Labour Making.--A House-Hunting Experience. "It has fallen to my lot of late to inspect quite a large number of furnished houses and flats, and although my peregrinations have been limited to dwellings in what are known as 'good situations,' at fairly high rents, I have found such dirt and disorder as surely should only be excused by dire poverty. "As a general rule the sitting-rooms were more or less clean, but in few cases did bathrooms and lavatories, kitchen and servants' premises fulfil the pleasant anticipations induced by the sight of the drawing-room. "Stained and blackened walls, dirty-looking baths, fusty sinks, make one long for 'seven maids with seven mops,' and even with their help I, like the carpenter, am doubtful of the success of their labours. "Three, at all events, of the flats which I visited were so furnished that it was impossible to keep them clean, while several others might have been properly kept, given the services of a housemaid determined to clean in spite of every obstacle. "Very naturally, however, there are few such treasures to be met with, and I cannot but feel that it would be sad to waste them upon mistresses with so little idea of domestic sanitation as must have been the ladies who inhabited these flats. "Only one of the flats and two of the houses on the long lists submitted to me did I find really well arranged and well kept. This state of affairs may be explained to some small extent by the fact that people who take a pride in their houses or who have just had them done up do not let them. "Still, although a house may be shabby it still may be clean and arranged in such a way as to enable the servants to perform their duties with good results and no unnecessary trouble. Now, let me describe to you one flat which I regard as an example of everything which a dwelling in a dirty town should not be. "It was an apartment consisting of three sitting-rooms, four bedrooms, bath, pantry, and kitchen. The long passage-hall of good width was very dark, partly because its four large windows had been so treated that hardly any light penetrated through them, and partly because the walls were papered dark green. As I progressed down this dismal tunnel I caught my foot in some obstruction and fell against a large piece of furniture. The servant then turned on the electric light and I discovered that the floor was covered with felt and by no less than twelve rugs, in a large hole in one of which I had caught my foot. By this time I had quite decided that nothing would induce me to take such a flat; but, like Barry Pain's Eliza, my love of looking over other people's houses is so great that I continued my tour of inspection. "The dining-room was crammed with large and handsome pieces of furniture, so large and so many that nothing less clever than a pantomime contortionist could have waited at table when the diners had taken their places.