Many young people of today have received the impression that life, for those of my childhood days, was dull and rather miserable. I deny it. The streets, lit by gas-light, were neither dull nor dark, for through the slats of venetian blinds there streamed forth beams of light, as in homes aspiring to gentility the girls of the family were taught to play the piano, and father and mother took care that practising was regularly undertaken. So, from many of the parlours overlooking the suburban streets, one could hear the strains of ‘The Robin’s Return,’ Silvery Waves’ and, with almost the inevitability of fate, ‘The Maiden’s Prayer.’ Among more advanced pupils, or those who presumed to stake some claim to a more cultivated musical taste, Brahms’ waltzes, especially his No. 1 was distinctly favoured.