This tiny book, originally published in 1950, tells the story of Mr. Rouse, who has decided to build himself a house. Inevitably, the process is much longer and more detailed than Mr. Rouse initially envisions: “Mr. Builder, I’m not a bird, you know; how could I live in a house made of leaves?” This quirky tale from 1950 takes readers through the process of choosing building types and making all kinds of decisions. In a wonderful blend of absurd poetry and pragmatism, Mr. Rouse contends with building materials, transportation, lighting, and plumbing, encountering quarreling stairs and dapper gutters on his way.This tiny book, originally published in 1950, tells the story of Mr. Rouse, who has decided to build himself a house. Inevitably, the process is much longer and more detailed than Mr. Rouse initially envisions: “Mr. Builder, I’m not a bird, you know; how could I live in a house made of leaves?” This quirky tale from 1950 takes readers through the process of choosing building types and making all kinds of decisions. In a wonderful blend of absurd poetry and pragmatism, Mr. Rouse contends with building materials, transportation, lighting, and plumbing, encountering quarreling stairs and dapper gutters on his way.
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