CLOSETS

If woman's rights would only usurp one more of what have hitherto been
almost exclusively man's rights--the profession of architecture--she
would in truth become the architect, not only of her own fortune, but
of the fortunes of a suffering sisterhood, whose great plaint is, "So
many things and no place to put them!" For who ever knew a mere man,
architect and artist of the beautiful though he were, who had even the
beginning of a realization of the absolute necessity for closets--large
ones, light ones, and plenty of them? In his special castle, boxes,
bundles, and clothing seem to have a magic way of disposing of
themselves, "somewhere, somewhen, somehow," and so it does not occur to
him that his own particular Clorinda is conducting a private condensing
plant which could put those of the large packers to the blush. But let
him have just one experience of straightening out and putting to
rights, and then only will he appreciate that closets are even more
essential than cozy corners and unexpected nooks and crannies for
holding pieces of statuary and collecting dust. If a woman could be
the "& Company" of every firm of architects, there would be an
evolution in home building which would lengthen the lives and shorten
the labors of "lady-managers" in many lands. When that comfortable
wish becomes a reality, let us hope that "Let there be light" will be
printed in large black letters across the space to be occupied by each
closet in every house plan, for the average closet is so dark that even
a self-respecting family skeleton would decline to occupy it, evil
though its deeds are supposed to be. The downpour of the miscellaneous
collection of a closet's shelves upon the blind groper after some
particular package thereon, gives convincing proof that absence of
light means presence of confusion; while it also invites the elusive
moth to come in and make himself at home--which he does.