94 England's oldest hunt. 



garding some of his mounts — always sorry animals ere they 

 had been long in his possession. Mr. Scarth Dixon tells us 

 one which also demonstrates the fact that the old man wasted 

 no words over mock courtesy, and was ever to the point. 



During his day, hounds met at Kepwick, on the Hamble- 

 ton side of the country, and on one occasion a stranger met 

 them there. He was a man '"at went to see all t' packs o' 

 hoonds in England," said Bobbie, " an' he was mounted on a 

 fine tweea hundred pound hoss 'at was sadly ower good fur 

 him. He cam up ti me an' said : * Huntsman, you've got a 

 very poor mount,' an' Ah says, sez Ah, ' Whya sir, poor men 

 mun deea ez weel ez they can afford. Ah sail mebbe be 

 yabble ti hev a bit o' crack wi' ya efter t' run.' We found 

 i' Butcher Wood, an' hed a fast run. Just afoor t' end Ah 

 wur a bit i' front, an' t' saam chap cums up again, an' says, 

 'Ah saay, Ah mun mak apology fer what Ah sed this morninV 



Says I, 'Apology be d d, Ah haint time fur neea lip 



salvin' noo there's hoonds runnin' a mahl away.' Then Ah 

 left him an' at t' kill at Ampleforth he didn't draw up." 



Once Mr. P. J. Reid gave the old fellow a smart polo pony, 

 which was soon reduced to skin and bone, and one cannot 

 help but recall the pathetic lines by Mr. Barber Cartmell, 

 entitled " A Poor Old Horse." 



Bobbie had his last horse a year or two before his deaths 

 and came by it in a somewhat peculiar manner. Mr. H. W. 

 Selby Lowndes, the then Master, and his whip, John Boyes, 

 were returning from hunting on the Hambleton side of the 

 country, when a farmer near Sheepwash Beck asked if they 

 wanted any flesh for the kennels. Boyes asked if it was 

 alive or dead, and was informed it was " wick," and in the 

 shape of an old white pony running in the field close at hand. 

 It was decided that hounds should be taken that way at 

 exercise a day or two hence, when the pony would be bought. 

 The same week, Mr. Selby Lowndes and Boyes climbed 

 Scarth Nick and arrived at the farm. On seeing the hounds 

 the old pony cocked her tail and galloped round the field. 

 It seemed one of her ankles was wrong, and her fetlock was 

 on the ground when she stood. Eventually, five shillings 



