MR. THOMAS PARRINGTON. 231 



were clinkers. I had good sport, and when we finished up we had 

 some of the best hounds to drive a fox that ever ran. I used to breed 

 them for nose and tongue, not for show purposes. I liked light-coloured 

 hounds for our country, those that could hunt two days a week and be 

 always fit for our hilly country, where, if you could not burst a fox in 

 the first ten minutes, you stood a poor chance of catching him. I had 

 a couple and a half of hounds which took after their sire, old Dashwood. 

 When they got anywhere near their fox their hackles went up, and I 

 could always then feel confident we were running close at him ; then 

 was the time to ride if you wanted to be in at the kill. Those hounds 

 were always at work, and the question was, not ' which way has the fox 

 gone ? ' but ' which way have hounds gone ? ' They could hunt a 

 fox and kill him with any pack, and never be sick or sorry. Mr. Par- 

 rington could tell you of a light-coloured hound or two that I had, 

 Countess and Careless, for instance, from the Bilsdale. I had some 

 good litters from Careless, which went to Captain Johnstone's when I 

 gave up." 



It was a matter of deep regret to Mr. Parrington and to 

 Mr. Smallwood when, owing to a combination of adverse 

 circumstances, which have no place here, the Eskdale 

 became extinct, and the hounds went to all parts of the 

 world. 



So one finds Mr. Parrington wherever he went taking a 

 deep and active interest in the sport around him, nor is 

 that interest diminished one whit to-day, though he has 

 passed his eighty-eighth year. A wonderful life has it been, 

 almost unique in its connection with sport and agriculture. 

 Would he but write an autobiography it would be one of the 

 most interesting and educative sporting volumes ever pub- 

 lished, though I doubt not neither one or two, nor three, 

 volumes would be spacious enough. What an evolution would 

 we be able to trace since first Mr. Parrington commenced to 

 enjoy sport with the dear old Cleveland Hounds, in what 

 he not unnaturally designates the " good old days." As he 

 took us from season to season, from country to country, and 

 we marked that gradual change in almost everything con- 

 nected with fox-hunting, I imagine we, too, should long for 

 a return of those old times for many reasons, and I fancy 

 that we should discover the evolution in many respects a 

 retrogression. I cannot do better than conclude my notes 

 on the life of this veteran than by quoting the following 



