COLLINS STREET—MELBOURNE
On the day we reached Adelaide the train
that took us from Port Adelaide to the city
slipped by an encampment of tents, those of the
naval division; and on the day we left Melbourne
we saw the recruits for Australia's first contingent
swing past us along Collins Street.
Splendid they looked: young and strong and
confident. The cars and motor omnibuses
bunched up by the pavement, and the people
hung out of the windows to cheer as they went
by. I remember I suddenly found myself
without a hat and the tears running down my
cheek, when the last of them disappeared in
the dust, the crowd closing in behind them.
There was only a fortnight or so between that
first glimpse at Adelaide that war had begun,
and the assurance that Australia had grasped
what was to be her share in it, when she sent her
boys on the way to camp through Collins Street.
Collins Street. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, Melbourne will always be expressed to
