In the course of his speech at this dinner, the Prince referred sympathetically to the recent death of Premier Peake. He went on to express appreciation of the welcome given him by Adelaide, "the garden city of the Commonwealth," and dwelt upon the fine war-services of South Australia, and the magnificent opportunities which this State offers for development. He also mentioned the extent to which the future of Australia, as a whole, depends upon a broad far-seeing railway policy, a railway policy in fact "that is continental in scope." Continuing he expressed regret at having been compelled to omit his originally proposed overland journey from South Australia to Queensland, and announced that, to make this up, it had now been decided, in consultation with the Queensland Government, to substitute at least one week in the back-blocks or interior of Australia, for the proposed visit to the new mandated territory at Rabaul. "I am very sorry," the Prince added, "to have had to cut out Rabaul, but as I had to choose between the two I am delighted to think I shall now be able to spend some days in seeing bush and station life for myself in the real heart of Australia." This decision met with general approval. Rabaul stands for the mandated territory of tropical New Guinea, formerly in German possession, and now allocated to the Commonwealth. It is a territory bigger than England and Wales but only sparsely inhabited, partially developed, and with no specially outstanding features. No interest it offers could compare with that of Australia itself. The next few days were busy ones, public functions succeeding one another almost continuously, and acres of close-packed crowds assembling wherever it was announced that the Prince was to be present. On one occasion he unveiled a fine bronze statue of the late King Edward. On another he conversed with an assemblage of blinded soldiers. One of the most picturesque of his experiences was when four thousand women war-workers, including nurses, members of Cheer-up clubs, motor-ambulance drivers, comforts workers, and members of the Mothers' League marched past him in solid battalions, many of them bearing stripes indicative of five years' public service, and some the badge which stood for son or husband killed at the front. The scene of enthusiasm will long be remembered when he told them he hoped that they, like the diggers, would all look upon him as a comrade. It was a thing he said often but never too often.