Cyril Pattison, an ever helpful and always affable blacksmith, was making sparks fly this week.

He was smiling broadly as usual when I looked in on his new workshop following his enforced departure from the centre of Barnard Castle, where he was a notable fixture for 24 years.

He was dismayed when, at the age of 61, he lost his premises, in Commercial Yard due to a development project. He feared he might never find another suitable site and would end up taking early retirement. But now he has settled into a building offered by Johnny Cooke-Hurle at Westwood Farm, just up the brae from Startforth Park.

Cyril creates splendidly ornate wrought iron fences and gates, has a reputation for top quality welding. He is also a wizard at piecing together just about any kind of broken machinery.

"I'm really happy on the farm because my old customers still manage to find me, though I've never advertised," he enthused. "I had one man arriving on horseback to ask about a repair, and an old dear came in a taxi to get her garden shears sharpened. I did them for £1.50 while the taxi waited, to save her paying for another trip."

He is full of good words for his friend Andrew Ford, who used his tractor and some wagons to shift all his equipment to the farm in two hours. And he has no gripe about the handy compensation cheque he trousered for having to shift, though he asked me not to reveal the numbers written on it.

There can't be many residents left who remember the egg collections made in the upper dale during the First World War on behalf of wounded soldiers. A caller this week read me a newspaper cutting from June 1915 which recorded that Mrs J Collinson, of Bowes Close, and Miss Weedy, of Riggside, toured round Harwood asking for eggs for the troops.

The ladies were able to send 150 to the Northern Hospital in Newcastle, 170 to Darlington Hospital and 167 to The Northern Echo office. The newspaper staff forwarded this batch to more men injured on the fighting front, and presumably passed on others as part of the war effort.

I've heard of gloves, scarfs, blankets and food parcels being donated during the war, but surely it must have been particularly difficult to ensure that fresh eggs reached their destination without cracking or going niffy.

John Yarker, mayor of Barnard Castle, was jubilant when I met him in the street this week, as he had just witnessed a flurry of good-sized salmon moving up the Tees.

"I saw at least ten big ones leaping over the weir beside the town in the space of a few minutes," he reported. "It was a marvellous sight. Other people have seen a lot going over too. I'm not an angler but I'm sure the return of so many salmon must be encouraging news for the dale."

There are tales of the river being thick with the silvery creatures 60 and more years ago, and of crafty folk being able to wade in and grab one for a free, but illegal meal. The salmon all but died out in modern times, but the sight of so many is a pointer to the excellent work done to clear up industrial pollution in the estuary.

I HAVE been reminded of another advertising verse compiled by Richard Watson, the Teesdale Bard, back in the 1880s. It was for baking powder sold by chemist Ralph Raine, who had earlier used a Watson masterpiece to promote his fruit cordial. The new effort included the lines: No composition yet we can devise/For puddings, pastries, loaves, tea cakes and pies/Imparts such richness as this powder will/And adds so much to culinary skill.

There is no record of how this work of rhythmic art affected the sales of the baking powder, but many years ago an old timer told me that when mixed with water it was a sure-fire cure for indigestion, and was much cheaper than various impressively-named medical products marketed for this purpose.

* I'll be glad to see anyone who calls with snippets of news at The Northern Echo office at 36 Horsemarket, Barnard Castle, on Mondays and Tuesdays, telephone (01833) 638628.