WE now come to the Walls of the house, in which there is more variety than might be imagined.

Take, for example, our modern houses of the “villa” type. They are nothing but the merest shells, made of the flimsiest imaginable materials. Some years ago, while walking through a suburb where some very showy houses were being built, I amused myself by going over them and testing them. There was scarcely a room in which I could not thrust an ordinary walking-stick through the wall. When they were “finished” and “pointed,” the houses looked beautiful, but their heat in summer, cold in winter, and moisture in wet weather, can easily be imagined, especially as the sand with which the mortar was mixed had been procured from the banks of a tidal river.

There is not the least necessity for such buildings. It is absurd to run up such edifices as that, and then charge £120 per annum for rent. The whole system is as rotten as the houses, and there is nothing but prejudice and trade-unionism to prevent our houses being cool in summer, warm in winter, and dry in all weathers.

It is well known that air is practically a non-conductor of heat, and that therefore a layer of air between two very slight walls is just as warm as if the wall had been made of solid stone.