JOHN STARKEY 65 



huntsman for many years to Mr. Farquharson, until he 

 also resigned his post as Master of the Dorsetshire 

 Hunt. 



We often met at the hospitable board of his brother- 

 in-law, John Starkey, of Spye Park, an excellent sports- 

 man, as well as most entertaining host, with an almost 

 inexhaustible fund of anecdotes derived from John 

 Warde, with whom he had lived on very intimate terms 

 whilst hunting in the Craven country, for several seasons, 

 previously to residing at Spye Park. This was my half- 

 way house, whenever our appointments were made for 

 that district ; a bed was always provided for me, and a 

 most hearty welcome ; and when calling to mind the 

 genuine hospitality of fox-hunters in those times, it 

 seems that with them has passed away also that social 

 intercourse, unfettered and unrestricted by the formalities 

 of the present age, by which country gentlemen and 

 fox-hunters of the old school were so particularly 

 distinguished. 



Of Dr. Starkey also, my friend's father, I have every 

 reason to speak in the highest terms, as equally hos- 

 pitable, clever, and entertaining ; and at his house I 

 had first the pleasure of meeting Tom Moore, the poet, 

 who resided in the neighbourhood. Not far distant, at 

 Bremhill, resided also another eccentric poet, Bowles, 

 of whose absence of mind and vagaries of imagination 

 many stories were told. His chief mode of locomotion 

 being on horseback, he was met one day by a friend, 

 walking leisurely along the road, book in hand, with 

 the reins of his bridle hanging on his arm, and the head- 

 piece with the bit trailing on the ground behind him. 



" Why, Bowles," exclaimed his friend, *' what has 

 become of your horse ? " 



