—dimity, Swiss, and the like. But with plain papers, flowered cretonne, chintz, etc., are appropriate. The canopy top is covered with the material, stretched smooth, and either plain or plaited, and the drapery gathered about the back, sides, and front of this, from which it hangs in soft folds to within two or three inches of the floor. It should be simply tied back. The canopy projects not more than half a yard beyond the head of the bed, and may be either oblong or semicircular. Very thin white material is used over a color. Whatever the material, it must, of course, be washable and kept immaculate. The newest bed, all enameled and with a bent bar of iron at head and foot, lends itself to a pretty style of drapery, which is simply a plain, fitted white slip-over case for head and foot, finished with a valance of the same depth as that of the counterpane, which leaves no metal visible anywhere about the bed. Pretty Marseilles spreads may be had for $3; cheaper ones in honeycomb follow the same designs. The white spread, with a colored thread introduced, may answer for the maid's room—never for the mistress's.
SIMPLICITY
When two persons occupy a room, twin beds furnished exactly alike are preferable to the double bed. An exclusively man's room demands somewhat different treatment, though the general principles of furnishing apply to all bedrooms. A man abhors drapery, and usually prefers an ascetic simplicity to what he is pleased to term "flub-dubs." His notions of art are liable to express themselves in pipes, steins, and other masculine bric-a-brac; but whatever his wills and wonts on the furnishing question, his room must show care and attention.
The rule of elimination is a good one to follow in bedroom pictures; no "rogue's gallery" of photographs, no useless, meaningless, and trivial pictures, but just a madonna or two, perhaps a photographic copy of some old master, with a favorite illuminated quotation—something to help and quiet and inspire.
Tables, dresser, and chiffonier should have each its spotless cover of hemstitched or scalloped linen, or ruffled lawn or Swiss—anything but towels. They will answer, of course, but we want a little more than just answering.
CARE OF BEDROOM AND BED
Much of the refinement of the bedroom depends upon its daily care. This begins with its airing the first thing in the morning. The bed is stripped of its coverings, which are spread over two chairs placed before the open window; the mattress is half turned over, and night clothes and pillows are placed near the window. The slops are then emptied, bowl and all toilet articles washed in hot water and dried, pitcher emptied and refilled with fresh water, and soiled towels replaced by clean ones. Soiled towels must never be used to clean the crockery. Cleaning cloths for bedroom use should be kept for that purpose alone. Once a week slop receptacles must be scalded with sal soda water and stood in the sun. After an hour the windows may be closed and the bed made. The first thing is to turn the mattress—end for end one day, side for side the next—and then comes the pad, and after it the sheets. The lower one is put on right side up, drawn tight, and tucked in smoothly all around; the upper should be wrong side up, drawn well up to the head, and tucked in at the bottom, and the blankets brought up to within half a yard of the head, with the open end at the top. When all is straight and even, the upper sheet is turned back smoothly over the blankets and both are tucked snugly in. The counterpane, which was folded and laid aside during the night, then goes on, and is brought down evenly over the foot and sides of the bed, the bedroll or day pillows are added, and the bed is itself again. On Saturday the bottom sheet is replaced by the top sheet, which, in turn, is replaced by a clean one, and the pillowcases are changed. The spread usually needs changing about once a month. The night pillows are now beaten and put away, and night clothes are hung in the closet. Other articles are put in their places, the dresser top is brushed off and its various contents properly arranged, litter is taken up with dustpan and brush, or carpet-sweeper, and the room is dusted. Opened windows at night are a foregone conclusion.
VERMIN AND THEIR EXTERMINATION
Though it seems indelicate to suggest the possibility of a bug in a well-kept, charming chamber, even the best housekeeping is not always proof against feeling "things at night." Metal beds are rather inhospitable to bugs, and if carefully examined, with the mattress, once a week, there is small danger of their getting a foothold. If traces are discovered, hunt out the bugs and exterminate them if possible, and sprinkle bed and mattress with a good, reliable insect powder; or spray with gasolene, or wood alcohol and corrosive sublimate, and keep the room shut up for a few hours. Baseboard and moldings should also be treated in this way. If, after repeating several times, this proves ineffectual, smoke out the room with sulphur, first removing all silver and brass articles and winding those which cannot be moved with cloth. Then proceed according to directions for fumigating the closet, using a pound of sulphur for a room of average size. If the room has become badly infested, it will be best to tear off the wall and ceiling paper, and fill all cracks and crevices with plaster of Paris. Such shreds of self-respect as these terrors by night may possess cannot long survive such treatment, and they will soon depart to that country from whose bourne no bug returns.