We’re always viewing doors, you know; they face us everywhere we go; on doors we knock, at doors we wait, and if they’re handsome, smooth and straight, they strike us as a work of art, they’re soothing to the mind and heart. But if they’re warped and out of plumb, and cracked and cheap and on the bum, we think, “The owner doesn’t heed how much his dwelling runs to seed.” I size up people by their doors; not by the rugs upon their floors. There’s nothing looks so dad-blamed punk as some cheap door that’s warped and shrunk. The Curtis hardwood doors are great; they’re always true and fine and straight; their beauty gladdens every eye, and years don’t make that beauty fly. They’re built by experts, and each door is planned to sell a hundred more; each one’s an ad for all the rest, and every Curtis door’s the best. Oh, I could write a whole lot more, but some one’s rapping at the door. BUILDING A HOUSE I built a house, erect and square, its basement touched the ground; and all my neighbors gathered there, and said it should be round. “Square houses long are out of date,” remarked old Jabez Black, “and no one but a fossil skate would build him such a shack.” “I see your shingles are of wood,” said Johnsing, with a grin; “you ought to know they are no good--they should be made of tin. Your house is sure the bummest job a man could find in town; I’ve half a mind to raise a mob, and come and tear it down. The porch roof has too steep a drop, it makes a wretched show; the basement should be built on top, the garret down below.” “You surely must have lost your head,” exclaimed old Captain Bean, “to go and paint your mansion red, with trimmings of pea green. A person’s eyes it fairly slams; the man who sees that paint will think he has the James H. Jams, and he’ll be apt to faint. If you had made it pink and blue, it would have hit the spot; but you have chosen such a hue as makes the neighbors hot.” “I see your chimney is of brick,” said Colonel Sassafras; “and such a bungle makes me sick--it should be built of glass. Glass chimneys now are all the rage in Paris and in Rome, but you’re away behind the age, when you put up a home.” “Upon a pivot,” said Judge Ace, “it should be built, just so, then you could turn it round to face most all the winds that blow.” They all agreed that such a shack was never built before; it all was wrong and out of whack, from roof to cellar door; except the woodwork--that was grand, and beautiful and slick; they saw it had the CURTIS brand, and so they could not kick. THE GLADSOME SPIEL All Spring it rained to beat the band, and o’er the saturated land, the water stood in pools; old Pluvius, who runs the rain, it seemed, had water on the brain, and busted all the rules. The farmers had to sail in boats when they went forth to feed their shotes, their ostriches and cows, and when they went to sow their beans they had to go in submarines, they couldn’t use their plows.