THE FARNDALE. 167 



moorland people. A few nights ago, keepers' game watchers, beaters, 

 and other friends held a " social " at the Crown Inn, Hutton-le-Hole, 

 when a very enjoyable evening was spent, toasts, songs and sentiments 

 being introduced in a rational and harmonious manner. " The Dorman 

 family and their shooting friends " was a toast that was received with 

 much enthusiasm, and duly acknowledged by one of the head game- 

 keepers. Among the many songs sung was " Do you ken John Peel," 

 the singer being a son of the late Jack Todd, Squire Shepherd's huntsman 

 in the days long ago. Young Todd gave the hunting cries, and there 

 was no mistake in the chorus with which the " moor-enders " followed, 

 much to the delight and astonishment of their friends. 



Harry Ward, who I believe followed Peacock, was a 

 good sportsman — is a good sportsman yet, though somewhat 

 alienated from the Farndale Hounds. A farmer, born in 

 the dale, and having followed the hounds from his boyhood, 

 he not only knew every inch of their country, but also not a 

 little regarding the habits of hill foxes, and just the very- 

 bit of moor to draw under certain conditions. These dales- 

 men are made sportsmen by force of circumstances. Isolated 

 as they are from large commercial centres or towns of any 

 description — where all amusement and excitement is quite 

 erroneously supposed to be alone found — they grow up with 

 nature, in their own crude way come to understand her, 

 and this knowledge has ever stood the huntsmen of dale 

 packs in good stead. Ward showed excellent sport during 

 the three years he had the hounds. There is an old York- 

 shire saying to the fact that " Him 'at f oilers t' hoonds 

 asteead o' follerin' ploo '11 seean nut hev a hoss ta foller 

 either," but I do not think this can be applied to the Farndale 

 huntsmen. Keen sportsmen as they always have been till 

 recent times, they seem to have shown more moderation in 

 their recreation and their cups than their contemporaries 

 in Bilsdale, with whom they had very happy relations at 

 this particular period. 



Mr. Harry Ward has often told me they had wonderful 

 sport in his day, and more foxes than are now found in the 

 country. Not unfrequently during the season he would ride 

 over and meet the Bilsdale, the two packs joining, and when 

 Robert Kitching was at the head of affairs with the Bilsdale, 

 Ward used to bring the Farndale to Swainby, stay all night 



