520 president's address. 



After leaving the Fairy Cupboards, a detour of one and a half 

 miles was made to the head of Deepdale, along which the party 

 walked to Barnard Castle — a beautiful walk it is, though some- 

 what longer than time permitted them to take leisurely — and 

 having to join the train at a certain hour, the dinner was some- 

 what hurried. The day, however, was a very enjoyable one, and 

 some young ladies, who went through the entire walk of ten or 

 a dozen miles, seemed as fresh as any of the party at last. 



The River Balder, Woden's Croft, and Thorsgill, suggested our 

 Scandinavian ancestry, who 



Gave their Gods the laud they won. 



Then, Balder ! one bleak garth was thine, 



And one sweet brooklet's silver line : 



And Woden's Croft did title gain 



From the stern father of the slain. — Rokeby, Canto IV. 



September 14 and 15. — Wooler and its neighbourhood was 

 the next meet of the Club, which unfortunately I could not per- 

 sonally attend. Twenty members left Newcastle at 9.5 a.m., 

 arriving at Belford at 11.30, from whence carriages took them 

 to Chatton and Chillingham. Near the latter, the party was met 

 by Mr. Jacob Wilson, agent to the Earl of Tankerville, who led 

 them across the fell to Chillingham Castle ; here, through the 

 kindness of the Earl of Tankerville, a splendid luncheon awaited 

 them, which was highly appreciated. Adjourning to the magni- 

 ficent park, a view of the wild cattle was obtained ; now a herd 

 of sixty-six, which possesses the singular interest of being, I 

 believe, the only herd in Great Britain, which has always 

 occupied the same ground as its progenitors. The heronry was 

 next visited, containing about a score of nests. 



There is something highly pleasing in seeing these old deni- 

 zens of the land surviving, and likely to survive ; and as painful 

 to see them gradually becoming extinct among us. It is scarcely 

 credible- — a dozen years ago it would have been quite incredible 

 — that I have not seen a magpie for four or five years. They 

 seem all to have been shot down by gamekeepers ; their quaint, 

 sidelong hop and rogueish cock of the head and saucy cackle, are 

 now seen and heard but rarely, and we cannot doubt that in a few 



