THE Penguin Book of Journalism, recently published, contains an essay entitled What Columnists are Good For. Whilst it must not be confused with the piece preceding it - Alan Clark: Why I Hold Journalists in Low Regard - there are doubtless those who would imagine the chapter to mirror that in Len Shackleton's autobiography on the average club director's knowledge of football. The page was completely blank.

Possibly because he himself is a columnist, Stephen Glover devotes ten pages to buttering his theme. Editors like to employ columnists, he says, because they form "a kind of intellectual praetorian guard".

Thus armed, onward...

IT was in Wales, land of her fathers and of roads with verdant grass down the middle, that we found a few hours to read again of the joys of journalism.

Lord Beaverbrook claimed to pity anyone who wasn't a journalist, and would have had a point but for the Monday morning after a week's holiday.

E-mails, answering machine messages and old fashioned missives with the queen's head in the corner queue cantankerously for consideration. Over the entire correspondence course, however, there are but two invitations. Both are for next Tuesday evening.

At St Augustine's primary school in Darlington, a history of the 150 years of the Roman Catholic diocese of Hexham and Newcastle will officially be launched. It is a handsome and worthy volume. Wine and nibbles, adds the invitation, will be provided. At the Castle Eden Brewery near Hartlepool, a panel of distinguished journalists - and one or two manifestly of the other sort - has simultaneously been invited to test the prototypes for a new beer, to be called Nimmos 3XXX. The exercise is so crucial that tasters are asked to refrain from cough mixture, smoky bacon and Gauloises cigarettes from the previous midnight.

Because it may also involve substantial consumption, taxis will be provided in both directions. If there is nibbling, it will be from the fatted calf.

It is a dilemma - body or soul - which not even old Beaverbrook could have contemplated. The acceptance, and the regrets, are in the post.

HEADING homewards down Wensleydale, we spotted on a village notice board a letter from William Hague in response to Bainbridge WI's concerns about the rural postal service. The Conservative leader apologised for the four-week delay in replying - "for some reason, your letter has only just been received by my office".

ANOTHER of these columns - an At Your Service on St Aidan's church in Chilton - revealed last September that our two favourite words were serendipity and euphony.

Serendipity means the knack of making happy discoveries by chance, a sort of serendipity squares. Euphony is an agreeable sound - euphonium has the same root - and is also applied to the rhythm of writing.

In May, at any rate, Sir Bob Geldof launched a search of his own to find the nation's favourite word. Among the 13,000 who have voted, the top ten - in alphabetical order - are bollocks, elephant, hope, Jesus, joy, puddle, quidditch, rainbow, serendipity and sex.

The Observer, however, reveals that the fight for first place is between serendipity and quidditch - the school game played in the Harry Potter books.

The result is announced this week. Whilst the smart money may be on quidditch, serendipity always has a chance. You read it here first, of course.

A COUPLE of weeks back we chewed on Famous Amos cookies, about an inch and a half across but very big in America. Now we not only discover a Christian charity called the Amos Trust but that September 23 is Amos Day. The Trust's website is revealing. "Amos thinks small," it says. Welcome to the family.

THE same chap who brought back the family cookies has also sent details of a new competition - the TFM/Magic Challenge - at Darlington Football Club. The prize is a new Vauxhall. It's child's play.

All the winner has to do is buy a 50/50 lottery ticket for £1, be the fourth number drawn, tell a steward within two minutes and then hit a "designated" area of the crossbar three times with three shots from three markers - about 30 yards away.

In case it gets just too simple, present or former professional or semi-professional footballers are excluded.

Curiously enough, no one yet seems to have won.

SIMILARLY straightforward, The Times crossword made itself somewhat trickier the other day by - as we noted at the time - putting Darlington in Yorkshire.

Clive Wilkinson received an invoice from a Kent sports equipment firm addressed to him in Langley Park, Co Durham, Yorkshire. It was for the Hill Billy Golf Trolley, of course.

PROBABLY there's a limit to how much currency you can get out of a column on Scottish bank notes, but Michael Hunt from Low Pittington, near Durham, returns boldly to the subject.

Hitherto, it may be recalled, we had taken the view that whilst legal tender in Scotland such notes were merely "acceptable" south of the border.

Based on the Practical Quiz Book by J G Barton, however, Michael set the following in his local pub league - and caused much controversy.

Are Scottish bank notes legal tender in England? Are English bank notes legal tender in Scotland? The answer in both cases was No. Scottish bank notes, the book added, weren't even legal tender in Scotland.

Never short-changed, we rang the Bank of England. Mr Barton is right: neither Scottish nor Northern Irish notes - issued by three banks in Scotland and five in Ulster - are legal tender anywhere.

"They circulate freely and are generally accepted in their respective countries because there is confidence in them" says a spokeswoman - but for every note issued, the banks must hold Bank of England currency to the same value.

"The concept of legal tender is very quirky and narrow in law," adds the spokeswoman. "People may be entitled not to take them, but we don't encourage, not even on the last bus to Darlington."

LATE news, as they say in proper journalism. Brian Henderson of Darlington was fourth out of the "Win a Vauxhall" hat at the recent Quakers v York City match, was described on the public address as a "Grandad" and duly stepped up for his three kicks.

The first hit part of the bar, the other two missed. Mr Henderson, however, may have been that way before - a Feethams legend, he made 422 Football League appearances between 1952-63, scored just three times but probably hit the bar every other match.

There is another reason, of course, why there won't be a new car in his drive. Hendo was 70 in June.

For the moment, at any rate, that's all today's column is good for.

The intellectual praetorian guard is shuffling off back to the barracks.