"Melbourne was determined, as I've said before," wrote Frank, "not to be outdone by Sydney in hospitality, and it certainly wasn't. We have had invitations that would require weeks and months to accept them. Everybody has made us welcome, not only to their houses here but at the sea-side and up-country. Doctor Bronson received cards for all the clubs, and in a good many ways we have had 'the freedom of the city.' There are several fine clubs here—among them the Athenæum, the Australian, the Melbourne, and the Yorick, the last being semi-professional in its character, like the Lotos of New York. In fact, it has an exchange with the Lotos, members of either club having the privileges of the other without charge for a period of three months.
"Many of the private houses have ball-rooms attached, and dancing-parties are very common in fashionable life. A favorite social amusement is lawn-tennis, and I don't think there is any place in the world where it has greater popularity. It is played by old and young of both sexes, and many of the young ladies in society devote three or four hours daily to the sport. We were invited one day to accompany a gentleman on a round of afternoon calls. The calls amounted to visiting six or eight tennis-courts in succession, and in each court we found a goodly-sized party, some of the ladies and gentlemen playing as though their lives depended on winning, and the rest drinking tea, chatting, and looking on.
"When the heat of summer comes on those who have country-houses, either by the sea or on the mountains, retire there, just as New Yorkers run away to Long Branch, Newport, or the White Mountains. Some of the owners of country-houses keep them open throughout the year, and are never contented unless they have a party of guests to accept their hospitality. We were invited to several of these houses, but time prevented our accepting all the invitations. We ran up for a few days to a rural retreat on the southern slope of one of the mountains that looks upon Melbourne from a distance of forty or fifty miles. The place and all its appointments were delightful.
"The house stands in a broad clearing in the gum forest, and in a position commanding an extensive view. To the rear and on each side the wood-covered slopes rise above it, but in front there is a view along the gently descending plains to Melbourne and the ocean beyond. Though the city is nearly fifty miles away we can clearly make out its position on a fine day, so great is the purity of the atmosphere. When the air is a trifle murky we see in place of Melbourne a cloud of smoke, which the winds bear away, sometimes to the north and sometimes to
