ENCLOSING THE GARDEN 27 



Before considering one of the best of all manners of enclosing 

 the garden, — the hedge, — one word must be said for the wall 

 and fence. I myself believe in walls, even about the very small 

 place. Build your wall, hang your gate, and then invite everyone 

 to enter! This I consider an Anglo-American compromise in gar- 

 dening. For my idea of sharing a garden is that it is one of those 

 heaven-sent possessions which can be enjoyed most only by being 

 shared most. This matter of opening the garden to all outside 

 it is not, I am well aware, either practicable or desirable, when 

 the garden is on the outskirts of a city. My experience is that of 

 a life in a town forty miles from a city, where the coming of 

 visitors is not subversive of all chance for quiet personal enjoy- 

 ment of the garden by its owners. 



A wall, however, we must preach in this country; a wall we 

 shall eventually have. The wall really protects; the wall affords a 

 charming background for planting, both within and without. 

 Mrs. F. F. Thompson's garden at Canandaigua, New York, af- 

 fords a lovely illustration of a beautiful wall-treatment so far as 

 the outside is concerned. The smooth turf below it, the restrained 

 use of vines upon the wall, are here a lesson to all interested in 

 this matter of walls in America. 



To go back to the practical side of the subject — fancy the 

 freedom from care of the mother of yoimg children, whose gar- 

 den is enclosed by a wall. What freedom, as compared with the 

 present, when children spill over the landscape in a way both 

 inconsequent and dangerous. 



Next best after the wall is the fence; and by the fence I do not 

 mean the picket or white painted fence, perfect and necessary as 

 that often is with and to the Georgian house. Perhaps this type 

 of fence is the only proper wooden fence to allow in this country; 

 this is for architects to decide. I mean here the easily obtainable 

 fence of wire: that fence which, after three years — no, two 



