222 Reminiscences of a 



Old John Elliott of White Hurworth was a queer old 

 beggar, and not a bad sort either, being a rare sportsman 

 weighing twenty stones. He used to make a special dish of 

 boar ham, which, as a rule, is not very good for the teeth, 

 but by rapid feeding he made it more tender, and I remember 

 Dr. Blandford and Mr. Tom Ford calling there and having 

 a dish of boar ham one cold, snowy day after a good run 

 from Quarrington Hill to Monkhesseldon Dene. Many years 

 ago old John Elliott used to breed and sell a lot of pigs 

 and he was once paid for some entirely in coppers because 

 he wouldn't bate a bit in his price or give any " back 

 money." The amount was several pounds. I don't know 

 why, but the mention of old John Elliott's name has brought 

 to my memory one Robert Wilson, the cobbler of Bishop 

 Middleham, to whom Mr. Harvey gave an old horse. 

 " Bob " Wilson, as they all called him, was a notorious fox- 

 hunter, and told wonderful tales of the sport in his own 

 style, but it really only did for those who knew no better. 

 Claxon used to be a bit taken in by his stories, but I 

 always said that there was a good deal of " blash " about 

 him. Just such another was old Tom Bowran of Ferryhill, 

 an old mole-catcher, with a rare slippery tongue. 



And now I think that my story is done. I have taxed 

 my memory fairly well, but with the assistance of diaries, 

 etc., think that the facts and dates are pretty correct ; still 

 it has been a kind of " resurrection " for me after being dead 

 to hunting for nearly fifteen years. I have been groom, 

 gardener, and brickmaker during that time, and now after a 

 short spin in the hunting field again, and once more having 

 had my " phiz " taken in full hunting costume, I must make 

 my bow and retire to a less exciting sphere. It is my hope 

 and trust that I have said nothing to wound the feelings of 



