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93 High St,Dunfermline My Dear Young Relative, I duly received your kind letter some time in June last, and regret very much that circumstances have prevented me answering sooner. I make no attempt at apology. I have neither had heart nor time to write for a long time. Mrs B. was seized with singular illness more than a year ago. I have had a hired nurse attending on her night and day for more than a year, that is since October last year. And there is little signs of improvement. It a mixture of Rheumatism and nervousness and comes on in paroxysms of burning heat along the spine, spreading along all the back and down the arms. These are succeeded by chilliness and exhaustion. Every remedy that love and skill could think of has been tried. I had her down at the seaside for two months in the summer. She seemed to improve the first two weeks, but the attacks became as severe as ever, and I had to bring her home. Some days she is pretty free of pain and the next day or two in perfect agony. It bas been a sore trial to myself, and I am not so able to stand anything of that kind as I once was. I was off work for a fortnight but I have been able to return to it again for the last two months. My Dear Young friend I believe you would be expecting and I would have liked to have written you a more cheerful reply to your kind epistle. But I really cannot get my spirits up to write anything like I used to write. Your mother and I dare say she will understand me better than you possibly can. I am very much obliged for the papers you send me, as they give me some idea of Australian scenery. I send you the Weekly Mail every week. I hope you get them regular. I have also been able to get the Christmas number of the Illustrated London News this year, but I had to apply for it long ago. I will send it along with this note if I can get it finished in time. By the way, you had better not make any remarks on the papers you send as it renders them liable to postage at the letter rate. Of course, James being in the Post Office just brought it in and said nothing about it. But illustrated papers are paid more attention to than others. James is now 26 years of age and getting on very well, and sends his kind love to you all. I am sorry to have to say that I am in arrears with all my correspondence. I have not heard from our Glasgow relatives for a long time. I must try and muster up courage to dash off a few lines to each before the New Year. We have no friends in Cairneyhill now. Cousin Jane Arnot left a good while ago to keep her brother's house in Edinburgh during his wife's illness, and since she recovered, she has been living by herself and earning her livelihood as a dressmaker. Uncle Lockhart Blelloch's widow wife (Nance Cousin) died about a month ago, she has been a hard working woman all her life, working at outdoor labour to the very last. And it was only when she was unable to resist, that they conveyed her to her son's house. Give my kind love to your parents. I was sorry to hear that your mother had been poorly, but I trust that both she and all the rest of the family are in their usual health. I am glad to hear of your prosperity so far. "Stirling Castle" would have been a very grand name and would have been very dear to your mother, but somehow I think Springbank is sweeter. I would have liked to written a little more, but there is a confounded fiddler on the street, and his miserable scraping is jarring on my nerves. So with kind love from you Aunt Isabella to you all, and hoping to be able to write in a more cheerful strain next time. I remain your loving uncle. John Blellock 5 Gardner St Glasgow To my Dear Friend Dick (Allan), I received your welcome letter & I was glad to find that you were all well with the exception of your mother - you mentioned that she was away to Geelong for her health. But I humbly trust that she would come home all right with God's blessing, and that she will have the pleasure of living a long time along with all the household in your new home of "Stirling Castle", Methinks I should like very much to come off some afternoon and see you all in your new dwelling and stay a night or two with you, and come back in a few days - vain thoughts!! I may say here that we have no abiding place in this world, get Christ in our hearts here and then we will have a glorious place hereafter in the Palace of many mansions. I am sorry that I have been so long in writing you, but the reason is, I thought I would wait until the Loch Moidart would come home and then if John was spared to go away again on another voyage, then I could tell you where the vessel was bound for. Well, the Loch Moidart was a year & a fortnight away, so you may know we were very worried to see him. He desires me to say that he had no time to write to anyone but me. He says the weather was fearful hot in Calcutta. Some of them took the fever and John also. Fortunately he was just a fortnight in the hospital. The Steward died in the hospital. The crew subscribed a little money for a stone placed at the head of his grave. After leaving Calcutta, they had stormy weather & was almost a wreck in the Bay of Bengal. They could not get out of the bay for 20 days. In proceeding homewards in the English Channel. They were kept back for another 21 days. They also came in collision with another vessel. The other vessel was much damaged. But fortunately there was no lives lost. A letter from Uncle Peter Robertson's daughter informing me of her mothers death. I was sorry to hear of it. I understand that all three was very kind to John that made the place to him more homely. However, my dear boy got safe home once more. He was 2 months at home, then he took a thought that he would try a steamer this time. So he sailed last week for Calcutta being 11th Feb. He was to write from Liverpool but I think he will not have got the opportunity. The ship's name is the Clan Munro - I have not got the proper address. I would rather that he had been going to Adelaide, but if all's well he may yet go there perhaps the next voyage. Andrew received the views from your sister. He must have forgot to thank her for her kindness as they are very pretty and they are as good as ever they are kept in a drawer in remembrance of her. I may mention to your dear mother that I never hear anything about the young paiseley now. I may also say that it will be seven years come April since my dear wife died. 93 High St, Dunfermline My Dear Young Relative, I was very much interested with your graphic description of your manner of life in Australia. From all I can learn it has a very healthy, equable climate, with none of the rapid transitions from heat to cold, and vice versa that we have. 'We are now in the midst of frost and snow again, with their close attendants coughs and colds. And speaking of these, I am very sorry to have to tell you that our son James has caught a cold upon the chest which is like to prove very serious. I may here tell you that owing to his mothers condition (Who is no better), he could not get that rest and quiet which he so much needed. He got married last April to a very fine young girl, but it was a very great risk. He seemed to be doing very well in his own house, and went away to spend his summer holidays with his young wife at Callender. Expecting to desire great pleasure and enjoyment at the fishing in that locality. He being very ardent in the pursuit of the finny tribe. But he was seized with Sciatica on the third day, and suffered very much. His chest complaint also got worse, and he has not been at his work in the Post Office since. Isabella is much the same as when I wrote last. Always suffering from a settled deep melancholy that nothing can remove. With dismal forebodings, always thinking each day is to be her last on Earth. And yet there is apparently very little wrong with her. Although she does complain bitterly of a burning sensation running along the spine and spreading over her back. She still requires the hired nurse to attend her yet, and I can see no prospect of any change for the better. Of course she never speaks of getting better. She does not want to get better. I feel myself placed in very trying circumstances, yearning my very heart out for her recovery, and she always praying for a termination to her sufferings at the opposite end. And as I am entirely defendant upon strangers, I have no-one to take counsel with, or to sympathise with me. Of Isabella's two sisters. one is stone blind, and the other has lost her memory and is nearly as nervous as herself. Then there is my own sister Betsy who has quite enough to do with her own family. And my sister Margaret, Mrs Masterton who has been a rattling thorough going woman all her days. She is now seventy four years of age, and she cannot leave her husband who is four years older. He is past working and has a small allowance of the Torry estate for long service. They reside in Torryburn. By the doctor's advice I took Isabella out to live with them for a few weeks, sending the nurse with her. But the very night she went out, a fearful thunderstorm came on which so shook her nerves that she came home on the third day. For eight months she has had Morphia injected under the skin, but it entirely lost its effect, and a sore job we had to get it broken off. The doctor has ordered her to try snuff, tobacco, porter, beer and spirits. In fact we at our wits end, and were it not for the trust that I have in God. I would sink under it altogether. But if I read my Bible right, " All things work together for good for those who love God, who are the called according to his purpose". But there comes in the difficulty. Am I one of these? I certainly have considered myself one for more that twenty five years or so, but I cannot help asking myself at times, what good end all this suffering and misery can serve? And although I devoutly feel and believe that God does not afflict willingly, but for our profit, I cannot help thinking at times that it looks more like punishment pure and simple, than such kind fatherly chastening here spoken of. But I must try and have faith and patience· and it may yet work out the peaceable fruits of righteousness. My Dear Young Friend, you will likely be very surprised at all this, and will able to put past a good few pounds Which come in very handy now. It is bad enough as it is, but what must it have been if we had had no means? And take my advice Dick, when you are young, and never on any accounts spend your last sixpence. And now in regard to myself. I am much about the same as when I wrote last, only about a year older. And I feel that a year more has a great deal more effect upon me now than it had twenty years ago. My work is not bodily labour, but I have a good deal of running about and my old bones is still full of the old Crimean Rheumatism, so that I am sometimes nearly worn out when night comes. But there is no use talking of surrender in present circumstances. I had promised myself an afternoon of life, but apparently it is not to be. I hope you are getting the newspapers, I send one every week. Let me know if you get them. There is another confounded blunder this year again with the Christmas number of the Illustrated London News. The newsagent had simply put my name down without the address, and it was sent to Mr Blelloch, Maygate. But he has ordered some more, and I have little doubt that I will get one. Although I fear it will not be in time for this mail. I sincerely hope that yourself, parents, brothers and sister are all in the full enjoyment of the rich blessings of health. Give them all my kind loving regards, and I trust that you have had a good season for your crops. Farming is a very precarious occupation nowadays in this country. High rents and bad seasons have raised a great outcry. And a person could hardly predict with any great certainty where and how it will end. The north of Scotland is nearly as bad as Ireland with their Land League and no rent associations. I see that you are sometimes badly off for water in some parts. I hope you are in a more favoured district, and that you are not molested with the rabbit pest. I see from today's paper that there is another lot of stoats, and weasels shipped to assist in their extirpation. By the by I got some castes mounted on improved cardboard and I think I will send you one. I must now close. Try and send me another long screed, and believe me to be your affectionate cousin. John Blelloch 93 High Street, Dunfermline Dear Cousin, I have been waiting very anxiously for a letter from you for some times, but you may very naturally say the same thing, for I believe it is six or seven months since I received your last. But cannot be very sure about the date, as I sent it on to your Uncle John Blellock in Glasgow. He is getting a little infirmed now. I saw him during the summer, but he tells me since that his memory is failing him very fast. But the most startling portion of his last letter was the intelligence of your dear mother's death. He says he got it from Adelaide. And can it be really true? And is it possible that your only sister has been taken from you also. Verily, God's dealings with us are very inscrutable. You mentioned in your last that your mother's health had been in a very unsatisfactory state for some time, but that blow must have been a severe one when it did come. For the loss is an irreparable one to you all, situated as you are in a somewhat new country still, with all you other connections at considerable distances from you. I would like to address some words of comfort and consolation, but what can I say? Your uncle tells me that it was in August that both your mother and sister were taken from you. So that by the time this reaches you, the first bitter pang will have softened down a little. It may appear rather harsh and cruel to say that time can heal such wounds, but yet it is well for us that such is the case. For the funeral cortege is never a day off our streets. Sharing that sorrow is at someone's fireside. Were it not for the bright future beyond the grave, what a dreary weary world this would be. And my Dear Young friend, let me remind you that you have no reason to mourn as those who have no hope of a reunion. There is light I hope, bursting from every chink of the future, both for comfort and guidance. Your dear mother has in the natural course of things gone before, from the whole tenor of her letters for many years past, anyone could see that she was a sincere, unostentatious, christian woman. A deep settled faith and piety breathed through the whole of them. She no doubt, imbibed the true spirit of religion from her father. What a dear good old man your grandfather was. And recalling my childhood days I can remember your great grandfather, a good old man of the grand old "Scottish Covenant" type. I was sitting not long ago at an old woman's bedside and she told me a number of his terse homely sayings. "Aye! she said, he told me not to lose my "Grup O' Christ". A strange thrilling fancy comes over me at times. To think of that old man (old no longer, but full of spiritual life and vigour), welcoming his descendants whom he may have influenced by precept and example to that land of pure delight where saints immortal reign. Let it be our aim to join the happy throng, and may I just add that no one ever did so by chance. The matter is very urgent, there must be seeking, asking, knocking, and doing this there is no fear of a refusal. I am sorry to have to say that there is no change for the better in our domestic affairs. What a weary time we have had, and not the least prospect of any improvement. It is now running in the fifth year since our sore trial began. Mrs B's trouble is a complete mystery to everyone. She is nervous and excitable, but in full possession of all her faculties, and her bodily health seems good. But she is in constant apprehension of some impending calamity. I believe the long continued use of opiates has aggravated her trouble very much, and now altho' they do her no good, she can't or at least won't want them. I told you I had bad three doctors trying their hand at her. One had her almost poisoned with chloral, another with opium. While the third injected large doses of morphia under the skin. The opiates only make her irritable now. Her nervous system has been sorely shattered, and she gets little or no rest during the night. And altho' I have still a nurse attending her, the fatigue and want of sleep is telling very heavily upon myself. I am still able to attend my work, but I am afraid that I will have to give it up soon. It does not do to give way to despondency, but I have passed through a very severe ordeal. My faith has been very sorely tried, so much so that at times I have had to fall back upon my old "Black Watch spirit and bid defiance to everything. I have sent on the Christmas number of the "Traffic" this year. I think it is rather superior to the Illustrated London News. But if you prefer the latter, let me know and if spared, will attend to your wish. By the way, should I address you as Dick or Richard? You certainly sign yourself as Dick, but that is generally used as the diminutive of Richard with us here at home. Before closing I may say that I feel it rather more difficult to write a letter now. My ideas do not run so smoothly and my finger joints are rather stiff from the effects of Rheumatism. My heart almost fills at the thought that there is little use sending any local news, as the only one who could have any interest in them is now beyond their influence. Give my kind sympathy and regards to your father and your brothers. If they are going to take up land in that new district, there will in all likelihood be a partial breakup of the family. Remember me to your aunt Catherine and other relatives when your write them. Mrs B. sends her kind love, sympathises with you in your bereavement, and bids you cherish your memory deep down in your heart, as it will be a great safeguard against evil, and will not make you any the less of a man. And now with wishes to you all, I remain your affectionate friend and cousin. John Blelloch John Blellock 86 Abington St, Glasgow My Dear Dick (Allan), I was most agreeably surprised this Monday morning to receive two foreign letters, one from your good-looking self. and the other from my son Jack or John from Calcutta. He is well and liking the ship and Captain. They were to leave there at Cristmas (sic) and then go on to Rangoon and China and several other places, so he says it is hard to say when he may be home. Only they will come home by Calcutta and thence to London if all goes well yet home I trust once more - ship's name is Palatina. And with regard to your own letter for which I was very glad to see, you was wondering if I had heard from any of our friends of your dear mother's death. Yes I did hear!. I had a letter from Elizabeth Robertson (Adelaide), she told me that they were all so sorry to inform me not only of one. but two deaths. It was a loud knot to me to be also ready. It must have been a very loud call to all of you. I deeply sympathise with you all in this affliction. I also had a letter from my dear sister Catherine informing me of the great loss you had sustained. but neither of the two parties could give me any of the particulars that I longed for. And that caused me to weary so much for one from you. I do not know how far Geelong is from your house, I understand your mother died there, but was her corpse brought home to your house and interred beside her daughter?? But passing on, they are now no more and I humbly trust they are gone to a better country where there is no more parting. In the meantime it is a great bereavement, I trust you will all lay it to hear that when the summons come that we all may be ready. We must all go one by one. I suppose your mother would be at home when your sister died. The dear girl they are both away from the evil to come. It is now nearly 10 years since my dear wife died, which was a great blow to me and the family. She left five sons and I understand there is five of you. My two little daughters died in infancy. I hope you will all be spared and be agreeable and be a comfort to your father and to one another. I am informed that your cousin Katie (Allan) is living with you - be kind to her the dear girl. And when you write to her mother or her sisters. Remember me kindly to them. I should like to give you some account why I have been so long in writing. as mostly all our friends are finding fault with me. You are aware that trade has been very dull and John was a long time at home· could not get a ship. I was always waiting till he would get one and then I would write a few letters to Australia to let you and some more of you know where he was bound for. As I should like very well if he had got a vessel to Adelaide or Melbourne, or what would you think of Geelong for a change?. The next hindrance I met in with was last year at the term time. I had been 6 years in my house and I was intending to remain another year. The milk shop next door wanted my house and offered more money for it. So of course I had to look out for another house. I was a long time in finding a house to suit. At last I got the one I am in. It is about half a mile further away from Andrew's office, and then the remaining of our things put us all very much about. Unfortunately I took a sore eye got cold. I went to the eye infirmary. I attended there for a good few weeks, latterly they wanted me to stay all night for a time - I had to get part of my eyelid cut. I am thankful to God that it is better, although still tender. After that I went to the country for a change of air for a few weeks. At this present time James my second youngest son has been very poorly for several weeks. One of his lungs being affected, but he is a good deal better, but this cold winter weather prevents him from getting out. We have had a good deal of snow here. I am keeping near the fire while I am writing. This is a very stormy day here of wind and rain and the snow is disappearing, but I expect we will have more snow yet. I suppose you will be busy with the harvest and warm weather. I have still another hindrance you know - I am getting old. Will you forgive me now Dick? You wanted to know something of the Cumberland Training ship John was engaged three years. You understand it is a government ship. They pay part, and the parents pay a part. I paid 2/6 a week and the last year a little less. Orphans get it for nothing, the boys must be above 12 years old, and they must go to sea at 16. I would not advise any of you to become sailors. It is a rough and dangerous life to live. I was very much against John to go to sea I think you will have plenty of work on your farm. You do the work and the Lord has promised the rain and the sunshine. Andrew is still working away. He was very busy before the new year. He has all the writing to do so that he has little or no time for writing letters, but just has little time. Alex is working with him just now, [Alex is in lodgings] but he is far from being steady. Andrew has to part with him often and get another in his place. He like the poison? too well. And James being so unwell at present he has got a man in his place, but I trust that he will be able soon to resume his work I think that Andrew is your oldest brother's name and Dave next, and then the one they call Dick! I sent the Hollow Bough to you last mail, but no doubt you will all get a reading of it. I send the signs to Aunt Catherine (Allan) along with this letter, and you will get the signs the following mail. I am afraid our Adelaide friends will be angry at me for being so long in writing. I must write to Elizabeth soon. My dear friend, I have little expectation of ever seeing you or any of you in this world, but I trust to see all of you in the next. May the Lord bless you all in my earnest prayer. I still remain your affectionate friend and well wisher, John Blellock. **Just got the views,they are splendid, Many Thanks. JB. 93 High St, Dunfermline My Dear Dick, I hardly know how to begin a letter to you, and it is this hesitancy that has kept me so long in writing. Your last letter with the photos (for which accept my kind thanks), arrived at a time when I was very much put about. A very disagreeable affair had just taken place. You ask me in your letter if I had anyone keeping house for me. Well to begin; At the time of Isabella's death, the nurse I then had, had been about three years with us. She was not exactly what I would have liked. I knew that she liked a dram, (most nurses do). But I had not much choice for poor dear Isabella got very troublesome in the long run, and few would undertake the charge. At the close, the nurse was about as much knocked up as myself. And as I did not like to send her away just at once, I told her that if she liked to remain at a reduced wage, she could do so until she regained some measure of strength. So matters went on smoothly for some time, but I began to see signs of drink upon her when I came home at night. (I never got home to meals). I also began to get hints from the neighbours, which would have been better for all parties had they told me sooner. I found her one Saturday very much under the influence of liquor. I told her I could stand it no longer and she would have to leave. She remarked that I would never have any occasion to say anything about drink in the future. Things appeared all right when I left on Monday. But I was sent for about midday. And when I arrived, found the house filled with police and doctors. The poor infatuated wretch had cut her throat. After they had made out their report, they all left me to my own reflections. No blame was attached me. Neither could I blame myself, but yet I felt very deeply. The publicity and talk and even the attempt at condolence was abhorrent. I was ashamed and disgusted. She had committed the rash act in bed, and tumbled out of it, and was quite naked, and had rolled among her own blood. It was a ghastly scene, but from my military experiences I could soon have put all to right. But then I would have been talked about so after a great many refusals, I at last got a woman who used to wash to my late wife to assist. We got her washed and sewn into a sheet and sent off to the mortuary. I then made a very disagreeable discovery. I came on over three dozen of pawn tickets. The first thing of the kind I had ever seen. There was neither sheet nor blanket on her own bed, only a piece of old carpet under the counterpane. Whole drawers had been emptied, and a large box filled with sheets and other papery had also disappeared. I was very irritated and determined to prosecute. But as they are rather kittle gentry to deal with, and not liking publicity, I came to an arrangement with him. I have him close on a pound, and got back between 5 to 6 pounds worth of articles. But that did not represent the half she had stolen and disposed of for drink direct. But I have got over it now, and look back upon it as a hideous disagreeable dream, and I have been fortunate enough to get back the first nurse I had for Isabella. She was with us a year and a half and had to leave on account of sickness. She is thoroughly trustworthy, sober and honest and industrious. And I am very comfortable altho' 16 pounds a year is just rather much for a person in my position to pay for a housekeeper. But I cannot well do otherwise. Neither of my sisters can leave their own families, and I believe I am freer; so long as I am able to pay my way.But I am beginning to feel old age creeping upon me altho' only 64. But the effects of my campaigns and old wounds (broken leg), are telling upon me. But I have always been able to keep my employment. This last winter has been a very severe one and for the last fortnight I have been laid up with a rather sharp attack of Bronchitis. But the tubes are about all clear again, and I expect to be at work in a couple of days or so. But I am afraid that I will require to have to retire from active work before long, and try to live in a quiet frugal way in some of the villages round about. I have no incentive now to any endeavour for the future. I live now in the past at the same time I can calmly look forward to a happy reunion with those who have gone before. To be forever with the Lord. I am afraid that I will not can promise to send you any very detailed account of my military career at the present time, but should I retire from active life, you may have a chance. I am removing from my present dwelling after being in it for 25 years. But I have about a mile of very steep brae to climb each night and I am getting a house in Bothwell St, about 100 yds from the work. I must now close, you will see I am rather shaky yet. I hope your cough is better, and now with kind regards to your father, and the other members of you~ family. I remain you~ affectionate cousin. John Blelloch 7 Bothwell St, Dunfermline Dear Cousin, I have certainly broken the record this time. I have always. been going to write. you, but put it off for a more convenient season. What a great evil procrastination is! How many lives has it wrecked! I see it is more than a year since I got your last letter dated July 1890 I cannot very well tell how you have been getting on since that time. I have not been very strong, and I am a good deal handicapped by my ankle which will never be all right again. I have still managed to limp about the factory yet, but I will have to give up soon, even altho' they do not dismiss me, for altho' my powers are failing , my duties are increasing. We have had three managers during a little over 2 years. And having been for so long acting as the manager's assistant, a good deal of extra responsibility has gradually fallen upon my shoulders. And the mischief is that I am supposed to know all about a great many things that I was never allowed to interfere with. Our present manager came about two months ago. He seems to be an able enterprising man from Aberdeen. You see there is so much competition in our trade now that a man must have some inventive genius to be able to bring out novelties. One of my greatest sources of worry is a rather singular one. Too much work for the number of workers, which makes them saucy, and ill to manage. And I cannot get them to work now. What they used to be very thankful for not so very long ago. And yet the orders have to be compelled and this is where the worry comes in. The salesmen clamming for goods that I cannot get made. So that when night comes, my poor wracked brain is fitter for bed than to sit down and write a letter. I do not know how it is with you, but with us the greatest evil of our time is every man and woman trying to do as little work as they can, and get as much as possible for it. And the way they go on with trade unions is deplorable. When I look back to my young days and contrast the comforts that the working man enjoys now, with the wretched struggle for existence he had then. It seems to me as if they would bring a judgment on the land. They are actually getting beyond all law, human or divine. And I question very much if they are any happier for all their improved surroundings. As you very aptly say in your last letter, there seems to be a spirit of unrest throughout the whole world, that nothing short of Christ's second coming can still. I am very much pleased to hear that you have declared yourself to be on the Lord's side. Altho' we do not live in persecuting times, yet it takes a deal of firmness and circumspection to walk along the narrow path. There is much to jostle and disturb us. Many a time I exclaim "Oh for a closer walk with God". Nothing less will do. We should be always conscious that we are living, moving and having our being in God. I remember hearing a remark about a man who spoke about God as if he were his next door neighbour. But I feel that he must be nearer me even than that. Even in my innermost heart, purifying it and making it fit habitation for the Holy Spirit. You remember the exhortation. Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God that worketh in you to will and to do of his own good pleasure. That is as I take it to be. Strive for it as if everything depended upon yourself, while at the same time believing that without God you can do nothing. There is far too little Bible reading nowadays, even among professedly Christian men and women. As you say, the students of prophecy are giving very close attention to the predictions of both the New and Old Testaments. And all seem to come to the conclusion that we are very near the end of the present dispensation. What a strange startling spectacle Europe presents at the present day. The whole continent is bristling with bayonets and what dreadful death dealing instruments of war they are inventing now. And if war does break out (and the least spark may fire the train), What a terrible carnage there will be. Well may we pray for the speedy advent of the Prince of Peace. Let it be our part to watch, that that day may not come upon us unawares. Having our loins girt and our lamp burning like unto servants waiting the coming of their Lord. I was glad to hear such a good account of cousin Aleck Robertson. I got pretty intimate with him and all the rest of your mothers family when I was in Stirling Castle in 1842. Oh Dear! What a long time ago. They were a nice family but all younger than me. What a grand old Christian man your grandfather was. Your Great-Grandfather old Saunders Robertson of Cairneyhill was the same. Men like that had a great influence for good, which bears fruit even after they pass away. There is one drawback in writing to you, there is no place or person hereabout that you can feel much interest in. I may mention my brother Tom in America. A real out and out Christian man, always complaining that we do not live up to our privileges. We should always be consciously living as in God's sight. Always in uniform, and under arms ready to do battle for the Lord. Whether our own heart or in the world around us. He is a great reader of the Bible, believing it to be the power of God, and the wisdom of God unto salvation to all that believe in its contents. I have but little to say about my own ordinary life. I live in a very quiet way. Of course you know that I am all alone now. A middle aged Christian woman keeps house for me, and altho' her wage 6/- per week and board is about as much as I can afford, I enjoy every comfort of a home life. And wife and children being all in the spirit land, there is no-one directly looking up to me for help. And even if I should have to give up work, I think I will be able to live on in a canny way, without being a trouble to anyone. In a pecuniary sense I have few wants. And my small pension with a few hundreds of savings will I think serve my turn. The great outlook is to lay up treasure in heaven, and to be able to say, "I know that safe with him remains, Protected by his power, What I've committed to his trust, Till the decisive hour". I have just to add, do not take an example from me, but write as soon as you have wet day. And with respects to all the members of your family, also cousins Aleck and Catherine, I remain your affectionate cousin, John Blelloch. Glasgow My Dear Cousin, We received your letter all right. We did not remove this year. We are always going to flit, but when we go out house-hunting, the look of some of the houses and the rents that they ask for them soon puts flitting out of our head. Houses in Glasgow are very dear and every year they rise them. There are always a lot of new buildings going up and they have them all let before there is a stone laid. Everybody flocks for a new house. It is the big demand that makes the rent dear. So our address will be the same for another year. We are having splendid weather here just now. Tomorrow starts Glasgow fair holidays. John stop work tomorrow and does not begin again till the 1st August. We are going to Irvine for a few days. Irvine is a small watering place on the Ayrshire coast. We were there last year. The next event will be the Caledonian excursion. It is to be on the 10th of September to Dundee. The tickets are 1 pound & 3d each, and there are 7,000 going. There are to be ten special trains to take us. The Caledonian Railway Company have the largest excursions that was ever known to leave Glasgow. Last year there was about 8,000 went to Aberdeen and there was not a single accident. It was the talk in all the newspapers. We will see how we get on this year. I may tell you that John has had a very sore eye. He has been attending the eye infirmary this two months. It was separation of the nerve of sight of the left eye. He was completely blind in that eye. We got a fright for we thought he was going to lose his sight, but he is getting on all right now. He can see as well as ever, but he is still attending the infirmary. We do not know what was the cause of it. The change of air should do him a lot of good. We have not heard from Bella Allan yet. You must have a trying time between want of rain and one thing and another. Thank goodness we have none of that kind of weather here. We have had a lot of thunder and lightning lately, but the weather is pretty good just now. We were sorry to hear Andrew and Alex (Allan), had lost so much by the fires. It is to be hoped that you will have better weather for the next year. Andrew Blellock is still in business and Alex is working with him. They are all well. We have not heard from John Blellock in Dunfermline for a long time. We will have to write to him soon. We have a great show in Glasgow just now. Barnum & Bailey's they leave Glasgow on Saturday first for Edinburgh. I think we will manage to see it yet before it leaves. I have no more news at present. I hope you are all well. We both send our kind love to all. I am your affectionate cousin, Annie Blellock. Write soon. 55 St.Mungo St. Townhead, Glasgow. I am sending a paper along with this. 7 Bothwell St Dunfermline Dear Cousin, Looking over your long kind letter of 16th June 1898, it seems to me to be reading up some ancient history, it is so old a date. I accept all your manifold and varied excuses you make for your own delay in writing me. I only wish I could return some your well turned phrases in kind, for my long delay. But will restrict myself to one of inability, pure and simple. To explain. About the middle of March, I suddenly lost all power of my right hand, which caused me a rather curious sensation. I was getting ready for church on Sunday morning, and I could not conceive what was wrong. I went in to the kitchen and asked my housekeeper if she could explain it, but she was more put about than I was myself. Of course there was no church for that day. I went up on Monday to get the doctor's opinion. Be looked rather serious at first, asked my age, and if I had ever suffered from Rheumatism. I smiled and said, "I rather think I have. Almost every joint I have is cracking with it, a souvenir from the Crimea." Well! He said after questioning me a little. " You are getting up in years, and the heart action is not so strong as it once was, but I do not see any cause for alarm at present. And I think it will come all right by and by". And he gave a Tonic, and advised me to take a little Whiskey. At that I rebelled. "I know John", he said," What your objections are to it, but I really think it would do you good in the present circumstances, and I only ask you to take two teaspoonfuls occasionally". The doctor is an old friend. He was at school with me, and has been a brother elder in the same church with me for many years. So I consented to try it for a time. But I could not bear the Whiskey smell of my breath, and the Whiskey taste in my mouth, and gave it up. What a yarn! About two teaspoonfuls of Whiskey after eight or ten days, I began to regain the use of my hand, and I am pretty well now, the worst thing I am at is using a spoon or a pen. It is some time since I began this letter to you, and I can hardly say when it will be finished. I was sorry to hear, that your Aunt Catherine was so poorly. I only remember her as a laughing, romping girl when I was quartered in Stirling Castle, and your grandfather lived at the Raploch, a village at the back of the castle hill. But that stirs up old memories, and visions float before my mind's eye of your mother, your aunts Elizabeth and Catherine and your uncles Allick and Peter. And my own aunt, your good old grandmother. One generation goeth, and another cometh to replace it. I had another sensation since I wrote your last. I awoke one fine morning to find myself famous, as the saying goes. I do not remember if I told you. I had a brother George, who disappeared about 40 years ago, and never had any authentic word about him all that time. Well one day I was told that letters had been received by our own good Provost of Dunfermline, and also Mr Andrew Carnegie the American millionaire (who is a native of Dunfermline, and who my brother at one time said he had been at school with), making enquiries for the legal heir of George Scott Blelloch, a native of Dunfermline who had died in Montreal in 1897. Of course, rumour with her hundred tongues soon ran up a fortune to me, nearly equal to Carnegie's. His agent called me, got all the information I had to give that I heard no more about it. Our Provost wrote to Montreal giving my address, and told me that I would likely get the next letter. But Oh! what a collapse. The letter came from my late brother's deceased wife's niece, telling another sad story of the fearful effects of drink. George had been an official or something connected with the Grand Trunk Railway of Canada, and had saved a good bit of money. His wife died and he gave way to drinking, and for three years was hardly ever sober, was often robbed, and at last married a woman whom he met by chance. My informant said to the Provost that the widow held the property by fraud, perhaps I am wrong. But I rather think that she expected, ...
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