If these pleasures that are _ends_ and in no sense _means_ are a legitimate part of life, they must be taken into consideration not only in adjusting the machinery of our own lives so as to have time for them, but also in adjusting the machinery of home-making so as to secure them for others. I know a woman who has four of the healthiest and happiest children in the country. She is also the fortunate possessor of horses and a carriage. If the day dawns bright and the woods seem to call for her, she has the horses harnessed, bundles the children into the carriage, puts a basket under the seat, and starts off down the street. On the way she picks up a congenial spirit or two, and stopping at the market fills her basket with bread and fruit and cooked meat or other kinds of food that can be bought ready for eating. Then, with no more ado than this, she is off for a whole day of “the joys of mere living” in the woods. This she is able to do because she has simplified the machinery of her home-making by excluding useless decorations from furnishings and clothing. Nor is it to be understood that she has thereby traded off the pleasures of beautiful home surroundings for the joys of frequent glimpses of nature. Her windows command broad views of lake and lawn, in the presence of which elaborate draperies would seem like impertinences, and her children have bright eyes and clear skins and well-developed figures, which plain clothing sets off better than ruffles and flounces. In passing, we must not fail to note that this woman has done something more than to simplify housekeeping. She has also simplified the machinery of picnics--a great art. We have not, all of us, horses and carriages, but we can get some kind of conveyance--an electric car, if nothing better--and we can pick up on the way to the picnic food which will taste just as good in the open air as that over which we frequently wear ourselves out before starting. It is interesting to see how things work themselves out in this world. We used to clean house in the spring. Although spring is violet time, and a season of enormous possibilities in the way of real living, yet this custom for many years worked little hardship, because most people lived reasonably near to nature all the time. Later, however, life became so artificial that we really needed occasional excursions into the country. Then, too, the kindergartens began to teach the children to _see_ and to enjoy nature. Then, just in the nick of time, just as we had encountered the need of and the incentive to trips into the country, the necessity for “spring cleaning” was taken away. We began to have hardwood or painted floors, which made it possible to do housecleaning a little at a time all the year around. Thus there is now no great piece of work left to be done in the spring, when we really ought to be in the woods.