A thousand people rushed the cable trams on the "farewell run" from Port Melbourne. Windows and shutters were smashed, five cars damaged and handrails, bell-straps and destination signs torn away and carried off by souvenir hunters. - News Report

I'm a souvenir collector
   With a very avid flair,
I've odd's and ends
I and my friends
   Have filched from here and there.
In a secret den I hoard them up;
   And when abroad I roam,
In countryside or crowded town,
I slyly mark my booty down,
   And bring a fragment home.

I've a window pane from an aeroplane
   That made a record hop;
I've a button torn from the tunic worn
   By a foully slaughtered cop.
I've a marble-chip from the under-lip
   Of a statue in a park,
And a leaf I took from a rare old book
   In a li'bry after dark.

All ticketed and labelled
   As to places, names and dates,
I've ash-trays, mugs
And china jugs,
   Door-knobs and number-plates
From various pubs and sporting clubs
   And public trams and trains.
And, best of all, my hobby's cheap,
For I have learned long since to keep
   Alert, and use my brains.

I've walking sticks and bits of bricks
   And brass-plates, slightly bent;
I've a withered wreath sneaked from beneath 
   A public monument.
I've lace from the dress of a real princess
   And a champion's cricket bat
From a Test-match, see. What? Sneak-thief! Me?
   I'll summons you for that!

"Den"
Herald, 17 March 1937, p6