In the year 1735, Francis Barlow, Esq. of Middlethorp, near York, who kept a pack of beagles, was at Harrogate, and liking Metcalf, gave him an invitation to spend the winter at Middlethorp, desiring him to bring his horse: the invitation was gladly accepted, and he went out with Mr. Barlow’s hounds twice a week, highly gratified in the enjoyment of his favourite sport. While at Middlethorp, he was invited by Mr. Hebdin, an eminent musician, of York, to come to his house, and play, offering him, gratis, any service or instruction in his power: this kind offer Metcalf readily accepted, and went to practice music on those days when there was no hunting. He had now completed a visit of six months to the worthy ’Squire of Middlethorpe;—and the hunting season being almost over, he proposed to his patron to take a farewell hunt in the forenoon, intending to proceed to Knaresborough in the evening.—He accordingly set out with the hounds in the morning; returned with the ’Squire at noon; got himself and his horse well fed and _watered_, and then proceeded to York, to take leave of Mr. Hebdin, previous to his going home. He had learned to walk and ride very readily through most of the streets of York; and as he was riding past the George Inn, in Coneystreet, Standish, the landlord, stopped him, calling out “What haste?” Metcalf told him he was for Knaresborough that night—The landlord replied, that there was a gentleman in the house who wanted a guide to Harrogate; adding, “I know you can do that as well as any one.”—“So I can,” said he, “but you must not let him know that I am blind, for perhaps he will be afraid to trust me.”—“_I_ shall manage that,” replied Standish; so going in, he informed the gentleman that he had procured him a safe guide. Pleased at this, the gentleman requested that Metcalf would come in and take a bottle: this (for an obvious reason) the landlord objected to on the part of Metcalf, but recommended some wine at the door; during the drinking of which, the stranger got ready, and they set off, Metcalf taking the lead. As they were turning Ousegate corner, a voice halloed out “_’Squire Barlow’s Blind Huntsman!_” but the gentleman not knowing the meaning of this, they rode briskly up Micklegate, through the Bar, turned the corner to Holgate, and through Poppleton Field on to Hessay Moor, and so proceeded forward, going over Skip-Bridge. (At this time the turnpike was not made between York and Harrogate.)