After I had been in Melbourne nearly a year I was guilty of a small piece of patriotism that has ever since seemed very amusing to me. I had been reared in the belief that every American-born boy has a chance to become President of the United States. I had also the idea that a child born out of the United States was not, in this sense, American-born. My wife expected to give birth to a child in a few months, and, like most parents, we fully expected it would be a son. So what should I do, in order not to rob my son of the chance of becoming President of his country, but send the mother across the seas to Boston, that he might be born on the soil of the United States! It was not until some little time after this that I learned that nationality follows the parents, and that Presidents may be born anywhere, if they are careful in the matter of their parents. The expected boy was a girl--if I may be pardoned an Irish bull. This was my daughter Sue, who could never be President, unless the Woman's Suffrage movement moves along very much faster than it has up to this time. I have not mentioned my partner in the Australian venture, since I said that he and our clerks sailed away from Boston for Melbourne on the Plymouth Rock--a curious reversal of history, for the West was going to exploit the East, and it was singular that a vessel with the historic name of Plymouth Rock should have been chosen to bear this new Argonautic expedition into the South Seas. Captain Caldwell, as I have said, was an elderly man, sober and conservative. He had been a sea-captain for many years, and was a man of considerable experience. It was the expectation of the Boston shippers that his conservatism would serve as a check upon my rashness and venturesomeness. Captain Caldwell, however, did not like Australia, but his presence did not prevent my plunging into whatever speculation or enterprise seemed inviting. The country was full of chances, and I should have been stupid, indeed, not to have availed myself of them as far as possible. But the rough life did not suit Captain Caldwell, although he was accustomed to roughing it at sea; and he wanted to return to America. So I consented to his return. He went in the same ship with my wife, the Red Jacket, which, by the way, was then to make one of the record-breaking voyages of the world. Although he had been in Melbourne only a few months, I gave him $7,500, which was the share belonging to him of the estimated profit in our business. There was still another incident connected with this voyage of the Red Jacket which made it memorable in my experiences. I have mentioned that the phrenologist Bridges said, in England, some years before this, that I should become either a great reformer or a great pirate. In Melbourne, one day, I found myself face to face with a charge of piracy! I was accused of trying to make away with some $2,000,000 of gold, which I had put on the Red Jacket for shipment to London.