have to be all gone over when I came back in the
autumn, anyway, and why should I give myself double trouble?' I asked 
her if she didn't even roll anything up and put it away in closets, and 
she said: 'Oh, you mean that old American horror of getting ready to go 
away. I used to go through all that at home, too, but I shouldn't dream 
of it here. In the first place, there are no closets in the house, and I 
couldn't put anything away if I wanted to. And really nothing happens. 
I scatter some Persian powder along the edges of things, and under the 
lower shelves, and in the dim corners, and I pull down the shades. 
When I come back in the fall I have the powder swept out, and the 
shades pulled up, and begin living again. Suppose a little dust has got 
in, and the moths have nibbled a little here and there? The whole 
damage would not amount to half the cost of putting everything away 
and taking everything out, not to speak of the weeks of discomfort, and 
the wear and tear of spirit. No, thank goodness--I left American 
housekeeping in America.' I asked her: 'But if you went back?' and she 
gave a sigh, and said: 
"'I suppose I should go back to that, along with all the rest. Everybody 
does it there.' So you see," my friend concluded, "it's in the air, rather 
than the blood." 
"Then your famous specific is that our eternal-womanly should go and 
live in Paris?" 
"Oh, dear, not" said my friend. "Nothing so drastic as all that. Merely 
the extinction of household property." 
"I see what you mean," I said. "But--what do you mean?" 
"Simply that hired houses, such as most of us live in, shall all be 
furnished houses, and that the landlord shall own every stick in them, 
and every appliance down to the last spoon and ultimate towel. There 
must be no compromise, by which the tenant agrees to provide his own 
linen and silver; that would neutralize the effect I intend by the 
expropriation of the personal proprietor, if that says what I mean. It 
must be in the lease, with severe penalties against the tenant in case of 
violation, that the landlord into furnish everything in perfect order 
when the tenant comes in, and is to put everything in perfect order 
when the tenant goes out, and the tenant is not to touch anything, to 
clean it, or dust it, or roll it up in moth-balls and put it away in chests. 
All is to be so sacredly and inalienably the property of the landlord that 
it shall constitute a kind of trespass if the tenant attempts to close the
house for the summer or to open it for the winter in the usual way that 
houses are now closed and opened. Otherwise my scheme would be 
measurably vitiated." 
"I see what you mean," I murmured. "Well?" 
"Some years ago," my friend went on, "when we came home from 
Europe, we left our furniture in storage for a time, while we rather 
drifted about, and did not settle anywhere in particular. During that 
interval my wife opened and closed five furnished houses in two 
years." 
"And she has lived to tell the tale?" 
"She has lived to tell it a great many times. She can hardly be kept from 
telling it yet. But it is my belief that, although she brought to the work 
all the anguish of a quickened conscience, under the influence of the 
American conditions she had returned to, she suffered far less in her 
encounters with either of those furnished houses than she now does 
with our own furniture when she shuts up our house in the summer, and 
opens it for the winter. But if there had been a clause in the lease, as 
there should have been, forbidding her to put those houses in order 
when she left them, life would have been simply a rapture. Why, in 
Europe custom almost supplies the place of statute in such cases, and 
you come and go so lightly in and out of furnished houses that you do 
not mind taking them for a month, or a few weeks. We are very far 
behind in this matter, but I have no doubt that if we once came to do it 
on any extended scale we should do it, as we do everything else we 
attempt, more perfectly than any other people in the world. You see 
what I mean?" 
"I am not sure that I do. But go on." 
"I would invert the whole Henry George principle, and I would tax 
personal property of the household kind so heavily that it would 
necessarily pass out of private    
    
		
	
	
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