CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE 



IN the spring of 1907 I received through Dr. T. W. 

 Edgeworth David, geologist and "professorial head" Australia 

 of the University of Sydney, an invitation to visit 

 that institution for the purpose of giving a course of 

 lectures on the American university system. For 

 David thought that Australian universities followed 

 too closely after British models, and that as general 

 conditions in Australia approached more nearly those 

 of our Western states some features of American 

 management could well be introduced. 



Having accepted the invitation, I sailed in April 

 from Vancouver on the Moana, a rather small and 

 uncomfortable craft to the movements of which we 

 became hardened only with time. Among the passen- 

 gers were several interesting people, one being a 

 violinist, Marie Hall of London, a charming, simple- Marie 

 hearted, sincere, and highly gifted young woman, HaU 

 small, slender, and girlish-looking. Daughter of a 

 musician pursued all his life by hard luck, she grew 

 up in poverty, often playing as a child for a shilling 

 on the wharves of Bristol. Success, however, left her 

 still a modest person. In Sydney before her first pub- 

 lic appearance, an elaborate reception was arranged 

 for her at the Australian Hotel. That evening, in the 

 corridor, a pompous society lady, giving her a hasty 

 glance, said loftily: "Show me the lift." Miss Marie 

 meekly complied, and then went above with the 

 haughty dame, to be received as the honored guest of 

 the evening! 



Miss Hall's accompanist, Miss Apollonia Basch, 



C 199 3 



