As the race of competent, industrious mechanics is not yet extinct, whatever the croakers may say such were found to build the house, which was well closed in before winter.  The walls and roof were completed and the plastering dried while the windows could be left open without danger of freezing, a most important thing, because although mortar may be kept from freezing by artificial heat, the moisture it contains, unless expelled from the house, will greatly retard the “seasoning” of the frame and the walls of the building.  After it has all been blown out of the windows, if the house is kept warm and dry the fine wood-finishing will “keep its place” best if put up in winter rather than in summer.  For the most carefully seasoned and kiln-dried lumber will absorb moisture so rapidly in the hot, steaming days of June and in the damp dog-day weather that no joiner’s skill can prevent cracks from appearing when the dry furnace heat has drawn the moisture from its pores.

One year is a reasonable length of time for building a common dwelling-house.  Twelve months from the day the workmen appeared to dig the foundation trenches the last pile of builder’s rubbish was taken away and the new, clean, bright, naked, empty house stood ready for the first load of furniture.  If the social and domestic tastes of Jack and Jill have been even slightly indicated, it is unnecessary to say that this first load did not consist of the brightest and best products of the most fashionable manufacturers.  Aunt Melville had sent a few ornaments and two or three elegant trifles in the way of furniture, a chair or two in which no one could sit without danger of mutual broken limbs, and a table that, like many another frail beauty, might enjoy being supported but could never bear any heavier burden than a card-basket, and was liable to be upset by the vigorous use of dust-brush or broom.  “They will help to furnish your rooms,” said the generous aunt, “and will give a certain style that cannot be attained with furniture that is simply useful.”

[Illustration:  THE FIRST FLOOR OF THE HOUSE THAT JILL BUILT.]

The ornaments that were ornamental and nothing more Jill accepted gratefully.  The furniture that must be protected to preserve its beauty, and generally avoided lest it should be broken, she returned, begging her aunt to give it to some one having a larger house.

On one of those perfect days that are so rare, even in June, Bessie appeared in all the glory of the lilies.  To Jill’s surprise, her first remark after the customary effusive greeting was, “How lovely it is to have a home of your own.  I shouldn’t care if it was made of slabs and shaped like a wigwam.  Of course, this house is exquisite.  I knew it would be, but it is ten times as large as I should want.  It will be so much work to take care of it.”

“I don’t expect to take care of it alone.”

“I know you don’t, but I should want to take care of my own house, if I had one, every bit of it.  Oh, you needn’t look so amazed.  I know what I am saying.  I have learned to cook, and dust, and sweep, and kindle fires, and polish, silver, and—­and black stoves!”