which in the eyes of good and thoughtful persons
among themselves are not open to censure. The
truth is, that in families of even less than average
respectability a check on immorality is supplied
by the nature of the case. There is the restraint
of publicity, and by this, in the absence of higher
principle, many a one is kept out of mischief.
We need not over-estimate the hurts of
overcrowded cottages—preventable in most cases—
for they are numerous enough. Take this
instance of a dozen cottages, so slight and ill put
together that a disturbance at one end of the
Row is audible at the other. More than a
hundred people crowded under such a roof; what
common and every-day trials they suffer! The
unavoidable contact with disagreeable neighbours,
the uproar and cries of children, the
occasional domestic difference, not always
confined to words; the smoke of Number Eight's
fire coming down Number Seven's chimney,
and compelling open doors and windows in
mid-winter; the pangs that cannot be borne
privately; the offences to smell and sight as
well as to the ear; for drainage and decency
have not yet put to the rout, slovens and their
unclean progeny. Well may tenants of such a
Row, who sustain under the constant plagues
and trials of their homes, the character of being
good neighbours, and whose lives are generally
blameless, be respected for their unobtrusive
worth.

But Grumbleton can boast its "model cottages
for the poor," which are, indeed, very pretty to
look at. Excursionists in summer-time will
drive across the green to admire them, and buy
photographs of their outside. Our models
consist of a number of cottages, single, double,
&c.; some have the bedrooms on the ground
floor, but this is exceptional. They are
substantial buildings, and in every way a great
improvement upon Pennsylvania-row. Tiie
roofs run up to a high angle, and have courses
of variegated tiles. Each cottage is trellised
on the sunny side for flowers, and the front of
the house gets the best of the sun. There is
also a little space for flower-gardens, and a plot
either adjacent or at no inconvenient distance
for potatoes and potherbs. The windows are
neatly glazed in small diamond panes, which, when
broken, can be replaced for twopence each; and
the outbuildings are not so near as to be injurious
to health. These model cottages look, in truth,
excellent. But, as to the ground-floor cottages,
however efficiently you drain and lay a
concrete substratum, they cannot be recommended.
They are not likely to become common in this
country, although here and there one may suit
the purpose of an elderly couple without family.
The ornamental pitch of the roof also supplies
the tenant with a standing grievance. It is one
of the prejudices of the rural poor that they
should possess a four-post bedstead with
curtains. But in all our models the dip of the
roof obliges them to dispense with the
traditional four-poster, and content themselves with
French bedsteads. This they dislike very much,
for they cannot fancy either sleeping on them
or dying in them, with anything like comfort.
By building the walls a couple of feet or so higher,
at no great expense, the peasant might retain his
choice between French and English for what is to
him the most solemn piece of his house furniture.

Down stairs, instead of the old-fashioned
fireplace, with boiler to hold a couple of gallons,
and oven right and left, there is a cast-iron
range—a patent of somebody's. It is difficult to
get the fire lighted in it, but when the cooks of
Grumbleton are accustomed to the range, they
can manage with it tolerably well. Meat cannot
be roasted in any of our models, though it may
be baked or boiled. Chops and steaks can be
cooked well, but the labourer doesn't fancy the
look of them as he does the bit of roast meat on
a holiday, and so long as roast beef has charms
for him, and he can pay for it, why should he be
obliged to bake?

The locks on the doors frequently get out of
order, and when they do, they are beyond the
skill of the village blacksmith to set right, while
a common latch seldom requires repair, and can
be mended by anybody. There is an elaborate
model ventilating apparatus, but that troubles
nobody, for nobody has used it since the first
half-hour of curiosity was satisfied.

The rent of the models secures to the owner
a remunerative outlay, but nothing like that
which Pennsylvania-row pays. And Pennsylvania-row
is less lucrative property than half a
dozen filthy hovels which are the disgrace of
the parish, and harbour the scum of the
neighbourhood. They are of mud and wood, and
are thatched, and are insured nevertheless—
more, one would suppose, in the hope, than
in the dread, of fire. They consist each of
two rooms and a coal-hole, and have as
numerous a tenantry as any of those other cottages
which have the desirable number of three
bedrooms up-stairs. They are damp, dirty, and
full of vermin. I have seen slugs crawling up
the bedroom wall, while a woman was dying
of consumption in one of the three or four
miserable beds crowding the apartment.
Notwithstanding such wretchedness, if there is a
dance in Grumbleton on a winter night, it is in
one of these hovels, by the light of a blazing fire
and a couple of tallow dips in cracked bottles:
the fiddler sitting on the table, and lumbering
boys and girls bouncing about to his scraping,
while the old crones look on and admire.

Can anything be done, not to lessen the happiness,
but to decrease the discomforts, of such
people? Indirectly, improvement finds its way
into hovels, but nothing short of pulling them
down can do them justice. The example set by
the better sort of poor in keeping their cottages
as nice as their means permit, does more good
than is commonly supposed.

A site where spring water can be easily
obtained is not always to be had, but its advantage
is obvious. Each cottage, whether built singly
or in pairs, should have its plot of garden
ground. Twenty perches is a convenient size.
It can be well cultivated when the day's work
is done, without any strong inducement to work