[1] This mention of a tune unexpectedly produced striking proofs of the correctness of the idea the allusion was meant to convey, of the carefulness with which personal reminiscences are read, and of my own shortcoming as a musical remembrancer. In this chapter as first published “Belmont” was given as the name of the tune my father changed. Immediately Mr. John A. Hyslop of Toronto, wrote to The Star Weekly a kind letter in which he said: Pollokshaws was not the only place where certain tunes were so associated with certain psalms, but the idea was peculiar to Scotland generally. I think, however, that Mr. Hanna is mistaken when he refers to his father attempting the daring innovation of singing the fortieth psalm to some other tune than “Belmont”. This tune is not well suited for “I Waited for the Lord My God”. Throughout Scotland generally this fine old psalm was always sung to “Balerma”, while “Belmont” is usually associated with “By Cool Siloam’s Shady Rill”. The turn of the year also brought this letter from Alberta, which is printed as a delightful example of how old associations may be revived, as well as of the depth in the Scottish character to which the ancient melodies have attained:-- Lougheed, December 27th, 1923. P. O. Box 63, D. B. Hanna, Esq. Dear Sir, I take the liberty to write you, having seen a sketch of your life in the “Manitoba Free Press”, which I read with pleasure as well as great interest. I was in Speirs Bridge, Thornliebank at the time you wrote about, when all the old chums were there, such as Agnes and Jane Hamilton, Agnes and Mary Stark, Tina and Agnes Tattersall, Alice Ritchie, the Sives and the Lambies, James Craig, Deaconsbank, and the Patersons at the Castle. You remember the Misses Picken and the black man, Andrew McEwan. I remember quite well your sister, Mrs. Wardrop, and your brother, Hugh, also the Sunday School children, and at this time of year, the grand Christmas tree in the print works. We were really a model people as well as a village. I recall the Old Men’s, and Old Women’s tea with Robertson the Mason, and his quadrille band, and the Templar’s soiree and dance on New Year’s night, with Willie McNaught in the chair, and Donald Cameron. These old memories are worth something. I can look back on scores more of faces which were so familiar, and are so pleasant to think about--Peter Hunter and Willie Stark, as leaders of music in the Sunday School, and dear Mr. Weild, the minister. Now I feel relieved a bit.