CHAPTER V.
FIRE AND WATER
ERHAPS the part of any room
which is most often taken out of, or
put beyond the decorative hands of
its owner, is the fireplace. And
yet, though it is one of the most
salient features in any English dwelling, it is,
nine cases out of ten, the most repulsively
ugly. When one thinks either of the imitation
marble mantelpiece, or its cotton velvet and of
false-lace-bedizened shelves, the artistic soul cannot
refrain from a shudder. The best which can be
hoped from an ordinary modern builder is that
he will put in harmless grates and mantelpieces,
and abstain from showy designs. The fireplace
in either bedroom or boudoir should not be too
large, nor yet small enough to give an air of
stinginess, out of proportion to everything else.
Here are two (Figs. 11 and 14). The design of 
Fig. 11.each is as simple as possible, of plainest lines, but
with no pretence of elaborate sham splendour. Fig.
11 is of course only suitable for a small unassuming
room, but if the tiles were old Dutch ones and
the rest of the bedroom ware quaint blue and
white Delft, an effect of individuality and
suitability would be at once attained. Such a
fireplace would look best
in a room with
wallpaper of warm neutral
tints of rather an
old-fashioned design, and
I should like a nice
straight brass fender
in front of it almost
as flat as a kitchen
fender with delightful
possibilities of sociable
toe-toasting about it.
Such a one I came
across lately that had been "picked up" in the
far east of London. It was about eighteen
inches high, of a most beautiful simple, flat, form
with a handsome twist or scroll dividing the design
into two parts. Although blackened to disguise
by age and neglect at the time of its purchase, it
shone when I saw it, with that peculiar brilliant and
yet softened sheen which you never get except in real old brass; a hue seldom if ever attained
in modern brazen work however beautiful the
design may be. This fender stood firmly—a great
and especial merit in fenders—on two large,
somewhat projecting, feet, and its cheerful reflections
gave an air of brightness to the room at once.
Fig. 12.
There must always be plenty of room for the fire, and the actual grate should of course be so set as to throw all the warmth into the room. Then, though it is rather a digression,—only I want to finish off the picture which rises up before me,—I would have a couple of chairs something like this (Fig. 12), and just such a table for a book or one's hair-brushes a little in front of these two chairs. And then what a gossip must needs ensue! Of course I would have a trivet on the fire, or before it. No bedroom can look really comfortable without a trivet and a kettle; a brass kettle for preference, as squat and fat and shining as it is possible to procure. There are charming kettles to be found, copied from Dutch designs.
Instead of the ordinary wide low mantelpiece
one sees in bedrooms, I am very fond of two
narrower shelves over such a fireplace as this.
They are perhaps best plain oak, divided and
supported by little turned pillars, and if the top
shelf has a ledge half way a few nice plates look
especially well. But there are such pretty designs
for mantelpieces now to be procured, that it would
be a waste of time to describe any particular style,
and most fireplaces are made on scientific
principles of ventilation. Nor is it, I hope, necessary
to reiterate the injunction about every part of
the decoration and detail of a room, whether
fixture or moveable, matching or suiting all the
rest. In some instances contrast is the most
harmonious arrangement one can arrive at, but
this should not be a matter lightly taken in
hand. A strong feeling is growing up in favour
of the old-fashioned open fireplaces lined with
tiles, and adapted to modern habits by a sort of
iron basket on low feet in the centre, for coals.
Excellent fires are made in this way, and I know
many instances where the prettiest possible effect
has been attained. In a country where wood is cheap and plentiful, the basket for coals may
be done away with and the fuel kept in its place
by sturdy "dogs," for which many charming hints
have been handed down to us by our grandfathers.
Over the modern fireplace, even in a bedroom,
a mirror is generally placed, but I would not
advise it unless the room chanced to be so dingy
that every speck of light must be procured by
any means. Still less would I have recourse to
the usual stereotyped gilt-framed bit of looking
glass. In such a private den as we are talking
about, all sorts of little eccentricities might be
permitted to the decorator. I have seen a
looking-glass with a flat, narrow frame, beyond which
projected a sort of outer frame also flat, wherein
were mounted a series of pretty little water-colour
sketches, and another done in the same way with
photographs—only these were much more difficult
to manage artistically, and needed to be mounted
with a back-ground of greyish paper. For a
thoroughly modern room, small oval mirrors are
pretty, mounted on a wide margin of velvet with
sundry diminutive brackets and knobs and hooks
for the safe bestowal of pet little odds and ends
of china and glass, with here and there a quaint
old miniature or brooch among them. In old, real
old rooms anything of this sort would, however,
be an impossibility, for the mantelshelf would probably be carried up far over the owner's head
who might think herself lucky if she could ever
reach, by standing on tip-toe, a candlestick off
Fig. 13.its narrow ledge. Our grandmothers seemed to
make it their practice to hang their less choice portraits in the space above the mantelpiece, and
to this spot seem generally to have been relegated
Fig. 14.
the likenesses of disagreeable or disreputable or to
say the least uninteresting members of the family; the successful belles and heroes occupying a more
prominent place downstairs. Fig. 14 shows a pretty
arrangement of picture, mirror and shelves for
china.
Before the subject of fire is laid aside, we must just touch upon candles and lamps. Fig. 13 is a simple and ordinary form of candlestick, which would be safe enough from risk of fire if these sheltering shades were made, as they often are, of tin, painted green, and then there would be no danger if it stood on a steady table, by the side of even the sleepiest student. But perhaps this design (Fig. 15) is the most uncommon, though it would not be safe to put so unprotected a light except in a perfectly safe draughtless place. However, there is also in this branch of decorative art a great variety of beautiful models to choose from. Antique lamps, copied from those exquisite shapes which seem to have been preserved for us in lava and ashes during all these centuries, with their scissors and pin and extinguisher, dangling from slender chains, lamps where modern invention for oil and wick meet and blend with chaste forms and lines borrowed from the old designers, and where the good of the eyesight is as much considered as the pleasure to the eye itself.
Of washing arrangements, it is not possible to
speak in any arbitrary fashion. Here is a modern French washing-stand (Fig. 16) made, however, to
close up, which is always an objectionable thing, in
my opinion, though it may often be a convenient one.
Let your basin invariably be as large as possible
and your jug of a convenient form, to hold and
pour from. Every basin-stand should be provided
Fig. 15.
with a smaller basin and jug and allow at the same
time, plenty of space and accommodation for
sponges and soap. If from dearth of attendance,
it is necessary to have a receptacle in the room, into
which the basin may be emptied occasionally
during the day, I would entreat that it should be
also of china, for the tin ones soon acquire an unpleasant smell even from soapsuds. But I detest
such contrivances, and they are absolutely
inadmissible on any other score except economy of service.
Fig. 16.
All bathing arrangements would be better in a separate room, but if this should be impossible, then they should be behind a screen. But indeed I prefer, wherever it is feasible, to contrive a
small closet for all the washing apparatus, and
to keep basin-stand, towel-horse, and bath in it.
It is sometimes difficult to hit exactly upon a
plan for a washing-stand for a very small room or
Fig. 17.corner, and a copy of this Chinese stand (Fig. 17)
for a basin and washing appliances, would look very
quaint and appropriate in such a situation. Only
real, coarse, old Indian, or Japanese china, would
go well with it, however, or it might be fitted with
one of those wooden lacquered bowls from Siam, 
Fig. 18.and a water-jar from
South America of fine
red clay, and of a most
artistic and delightful
form. There are
hundreds of such jars to
be bought at Madeira
for a shilling or two,
and they keep water
deliciously cool and
fresh. If a demand
arose for them they
would probably be
imported in large
quantities. All
washing-stands are the better
for a piece of Indian
matting hung at the
back, for much necessary
flirting and flipping of
water goes on at such
places, which stains and
discolours the wall; but
then this matting must
constantly be renewed,
for nothing can be more
forlorn to the eye or
unpleasing to the sense of smell, than damp straw is capable of becoming
in course of time.
For the corner of a boy's bedroom, or for the washing apparatus of that very convenient little cupboard or closet or corner which I always struggle to institute down-stairs, close to where the gentlemen of the family hang their hats and coats, this (Fig. 18) is a very good design. It is simple in form and steady in build, and a long towel over a roller just behind it will be found useful. The towel need not be so coarse as the kitchen "round" one, from which it is copied; and above all things do not have it hard. It is a needless addition to the unavoidable miseries of life to be obliged to dry your hands in a hurry on a new huckaback towel.
Many charming basin-stands have I seen extemporised out of even a shelf in a corner; but such contrivances are perhaps too much of makeshifts to entitle them to mention here, only one hint would I give. Take care that your washing-stand is sufficiently low to enable you to use it with comfort. I once knew a very splendid and elaborate basin-stand, extending over the whole side of a dressing-room, which could only be approached by mounting three long low steps. I always felt thankful when my ablutions had ended and left my neck still unbroken.