ll, of
West Ballarat, Ballarat being divided into two municipalities, West and
East, where we met with the usual Australian welcome at the hands of
Mayor Macdonald, thence to East Ballarat, where Mayor Ellsworth did the
honors, the latter afterwards accompanying us on a visit to the Ballarat
Orphan Asylum, where an invitation was given to the youngsters to the
number of 200 to witness the game that afternoon, and that they were all
on hand is a certainty.

The crowd that attended the game was 4,500 strong, and they saw the
All-Americas win a rather easy game by a score of 11 to 7, the boys being
too nearly tired out to play good ball. The ascent and fall of Professor
Bartholomew was, however, the sensation of the day, the parachute
failing to sustain his weight in that high altitude, and as a result he
came down with great speed, and, striking a cornice of a building in the
business district, was laid up for a month, it being a lucky thing for
him that he was not killed outright. At seven o'clock that night we left
for Melbourne, arriving there some four hours later in an all but used
up condition.

The next day, Sunday, our whole party started for a drive of twenty-five
miles over the mountains in a big four-horse drag, we being the guests
for that day of Mr. J. K. Downer, a wealthy citizen of Melbourne.
Through a rolling and well-settled country we bowled along until we
reached the foot-hills, that were green and well-wooded, the clear notes
of Mrs. Leigh Lynch's cornet every now and then waking the echoes. After
three hours' ride we reached Fern Glen, the residence of a Mr. Bruce, a
friend of the gentleman whose guests we were, and to whose broad veranda
we were soon made welcome. The scenery here was beautiful, the house
itself being situated in a rift of the mountains and surrounded by giant
trees on every side, the grounds about being possessed of great natural
beauty. After enjoying a splendid lunch provided for the occasion at
Melbourne, and sent out ahead by wagon, we strolled through the
beautiful glen, with its great ferns that arched the pathway, and the
roots of which were watered by a little mountain stream.

After an extempore entertainment we again climbed to our seats in the
drag and were driven back to Melbourne, stopping en route at the stock
farm of J. H. Miller, who had gone into the business of breeding
American trotters, and who again persisted in wining and dining us
before he would let us go.