the Hotel Australia. The food at the Caves House had been none too perfect and it was with some feeling of returning to home and solid comfort that we picked up the menu in that emporium and heard the first strains of dinner music come pouring across the dining room. Tuesday, August 30th. (Sydney). This being our last full day in Sydney we exhausted it in taking our baggage to its proper place alongside the Mataram down at number six Walsh Bay Wharf. It was on this day I learned the true heart of Sydney and engraved it for- ever on my running shirt. After purchasing a copy of Goethe's Wilhelm Meister I returned to the hotel and changed into my running clothes determined to find a place in the city where I could run free of charge and to hell with what the public would think of it, pro- vided any of it was around. I walked down Castlereigh Street to the park, and finding a suitable place about 220 yards in length up and down I took off my coat, hung it on a bench, and commenced to exercise. There were a large number of bums and loiterers sitting on the benches laid out around a third rate park saloon, but I never imagined that they would notice me or take any interest in what I was doing. To my great surprise, however, as soon as I had commenced to run they all arose simultaneously and gath- ered around the strip of ground which constituted my route. Soon they started to cheer each time I went by. A great crowd collected from all over the park. It was just at the time of day that people were crossing the