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.