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The Humor of the Game

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THE HUMOR OF THE GAME

By A. W. TILLINGHAST





A YOUNG English professional, who but re-

cently arrived in America, tells this story.

One evening he had remained until a late

hour with a brother pro' at the latter's club and after

small talk appropriate to the hour they prepared to

go their respective ways.

"I'll go ye a roond o' th' links in th' morn, Wullie,"

challenged Jamie.

the customary "Wee Deoch an' Doris" had been "In th' morn?" Willie replied dubiously , scratch-

followed by "just one more," "the last"; and then the ing his head.

"very lastest," the two tipplers, arm in arm, started "Aye—th' morn. Ye're no' afeart, are ye Wullie?"

out into the night for home. "Na, na! I'm no' afeart!" flashed "Wullie,"—









Officer (commanding skirmishing party). "Very sorry to put you off your game, Sir; but we had to come across here."

Golfer. "Don't mention it, Sir. It makes me feel I've done my bit."—From Punch.





They had quite forgotten that in the neighborhood "I'm no' afeart, an' I'll go ye a roond in th' morn, but

there was a training camp for recruits and they I had thocht o' gettin' buckled—marriet ye' ken—in

suddenly found themselves facing the bayonet of a th' morn."

sentry. ———

"What do you want?" he demanded. The eminent Professor was giving a lesson on the

"I'll take Scotch" replied the local pro'. application of force to some of his young gentlemen.

——— They were on the links.

"Fine shot, Alice! Fine shot!" exclaimed the "I cannot understand," said he, "why unreflecting

dutiful husband, whose wife, who partnered him in minds attach so much difficulty to processes that in

the mixed foursome, had just driven off. Then he reality are very simple."

edged over to her caddie and whispered hastily— "I hold in my hand a little white sphere of com-

"Where in hell did it go?" posite construction. It is exceedingly resilient and

——— therefore unresisting. The force required to overcome

One fine evening two Scotsmen met and after the its inertia is not great. In order better to illustrate



41

G O L F I L L U S T R A T E D

Now, as I did watch the ball, I did ask Professor John Dunn

a question which he did answer thereupon, to wit:—"Suppose

then the ball doth hit the bull's-eye, is it then a true drive?"

He did answer "Yea." I then did ask:—Suppose the ball, when

hitting the bull's-eye, doth spin in such way that if prolonged,

as upon an open golf course, it would go to the left or right?"

To which he did reply:—"Then verily, it is no true hit." And

thereupon I did argue that a scholar might hit said bull's-eye

many times and yet in all those hittings not drive a true or straight

ball down the course; so that he might during all these winter

months learn to hit ten thousand bull's-eyes and yet, to his

surprise, not be able to drive straight upon the course when he

came to play outdoors in the month of May. "Verily," John

Dunn did reply, "the scholar will learn the correct stance, mo-

tions, holding of the hands and fingers, carrying of the head,

and keeping the eye fixed upon the ball. The causing the ball

to fly straight will come to him later on."

Now truly these things be necessary to the novice at golf,

and for a small price he may take much exercise, which is good,

and he may have a shower bath afterwards should he so choose.

I did conclude that such exercise once or twice each week was

altogether most excellent for the novice, though whether it would

benefit ye olden tymer, I have some doubt.

I proceeded in good time to another bin or net work alley

where a lady was studying the Art of the Approach. Certain

pockets in the net work were so arranged to catch the ball,

my contention I will place it on this slight elevation high—low—right—or left. She did play right capably, and

of sand—so!" seemed well satisfied with her work, stating several times to her

"Now I hold in my hand an instrument of peculiar lady companion who stood nearby, "I shall surely give Mistress

construction but which, I may venture to say, is B.—our champion—a monstrous surprise next summer." The

attendant did often praise her skill, stating that Mistress Ravens-

admirably adapted to the purpose for which it is

croft could not do better. Presently, the lady did put on her cloak

intended. It consists of a long, slender, tapering and walked out, her nose high in the air, believing herself on the

shaft, attached at its smaller end to a very curiously high road of fame, at the game of golf. But when I considered

shaped head, which, in order to increase the mo- that, though she hit the ball well, she did not control the same,

mentum, is liberally supplied with lead." as it would—in real play—fall or be dropped upon the green, or

"The demonstration before us, young gentlemen, nearby—I realized that she had no well grounded reason for her

great self-esteem. The lesson, however, as I could easily dis-

requires that we swing this instrument in such a cern, afforded her great bodily and mental benefit, and there-

manner that its head will be brought in contact with fore I did determine to urge my wife to take lessons each week

the ball and send the latter forcibly in a required (albeit, she doth not need lessons in self-esteem) for she hath

direction—all quite simple, you will agree, notwith- complained bitterly of late of indigestion, for the cure of which,

to my great distress, she hath taken to eating leeks.

standing its supposed psychological difficulties. We

On the putting green I myself did essay putts of some

will proceed to a practical illustration." twenty-five feet in length, over a thick green cloth of Dutch

The Professor proceeded, swung, missed the ball make, giving the outward semblance of grass. This cloth was

completely, and fell over backwards into the bushes not made flat or level as are most indoor greens, but was cun-

behind the teeing ground. ningly contrived with a small hillock in the center which caused

the ball to wobble and to run in many and divers directions—

"Pipe d' old guy, tryin' t' give golf lessons!" very

and most difficult it was to enter the hole. I did essay it some

audibly commented a small caddie in a nearby group fifty times with most indifferent success, after which I did quit

which had been observing the proceedings in awe. the golf school much depressed, and, remembering an especial

"Say, Bo! yuh gotter keep yer lamps on d' ball!" new style coffee-pot my wife did greatly desire as a Christmas

——— gift, did retreat into the cellar of the storehouse, where I made

purchase of the same.

INDOOR GOLF December twenty-fifth. To the Ritz, where I brought my

Diary of our Samuel Pepys wife and six of my children, as it was Christmas Day, for a game

December twenty-fourth. To Moneymaker's storehouse where of indoor golf, and seeing many well dressed dames and many

I did ascend by lift to an upper story, and by picking my way handsome coiffures in the coffee room, my wife did begin to

through a dense forest of furniture did find at last the golf course lament and cry out that I had not purchased a new bonnet or

presided over by John Dunn. Here the student of golf who is gown for her since Whitsunday—to the which I made reply that

not satisfied with nine months of golfing under blue skies and rain in War times economy was to be preferred, and she did answer

bearing clouds, may perfect his several strokes, approachings that I had always some ready excuse. Seeing her thus growing

and putts by a winter course of training. peevish, I did seek out the golf school of course, and presently

Here I did see a large fat man with huge paunch essay to Mr. Prattle, a dapper young man of the hostelry, informed me

strike many times at a ball laid upon a new door mat, and at that I had come upon the wrong day. I did then proffer to him

last hit the same so that it flew into a net work, and so fell harm- a fine cigar, and presented him to my wife and children, and we

less upon the floor. He did essay to hit a certain bull's-eye or did sit and talk golf (of which I never tire) and listened to the

target upon the net work, and after many trials, did succeed, music and watched the minuet with great enjoyment.

greatly to his joy and satisfaction. (Continued on page 44)



42

44 G O L F I L L U S T R A T E D

THE HUMOR OF THE GAME

(Continued from page 42)

Mr. Prattle did tell us of his great plans for winter golf—

how that among his clients or scholars were many gentlemen of

large fortunes, who had been requested to raise a fund of many

million dollars, so that a real golf course (if so be the money were

forthcoming) might be placed upon the roofs of many tall build-

ings adjacent to the Ritz—a hole upon each roof. He informed

us that the owners of nine such buildings had given their con-

sent, so that, when the course was fully complete, a player could

tee upon the roof of the Ritz, thence drive to the green upon the

roof of the Grand Central Palace, thence to the roof of the New

Club of Elihu Yale—where a collation would be provided—

thence to the roof of Scrivener's Warehouse—then to the Uni-

versity Club roof—where a learned professor of Latin and Greek

would welcome him—thence to the Hotel St. Regis, where

cigars and tobacco would be provided—at a slight expense.

Mr. Prattle did then enumerate four other roofs until he

was back again at the Ritz without a mishap. My wife did

inquire most sensibly—how would the players convey them-

selves from roof to roof? And was answered:—"mayhap by

aeroplane—but these minor details are not fully completed."

Being non-plussed at this, I did venture:—"Surely, you would

not invite our rich citizens to contribute to such a hazard?"

To which he made answer:—"They are used to subscribing to

strange hazards." Moreover, he did laugh loud and long—

proclaiming that it was Christmas Day and the Season of Joy.

Whereupon my wife and I took our departure homeward,

much upset by reason of doubt and misgiving.

Alexander Macpherson

———

I know of a man who, although good-natured

enough ordinarily, permits his golf to irritate him to

irascibility. He is a kind-hearted man and one day

his conscience smote him as he observed the tears in

his caddie's eyes. The boy was not altogether to

blame for the wild slice which had been lost far over

in the rough and the dressing down, which he received,

was unwarranted. Admitting this to himself, the

player handed the boy an extra "quarter" after the

round, and now he wonders why his caddies are so

exasperating. They court scoldings at "so much per

scold."

It suggests the experience of a well-known, elderly

Metropolitan golfer at Pinehurst some years ago.

One day his drive landed squarely on the head of a

negro caddie. Nothing short of an ax would have

really made an impression on that skull, and the

player was an exceedingly light hitter, too, but the boy

dropped to the ground, declaring that he was killed.

However, a silver dollar wrought a miracle in re-

surrecting the dead. For some days the players at

Pinehurst witnessed a most unusual spectacle, for

whenever Mr. E's shots were coming to earth, there

waiting, would be all of the black boys in the vicinity,

jostling each other and leaping into the air in the

endeavors to effect a contact of wool with gutta

percha—at a dollar per kill.

This reference to the negro caddie of the South

recalls a conversation.

"Now, Sam," said the Judge in a Southern city,

to his colored caddie, who by the way was past his

adolescence—"I want you to watch this shot very

closely—There!—what did I do wrongly then?"

(Continued on page 46)

46 G O L F I L L U S T R A T E D









THE HUMOR OF THE GAME

(Continued from page 44)

"Yo, sho nuff throw up yo' haid, Jedge!"

"All right, Sam; watch me again."

"Yassah.—Haid still ez er possum, Jedge; but

yo's got de ol' habit ob liffin' yo' eyes ergin."

"My old habit of lifting my eyes again? Why, you

black rascal, what do you know about me lifting my

eyes?"

"How Ah know?" giggled Sam, "yo' all's liffin yo'

eyes now, des er way yo' liff 'em at me atter Ah had

been foun' in de Cunnel's chicking coop, an' yo'

says—sixty days, nigger! Call de nex' case!"

(Continued on page 49)

G O L F I L L U S T R A T E D 49



THE HUMOR OF THE GAME

(Continued from page 46)

"Do you know, Jock," said the Colonel—

"it's not to be wondered at my picking up

the game so quickly. I've got just a little

Scotch in me."

"Aye, Colonel, I ken it weel, and by th'

pairfume it's no' a little—but a pint, jist."

———

"Do you live far from here?" inquired a

golfer of the old fellow who had been

caddieing for him in North of Scotland.

"About foor miles, Sor," replied the old

fellow. Then he added, "An' I walk foor

miles every time I'm awantin' a drink o'

whusky, Sor."

"Four miles for a drink of whiskey! Why,

my man! Why don't you keep a bottle in

your house?"

There was mild amazement in the Scot's

face as he replied, simply—"Whusky won't

keep in th' house, Sor!









The Eccentricities of Attitude!



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