[Illustration:  THE LIVING-ROOM IN THE C.W.  HARKNESS HOUSE AT MORRISTOWN, NEW JERSEY]

There should be a certain amount of order, because you cannot really rest in a disorderly place, but there should be none of the formality of the drawing-room.  Formality should be used as a sort of foundation on which the pleasant workaday business of the living-room is planned.  The living-room should always have a flavor of the main hobby of the family, whether it be books, or music, or sport, or what not.  If you live in the real country there should be nothing in the room too good for all moods and all weather—­no need to think of muddy boots or wet riding-clothes or the dogs that have run through the dripping fields.

I wonder if half the fathers and mothers in creation know just what it means later on to the boys and girls going out from their roof-tree to have the memory of such a living-room?

A living-room may be a simple place used for all the purposes of living, or it may be merely an official clearing-house for family moods, one of a dozen other living apartments.  The living-room in the modern bungalow, for instance, is often dining-room, library, hall, music-room, filling all the needs of the family, while in a large country or city house there may be the central family room, and ever so many little rooms that grow out of the overflow needs—­the writing-room, the tea room that is also sun and breakfast room, the music-room and the library.  In more elaborate houses there are also the great hall, the formal drawing-room and music-room, and the intimate boudoir.  To all these should be given a goodly measure of comfort.

Whether it be one or a dozen rooms, the spirit of it must be the same—­it must offer comfort, order, and beauty to be worth living in.

Just as when a large family is to be considered I believe in one big meeting-room and a number of smaller rooms for special purposes, so I believe that when a family is very small there should be one great living-room and no other day room.  Two young people who purpose to live in a small cottage or a bungalow will be wise to have this one big room that will serve for dining-room, living-room, and all.  The same house divided into a number of tiny rooms would suffocate them:  there would be no breathing-space.  In furnishing such a room it is well to beware of sets of things:  of six dining-room chairs, of the conventional dining-table, serving-table, and china closet.  I advocate the use of a long table—­four by seven feet is not too long—­and a number of good chairs that are alike in style, but not exactly alike.