[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.

My husband was born in Rob’s Lea Farm, and they used to be in Henry’s croft too. McKinnon is his name. We came up here in 1911 and settled on a C.P.R. farm six miles out of Lougheed. After that we homesteaded, seven miles from our farm, and bought a quarter of school land joining our homestead, so that we have two farms, three quarter sections of land. We brought pure bred horses with us. But we lost such a lot that long winter. Before that we were so well fixed, but it may be good times will come back again. We trust so; for everybody. We had a dandy crop this year—all kinds of feed, and we are still holding to a bunch of stock in the hope that prices will come again.

Now I offer you my congratulations on your success. My husband joins me. I sent the “Manitoba Free Press” to my brother, Robert Bell, in Alexandria, N.B., which I am sure, he will also read with pleasure. At this season we like to offer greetings, and especially to old friends.

Again accept my warmest regards.

I am, Yours respectfully,
I. M. McKINNON.

P.S.—I must correct you in the name of the tune “Belmont”; it should be “Balerma”.

[2] A few days after this was printed in Toronto I received a letter from another former clerk at Buchanan Street, who was there after my time enquiring if the perpetrator of this discipline was not “Old D——”. It was.

[3] At the time this book was in the press it was estimated that 50,000,000 bushels of the 1923 crop would be exported to Vancouver.