mpathy which I subjoin:

A lady sends Mr. Slocum the inclosed five-pound note as a token of her
appreciation of his bravery in crossing the wide seas on so small a
boat, and all alone, without human sympathy to help when danger
threatened. All success to you.

To this day I do not know who wrote it or to whom I am indebted for
the generous gift it contained. I could not refuse a thing so kindly
meant, but promised myself to pass it on with interest at the first
opportunity, and this I did before leaving Australia.

The season of fair weather around the north of Australia being yet a
long way off, I sailed to other ports in Tasmania, where it is fine
the year round, the first of these being Beauty Point, near which are
Beaconsfield and the great Tasmania gold-mine, which I visited in
turn. I saw much gray, uninteresting rock being hoisted out of the
mine there, and hundreds of stamps crushing it into powder. People
told me there was gold in it, and I believed what they said.

I remember Beauty Point for its shady forest and for the road among
the tall gum-trees. While there the governor of New South Wales, Lord
Hampden, and his family came in on a steam-yacht, sight-seeing. The
_Spray_, anchored near the landing-pier, threw her bunting out, of
course, and probably a more insignificant craft bearing the Stars and
Stripes was never seen in those waters. However, the governor's party
seemed to know why it floated there, and all about the _Spray_, and
when I heard his Excellency say, "Introduce me to the captain," or
"Introduce the captain to me," whichever it was, I found myself at
once in the presence of a gentleman and a friend, and one greatly
interested in my voyage. If any one of the party was more interested
than the governor himself, it was the Honorable Margaret, his
daughter. On leaving, Lord and Lady Hampden promised to rendezvous
with me on board the _Spray_ at the Paris Exposition in 1900. "If we
live," they said, and I added, for my part, "Dangers of the seas
excepted."

From Beauty Point the _Spray_ visited Georgetown, near the mouth of
the river Tamar. This little settlement, I believe, marks the place
where the first footprints were made by whites in Tasmania, though it
never grew to be more than a hamlet.

Considering that I had seen something of the world, and finding people
here interested in adventure, I talked the matter over before my first
audience in a little hall by the country road. A piano