Australia. To-day, just before
the first race came off, an ambulance-carriage was driven into the
centre of the ground and took up a central position so as to be able
to quickly reach any part of the course. I was assured that it was not
at all unusual for two or three jockeys to be injured in one race.
Another significant and permanent adjunct of the Caulfield racecourse
is the neat little hospital, provided with every possible medical and
surgical appliance for remedying injuries to the human frame. There
are eight beds in the hospital, and I was told that they had at times
been all filled with serious cases. Such a state of things degrades
the good old national sport of steeplechasing to the level of Spanish
bullfights, where the _toreadors_ hear Mass before going into the
ring. It is not wonderful that these dreadful accidents happen, for
some of the fences are truly fearful, consisting of a big tree cut
into four or five pieces, nailed firmly one on top of the other to a
height of four feet six inches. This arrangement precludes all
possibility of the fence yielding if the horse touches it. The
argument in favour of this fence is that it represents the real fence
of the country, and that horses are accustomed to jump it. The
accidents, which are nearly as frequent and as bad in the flat races,
occur generally from the tremendous number of starters. To-day there
were thirty-two in one race and forty-seven in another, and some of
the worst casualties were caused by one horse falling and others
tumbling over him.

At half-past two we left, for the Governor had to open the bazaar in
aid of the Convalescent Home in the place of Lady Loch, who was unable
to leave her room. We drove to the Exhibition building, which did not
look half so pretty as yesterday when it was filled by the children.
However, everything went off well according to the programme, and
after one or two short speeches, and a few pieces on the organ, we
made the tour of the bazaar, and tried to find amid the quantities of
pretty things something to buy, which is always a difficult matter.
From the Exhibition building Mr. des Graz and I proceeded to the yacht
at Williamstown, whither she had been obliged to return on account of
the rough weather off Sandridge. My telegram had not been received,
and I had to wait at the station, until a civil greengrocer
volunteered to drive me down to the pier alongside of which the yacht
was berthed. After the spacious