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between the two huntsmen. In the August of the year in 

 which he died, Jack Parker played a single wicket match 

 which was described in the local press. Jack being desig- 

 nated " Huntsman," his partner " Salts and Senna " (L. 

 Olden), and their opponents " Soda Water " (J. Harrison), 

 and " Toll Booth Keeper " (James Clark). The match took 

 place on the hills at Kirbymoorside, a large gathering being 

 present. Jack and his partner won by an innings and 10 

 runs, to his great delight. 



He was an all-round sportsman, as " The Falcon," a 

 journal published some years ago at Thirsk, pointed out : — 



" He enjoyed watching a coek fight, a badger hunt, or a pigeon 

 shoot, at many of which he took part with his old flint gun. In summer, 

 too, he was fond of otter hunting, the music during the course of which, 

 he said, was the finest he ever heard. His wife was quite as enthusiastic 

 as he in matters sporting. Nanny, too, was quite a character, and 

 truly a helpmate to her husband. Many a time, after a hearty meal, 

 he would fall asleep, tired out with his day's hunting, and his wife 

 would light the candle. in the horn lantern and strap down his horse 

 quite as well as he could have done it himself. She helped him, too, 

 to gather up the hounds when that duty devolved upon him. Once a 

 lady living in the neighbourhood met her followed by one or two couple 

 of hounds, and leading a young one. Expressing surprise at seeing 

 her thus engaged, Nanny replied, " Di ya think Ah's yan o' them 

 wimin 'at sits at yam an' leeaks pretty all daay lang, an' diz nowt ? " 



Nanny was by no means beautiful, but she had a very 

 kindly face, I am told. She pre-deceased her husband by 

 some years. 



Jack Parker had a good voice, and it became almost a 

 simile in the Sinnington country, " Thoos shootin' ez though 

 thoo was Jack Parker vie win' a fox away." He was a close 

 observer, harsh was he occasionally, but he acted on the 

 principle of " makking yance deea," and when he got a hound 

 by the stern it was in for a drubbing — there were no half 

 measures. But he was fond of his hounds, and though he 

 did not perhaps judge from the standard which is in 

 vogue to-day, still he had a pack which could find, run, 

 and kill a stout moorland fox in good style, and one 

 which had a great cry. Music was, in his eyes, a 

 pre-eminent virtue. It is unfortunate that few of the 



