Mrs C.F. Tudhope, M.A., LL.B., O.B.E., a former pupil formerly Warden of Mackintosh Hall, lecturer at Queen's College, and member of various public bodies. We are much indebted to her for the following vivid recollections of her school‑days at the Harris.

The Academy had a tradition of a quarter of a century of excellent teaching when I was enrolled in the Infant Department in August, 1910. All my schooldays were spent in the Old Harris and a happy school it was! Mr J. Barry Robb was Rector of the Academy during the whole of my time there and I have very pleasant recollections of him. Ever full of vigour and energy I recall him hurrying along the corridors and up and down the many staircases at incredible speed, always very formally dressed in striped trousers and morning coat, his coat tails flying behind him as he walked, and his rubber‑soled shoes making no sound and so giving no warning of his approach to the erring pupil.

Mr Robb was always ready to give encouragement, advice and assistance to all who went to him for guidance, and he gained universal admiration for the way in which he controlled the School during his long term of office which extended from 1909 until 1930. In most of the modern schools to‑day, spacious and fine rooms are provided as offices, and accommodation is set aside for clerical staff. It was not so in Mr Robb's time. His office was a very small room which he had to share with Miss Carnegie, his good and efficient clerkess, his large roll‑top desk took up the greater part of the space available, there was little or no room for files, books and papers, and when anyone came to see Mr Robb, Miss Carnegie had to withdraw, and she must have spent many a half hour in the draughty corridors and staircases of the school.

Mr Robb was most ably assisted in the administration of the Academy by Miss Sutherland, the Lady Superintendent of the Girls' School, a shy, gentle little lady, whom I remember as wearing a long brown skirt and tailored blouse, and she had a large bunch of keys attached to the belt at her waist, and these made a curious sound as she made her way along the long corridors.

Great was the excitement when the Coronation of King George and Queen Mary in June, 1911, brought to every pupil in the school a commemorative gift of chocolates in a gilt box bearing plaques of the new Sovereign and his Consort on the front of the box.

It was while we were in the Junior Department of the School that the Great War was declared and I have often thought of the strain these days must have been to the Rector and to the Staff, working as they were with depleted ranks and with troubled and anxious hearts. To thoughtless children, unable to comprehend the gravity of these dark days, it was something of a thrill to walk into school saluting all the soldiers and sailors in uniform as they passed along the street, and waving a greeting to the wounded who were being cared for by the V.A.D. in the Caird Rest in the Nethergate, which had been turned into a hospital for the casualties from the War front. The silent khaki‑coloured ambulance trains which came quietly into the West Station, and the dark blue ambulances conveying the patients to the Hospital were familiar sights in these anxious days. It was then, too, that we had to spend many hours laboriously knitting khaki scarfs and grey woollen socks for the soldiers at the battle front‑very different from the dainty garments now produced by the scholars. Whenever I think of those hours of knitting. I have a wave of genuine sympathy for whoever it was whose lot it became to receive the socks I knitted, for it was an absolute impossibility for me to make the second sock the same size as the first. But there was always an opportunity to write a little note of apology and good wishes and tuck it into the toe of a sock!

I remember well the shock in the school at the news of the loss of Lord Kitchener, the excitement in the class on the morning after the Zeppelins had been sighted crossing the Tay, and the interest of joining the queues of pupils making their first contributions to War Savings, where the money was paid to specially erected booths attached to Army Tanks drawn up in the Albert Square just beside the statue of Queen Victoria.

School days it seems now, passed leisurely, and life was simple and uncomplicated, but since then "the inaudible and noiseless foot of Time" has swept swiftly on. The former pupils of the Academy are scattered all over the world and are engaged in every walk of life, but one and all turn to the School with affection and interest, not without some regret for the demolition of the old School in Park Place with all its ramifications, and the school annexe in Dr Don's house, where there still stands in the garden facing the Perth Road the magnificent golden maple tree, affectionately known as "Gregory's Mixture", which brings beauty and delight to the citizens of Dundee each spring‑for there was transferred to the present building which houses the Academy, that warmhearted cheerfulness and kindly goodwill which have for so long characterised the School.