CORBY CASTLE AND WALKS.
N the race days at Carlisle, which occur shortly after Midsummer, a great number of Excursions are generally made to the most beautiful or noted parts of the county. Issuing out with a large party with one of these, we, with many pleasant friends, left the flushed, bustling, far-travelled throng of our usually sober city, for Corby. The morning had been showery and unpromising, but at noon–our hour of starting–the clouds cleared off, and from the clear blue of the open sky, fell the full, far-sweeping rays of the gladdening glorious sun. Under its pure beautifying glory we started on our way, the rich scythe-waiting meadows, the densely-foliaged trees, and the sheets of fresh and apparently fadeless flowers beneath them, and stretching their long trails into every nook of nature, giving the first taste of that hallowing joy which nature never fails to give to those who love her. So passing Durran Hill Cottage, the clean, quiet, well-to-do village of Scotby, and the pretty new Station at Wetheral, we came to Corby Bridge, where we alighted. Right on we passed through the village, clean and trim and bright with roses and carnations–which spread
