I went to New York last Friday with the intention of calling upon you, but found a telegram on my arrival, which compelled me to leave without doing so. As you stated in your letter of the 8th that you were in no haste, I presume a little further delay will not be particularly inconvenient to you.

There is one thing which I think perhaps I ought to say to you at once. Your place, Short Hills, as seen from the railroad, is {the} most complete example that I know of a village, a populous rural neighborhood, without fences. In my opinion, the fashion (as I consider it) of dispensing with fences is a bad one. I have not wished to take part in the public discussion of the question, but if you care to know my views, you may find a brief statement of them in the “American Garden” of last October (so badly misprinted that I cannot quite tell what I meant at some points).

It is possible that, living at Short Hills, you have adopted what is the more common opinion, and, if so, that it would suit you better to employ some other landscape architect. In that case, you will please not hesitate to let me know. I do not think, for example, that my friend and former partner, Mr. Calvert Vaux, of New York, has my sentiment on that subject.

Yours Truly