My dear young Friend.

It is about half an hour since I had the real pleasure of receiving your letter of the 8th inst. and my earnest thanks to you for it and its contents; to all of which I will try to answer at your request.

That beautiful Carlisle, its surrounding hills bordering its valleys, all within the bosom of quiet nature should appear to you as a small affair when compared to our largest city in the Union, is not at all remarkable, but let me ask you the following questions. Did you meet all your dear Parents and Friends quite well? Did they not receive you with the kindest of welcomes? Were not their hearts and feelings towards you the same as ever? Surely all this was fact, and being so, would you not after all prefer Little Carlisle than Great New York with all its humbug, rascality, and immorality? Surely or do I mistake your nature sadly, you do! It is now a good long time since I was young, and resided near Norristown in Pennsylvania. It was then and is now a very indifferent place as compared with New York; but still my heart and mind oftentime dwell in the pleasure that I felt there, and it always reminds me that within a few miles of that village, my Mother[185] did live, and it was there also that my good fortune led me to know and to marry the excellent Wife I have yet, at whose hands yourself have tried to be rendered comfortable. Say what you will. "there is nothing like home"... I wish I could be with you, if only for one week, for then I imagine that between your friends of the mountains, yourself, and myself, we could Tree a "Catamount" and soon untree him. The tugging part of that far-famed animal, I would cheerfully give up to your youthful shoulders, but not so with the figuring of it, yet for a while. Is there such a Beast in existence? Do let me know as soon as you can. I am heartily glad that you have procured a wild cat from the mountainous part of Pennsylvania, and that you have preserved its skin, which I beg you to forward as soon as you please, along with whatever other quadrupeds you may have in hand, that we may say more on those Beasts of the Central States, than has ever been before told....

Look out for Martens, and try to find me some youself! I am glad that you find wild cat meat pretty good, as it corroborates the sayings of many others, who pronounce it equal to young veal.

Let me say to you ("en passant") that your handwriting is considerably improved, and depend upon it that your attention to Drawing will soon enable you as of "copper plate." Go ahead!

I now wish you earnestly to offer our joint respects, regards, and best wishes to all your family and friends, and to believe me always,

Yours most truly,
John J. Audubon.
86 White Street.

P. S. Thank you for what you say of the Bedford gentleman. When I write next, I will mention him at greater length. I wish you could let me know whether we could procure first rate peach trees from your vicinity, and how much 50 of them would cost. I should like to have them assorted, soft, and clings yellow, or red, or blood-red. We wish to plant these as early in March as possible, if young trees, two years old could be had, we might, perhaps, have fruit on some of them during the next summer? Try what you can do for your New York friend. [The following on outside of letter-sheet] I will make up a box for you in a few days, and send it to you through Mr. Chevalier.

Audubon, who ever found city life irksome, as early as 1841 had begun to look about for a farm, or some retired spot within easy access to New York, where he could establish the families of himself, of his two sons, and have about him many of the animals which he then wished to study and depict for his new work. Edward Harris would have been glad to have had him for a neighbor, and wrote from Moorestown, New Jersey, on July 5, 1841, suggesting that he examine "a small farm close to his village, containing about 25 acres of very good land," which the owner was then willing to sell for $3,500, though, added Harris, "when Mr. Havell was here, he asked $5,000 for it." A spot more to his liking, however, was found on the Hudson River, in Carmansville, later known as Washington Heights, where he purchased from thirty to forty acres of land which had a river frontage of a thousand feet, from the present One Hundred and Fifty-fifth to One Hundred and Fifty-eighth Streets, and extended to the easterly limits of the village at the old Bloomingdale Road, near the present Amsterdam Avenue. This tract was well wooded, and among the grand forest trees on the place a large tulip or white wood attracted general attention from its great girth and commanding height. Audubon decided to place his house at the foot of the river bluff, amid a cluster of fine oaks, chestnuts and evergreens, and a clearing had to be made before the site could be laid off; it was some years before the railroad came to mar his river view and interrupt access to the beach. Audubon began to build in 1841, and on February 24, 1842, Victor wrote to Edward Harris: "Our house in the country is going on well, and will probably be ready for us in about two months. John is at work out there every day"; they were planning, he said, to raise pigs and poultry, and he inquired after "draining tiles, such as are made near Philadelphia."

Audubon named his new estate "Minnie's Land," in honor of his wife, Lucy, to whom he deeded the property, the Scotch form of her name having no doubt come into familiar use during their residence abroad. In April, 1842, they turned their backs on the city and occupied their new home. Spencer Baird, when writing on May 3 of that year, said: