Sixteen days of Melbourne life had pleasantly glided away, and we must
needs be off, because we had the rest of Australasia to see, and a very
brief term for accomplishing so great a business. Honours had been
heaped upon us. How we are to take it when we tumble once more to the
common level at Home I hardly know or like to think about. One of the
most gratifying of these honours was the railway free pass, which
Tasmania first sent us, followed by Victoria, South Australia, New South
Wales, and Queensland. Later on I was accorded, through Mr.
Labertouche's kind agency, the golden key or pass over the Victorian
lines for life, which I was assured was my due as one of the original
members of the first Victorian Parliament. From my old friend of nearly
forty years standing, Sir Henry Parkes, I had a courteous note to the
effect that our railway comfort should be looked after so soon as we
crossed the frontier. The honour of these things is, by infinity,
greater than the mere saving of money. This is to be literally the case,
for our daughter is already counting up these savings, with the
intention of claiming them for kangaroo and opossum cloaks and rugs.