Lives in Cricket No 48 - Maurice Leyland

source of material. Former Yorkshire and Somerset all-rounder Tony Clarkson, who became a first class umpire, remembered Maurice in his retirement as a friend of his father Joe, a pre-war Nidderdale League cricketer. “Dad and Maurice would go down to the New Inn, at New Park, every Friday night, have a pint together and play crib,” he recalled. “I was with them one night and bought a round. Putting Maurice’s drink down on a nearby window bottom I asked him if it was all right there. “He looked at it, slowly raised his hand and reached out to touch it. Without moving the glass he then took his hand away and, as he put it back down by his side, looked back at me and said ‘Aye lad, it’s just on a length’. He was always saying funny little things like that.” Although Maurice’s economy with words was undoubtedly a trait of his father his sense of humour was something he particularly shared with his mother. Her scrapbooks were more comic books than they were cricketing archive. If she read something, or saw a cartoon, in the newspaper she would cut it out and paste it into her book. There is even a typed out poem on one page. So, sandwiched between a report of Maurice’s return to Yorkshire, to coach alongside Arthur Mitchell, and a photograph of him making a presentation at Birstall Congregational Church, where his cousin Maurice Kaye was the minister, was the following tale: PETE THE PIDDLING PUP A farmer’s dog once came to town, whose Christian name was Pete, his pedigree was ten yards long, his looks were hard to beat, and as he trotted down the road it was beautiful to see his mark on every corner, his work on every tree. He watered every garden gate and never missed a post, for piddling was his masterpiece - piddling was his boast. The city dogs stood looking on, with deep and jealous rage, to see this simple country dog, the piddler of his age. They smelt him over one by one, they smelt him two by two, but noble Pete, with disdain, stood still till they were through. Again they smelt him one by one, their praise for him was high, but when one Mum’s the word 48