THERE was no sitting of the Reeth Parliament over the weekend. The house had risen - possibly for the last time.

The bus shelter, overlooking the village green and squeezed beside a public toilet, still had its House of Commons sign - but its seats of local wisdom were empty.

However, across the road in the Buck Hotel the bar was overflowing, as local people said goodbye for the last time to a true Dalesman and the last of the lead miners.

For years, Fremmie Hutchinson and his ageing pals regularly put the world to rights as they discussed matters local, national and international in the simple stone-built shelter.

But at the age of 91, Fremmie supped the last of his summer wine - and local people turned out in force to pay their respects to the much-loved character.

St Andrew's Church, in the nearby North Yorkshire village of Grinton, was filled to capacity as up to 300 people, young and old alike, attended the widowed great-grandfather's funeral on Saturday.

The Reverend Tim Tunley recalled the life and times of Fremmie, from his early years in Arkengarthdale through to his happy retirement years.

He spoke of Fremmie's time as a farmer; of his war years in the RAF; of his love for and participation in music and sport; of his years of heavy toil as a lead miner; and his time as landlord of the famed Tan Hill pub.

The name Fremmie was short for Fremont, a name that came over to the family from the US four generations ago.

Mr Tunley said: "He may have been the fourth generation to have that name, but he was absolutely unique. There is no doubt that they broke the mould when they made Fremmie.

"Fremmie's life is a lesson to us all on how to live a life, a life of continually working hard, a life of friends and family - a man proud of life and achievements.

"Whenever we remember Fremmie, we should tell his story with a smile and a tear. A smile because we were so lucky as to know this person and a tear at his passing."

At the Buck Hotel after the funeral, relatives and friends did just that.

And at the nearby bus shelter, artist Mark Thompson remembered his old friend.

"Things will never be quite the same round here again," he said.