Nigh the brig I drove a bonny shot, My second was the marrow o't, The third gaed in--I holed in three, As proud as Punch, I skirled wi' glee; And swaggerin' fou, and fit and fettle, Was wild to back my skill and mettle; And, madlike, shouted out aloud, You might hae heard me doon the road, 'Od! I'd play the very Deil himsel', Auld Nickey Ben, red wud frae H--l.' I heard a laugh! Was I mistaen? I thocht I was my lief alane, But turnin', near me stood a man, A strappin' chiel, wi' clubs in han',-- Lean-shankit, extra tall and spare, Wi' goatee beard and jet-black hair. 'Good evening, Skipper,' says he sprightly, Liftin' his cap to me politely. 'You want a match, I'll gladly play you For a hundred pounds, what say you?' 'You do me proud,' says I, astounded, My wits had left me quite confounded. 'Man, a hundred pounds, I hae nae got, I'm but a Caddie, poor my lot; To play you I am proud and willin', But I ne'er gang beyond a shillin'.' 'Oh, d--m your shilling!' says he so fine, 'Why, don't you see, your sure to win-- You are a strong, well-known professional, And play a game that's quite sensational; While my performance is but poor, That of a first-class amateur. But player good, I stand confessed, Who plays 'gainst me must play his best. But if you're shy, why odds I'll give you, A stroke a hole, will that not tempt you? And should I have the luck to win (He said this with a leering grin), Why what so simple, you engage To serve me faithful without wage, And as my Caddie with me stay Until your little debt you pay. Service with me will never tire you, Besides I like you and admire you.' Softly he spoke, while sweetly smilin' Like lover simple lass beguilin'; Then from his pooch a purse he pulled, A purse with golden guineas filled; The meshes thro' I saw them bright Glitterin' in the gloamin' light. 'Look, Skipper see these yellow boys, The source and fount of human joys; With them you grasp the dear delights Of festive days and glorious nights.' Dazed, dazzled, fou, and half-demented, Oh, Jocky! I was sairly tempted. No wonder that I soon consented, And muckle less that I repented. But to my tale--'All right,' says I, 'A bargain be it, I comply; A stroke a hole--I tak' your offer, Altho' you treat me like a duffer.' For troth I felt no little nettled To find my good game so belittled. But, Skipper, you have yet to tell What he was like, this bloomin' swell.