There can't ever have been many properties in Teesdale with better terms for tenants than six small almshouses on a prime patch of land in Romaldkirk.

Tom Vlaming, who lives in the village, showed me a copy of the rules set out for the six occupants in the early 1800s.

They had to be poor, single and aged over 60. But, once in, they were well looked after. They all lived rent-free, and were given £2 a year to help them buy coal, peat, turf or other fuel.

In addition, they were given an extra ten shillings every two years to buy a nightgown to keep them warm in bed in winter. They had to be honest, good and of Godly behaviour, and were expected to attend religious services midweek as well as on Sundays.

They also had to be indoors by 7pm in winter and 9pm in summer. And they could be fined a penny if they did not keep the place tidy.

The six tiny houses were reduced to three and doubled in size in 1962. There is now a lot of local interest, along with some disagreement, over a proposal to convert them into two larger units.

A hospital was built on the site in 1674, thanks to the generosity of William Hutchinson. It was rebuilt in 1829 as the almshouses, which have been administered by a charitable trust. One point that seems certain is that, however many tenants there are in future, they won't be given free nightgowns.

Neville Kirby will be missed by many music enthusiasts in Teesdale when he lays down his baton after conducting his final concert for Gainford Choral Society in the village's parish church tomorrow.

He has been in charge of the village singers for 26 years, during which he has raised their standard to a high level.

They have performed in the US, France, Germany and Russia, as well as all over the North-East.

While he has guided the choir through many difficult pieces by great composers, he seems just as much at ease at the other end of the musical range.

He played in a skiffle band as a young man, and I once saw him teaching Beatles songs on guitars to teenage prisoners in Deerbolt Young Offenders Institution.

After he led a singalong on his accordian at a gathering in the Witham Hall, he told the audience that a gentleman is someone who can play the accordian but doesn't.

But this former policeman and teacher is certainly a gentleman and a true musical all-rounder.

An election campaigner said on TV the other day that some families in Britain are still on the breadline, but it isn't the sort of line that was known in Barnard Castle for more than a century.

A man called Matthew Hutton left £120 in his will in 1726 to enable bread to be handed out to poor folk after Sunday services. It was used to buy some land at Startforth, which was rented out and the income spent on loaves.

Ten acres at Morton Gill Leases and four acres at Little Moor were acquired first. An allotment and cottage were added later, and all this brought in £30 a year. By 1880, ten shillings a week was being spent on 30 loaves costing fourpence each. Then it was decided to spend fivepence (2p in today's coins) on each loaf, and reduce the number given out.

At that price the ten shillings bought only 24, so presumably six poor souls had to make do without their weekly bread handout.

The Daily Mail joked this week about President George Bush's niece, Lauren, going out with a wealthy fellow called David Lauren. It pointed out that if they marry she will become Lauren Lauren. Many years ago this sort of thing happened in Barnard Castle when a woman became Rose Rose. I seem to remember that she lived on The Bank.

* 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.