Prince

Philip, I understand, came to visit Newnan, Ga. earlier

this year while I was on his side of the Pond.

I think he was opening a

mattress factory or something. I was sorry to miss him.

I've always rather admired him as a rare man who seems

content with his role as royal poodle: intelligent,

dignified, and not likely either to embarrass or be

embarrassed.

Rather a nice accessory to

go with Her Majesty's ever-present handbag. In Germany,

desperate for some news, any news, in English, I picked

up The Times at a train station. (We say "The London

Times" or "The Manchester Guardian." They

are, however, The Times and The Guardian, sans

geography.)

That's not where I read

that the Duke of Edinburgh was in Coweta County. But I

did find in The Times a perfectly delightful story,

illustrated by a large black and white photo of the royal

couple shaking hands thrust through a sea of flowers,

cameras and small Australian flags. The queen is attired

in white gloves, a flowered suit, a triple strand of

pearls and a straw hat with a curly bow on it. And

carrying her white pocketbook.

The duke is behind her (of

course), also reaching for a hand. Both wear gracious

smiles, although his does look a tad less fixed than

hers.

Here's what was happening:

Last November Australia voted on whether to retain a

constitutional monarchy as its government, and to keep

the queen as head of state. The reporter, Alan Hamilton,

did not say by what margin the referendum passed

nationwide, but the tiny Outback town of Coolabah voted

92 percent in favor of monarchy, and felt so pleased with

itself that the whole town decided to meet the queen when

she visited in March.

Now Coolabah - named

for the tree celebrated in "Waltzing Matilda"

- is 80 dirt miles from Bourke, which is so far out

in the northwestern bush of New South Wales, more than an

hour's flight from Sydney, that its name has passed into

Australian idiom. Where we'd say "out in the

boondocks," the Aussies say "back o'

Bourke," the far side of nowhere.

Bourke itself is "a

small Outback town of clapboard houses, wooden sidewalks,

wandering dogs and 3,600 souls, one-third of them

aboriginal," Hamilton wrote. So when Buckingham

Palace announced that HRH would include Bourke in her

brief tour of Australia, Coolabah was ecstatic and

invited her to visit the town that voted so

overwhelmingly to keep her on.

But Coolabah was just too

far away for a head of state on a tight schedule. So

Coolabah came to Bourke, or, at least, 92 percent of

Coolabah came to Bourke - by bus. And that would

be...? That would be 46 loyalists. The four dissenting

voters were invited in a spirit of community

friendliness, but opted to stay home.

A retired public servant

named Colin Watson, 50, organized the pilgrimage, and

carried a framed photograph, the official portrait of the

queen taken when she ascended to the throne in 1952. (The

Brits capitalize Queen, by the way, but the Associated

Press Stylebook advises American journalists to do so

only when her name follows.) "We have a picture of

her displayed in all our public buildings," Hamilton

quotes Watson.

And just how many public

buildings does a community of 50 voters have? "Two

stores and a pub, mate," Watson says proudly. The

Queen, er, queen nearly missed the Coolabah delegation as

they waved frantically and held her portrait aloft behind

a crowd barrier, but an aide steered her toward them just

in time.

"We voted 92 percent

for you," Marie Norris, 67, said proudly, as she

pressed a rose into the royal glove. "I know,"

replied the queen. "You've come specially today,

have you?" "Yes," they chorused, raising

cameras in unison to capture the historic moment.

"Within half a minute, the Queen of Coolabah and All

Australia had moved on," Hamilton writes.

"Mrs Norris [the Brits

also leave periods off courtesy titles like Mr and Mrs]

could think of only one thing: `Hasn't she got beautiful

skin?'"

Bourke officials rather

thought the queen had come to see their town, not

Coolabah, partly because of their achievements in

reducing racial tension between whites and aborigines. A

local radio station promotes aboriginal language and

culture, and the grade school has integrated

successfully. Hamilton records a conversation between HRH

and a 9-year-old at the Bourke school: "Did you

bring your crown with you to Australia?" "No, I

didn't," the queen replied. "I can't get it out

of the Tower of London; it lives there."

But the Coolabah delegation

was so happy with the day that they were planning a

celebratory goat race back home - a Coolabah

tradition, no doubt. Hamilton reports, "Mr Watson

did not get a word in [with the queen] but, clutching his

fading portrait, he enthused: `She really did come and

see us. She couldn't fly into Coolabah, but she made the

effort to come to the nearest airstrip; we're well

satisfied." A week earlier, Prince Philip was eating

Sprayberry's barbecue in Coweta County, Ga. I bet he

remembered that when he heard about the goat race.

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