I was in my seventy-fifth year at the time of this visit, but the joy of being enabled to extend the influence of our reform to other States was so great that the years rolled back and left me as full of life and vigour and zeal as I had ever been.  Our work had by no means been confined to the city and suburbs, as we spoke at a few country towns as well.  At Albury, where we stopped on our way back to Victoria, we were greeted by a crowded and enthusiastic audience in the fine hall of the Mechanics’ Institute.  We had passed through a snowstorm just before reaching Albury, and the country was very beautiful in the afternoon, when our friends drove us through the district.  The Murray was in flood, and the “water, water everywhere” sparkling in the winter sunshine, with the snowcapped Australian Alps in the background, made an exquisite picture.  Albury was the only town we visited in our travels which still retained the old custom of the town crier.  Sitting in the room of the hotel after dinner, we were startled at hearing our names and our mission proclaimed to the world at large, to the accompaniment t of a clanging bell and introduced by the old-fashioned formula, “Oyez! oyez! oyez!” Our work in Victoria was limited, but included a delightful trip to Castlemaine.  We were impressed with the fine Mechanics’ Hall of that town, in which we spoke to a large audience.  But a few years later the splendid building, with many others in the town, was razed to the ground by a disastrous cyclone.  Returning from Castlemaine, we had an amusing experience in the train.  I had laid aside my knitting, which is the usual companion of my travels, to teach Mrs. Young the game of “Patience,” but at one of the stations a foreign gentleman entered the carriage, when we immediately put aside the cards.  After chatting awhile, he expressed regret that he had been the cause of the banishment of our cards, and “Would the ladies not kindly tell him his fortune also?” He was as much amused as we were when we explained that we were reformers and not fortune tellers.  I have been a great lover of card games all my life; patience in solitude. and cribbage, whist, and bridge have been the almost invariable accompaniments of my evenings spent at home or with my friends.  Reading and knitting were often indulged in, but patience was a change and a rest and relief to the mind.  I have always had the idea that card games are an excellent incentive to the memory.  We had an afternoon meeting in the Melbourne Town Hall to inaugurate a league in Victoria, at which Dr. Barrett, the Rev. Dr. Bevan, Professor Nanson, and I were the principal speakers.  Just recently I wrote to the Victorian Minister who had charge of the Preferential Voting Bill in the Victorian Parliament to ask him to consider the merits of effective voting; but, like most other politicians, the Minister did not find the time opportune for considering the question of electoral justice for all parties.  I remained in Victoria to spend a month with my family and friends after Mrs. Young returned to Adelaide.  The death of my dear brother John, whose sympathy and help had always meant so much to me, shortly after my return, followed by that of my brother William in New Zealand, left me the sole survivor of the generation which had sailed from Scotland in 1839.