Golf stories, English; Golfers -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English
DIVOTS
P. G. WODEHOUSE
By P. G. WODEHOUSE
CARRY ON, JEEVES!
HE RATHER ENJOYED IT
BILL THE CONQUEROR
GOLF WITHOUT TEARS
JEEVES
LEAVE IT TO PSMITH
MOSTLY SALLY
THREE MEN AND A MAID
INDISCRETIONS OF ARCHIE
THE LITTLE WARRIOR
A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS
DIVOTS
BY
P. G. WODEHOUSE
[Illustration: NEW YORK]
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1923, 1924, 1925, 1926 AND 1927,
BY P. G. WODEHOUSE
[Illustration]
DIVOTS
--B--
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO
MY DAUGHTER
LEONORA
WITHOUT WHOSE NEVER-FAILING
SYMPATHY AND ENCOURAGEMENT
THIS BOOK
WOULD HAVE BEEN FINISHED
IN
HALF THE TIME
PREFACE
Before leading the reader out on to this little nine-hole course, I
should like to say a few words on the club-house steps with regard to
the criticisms of my earlier book of Golf stories, _The Clicking of
Cuthbert_. In the first place, I noticed with regret a disposition
on the part of certain writers to speak of Golf as a trivial theme,
unworthy of the pen of a thinker. In connection with this, I can only
say that right through the ages the mightiest brains have occupied
themselves with this noble sport, and that I err, therefore, if I do
err, in excellent company.
Apart from the works of such men as James Braid, John Henry Taylor and
Horace Hutchinson, we find Publius Syrius not disdaining to give advice
on the back-swing (“He gets through too late who goes too fast”);
Diogenes describing the emotions of a cheery player at the water-hole
(“Be of good cheer. I see land”); and Doctor Watts, who, watching one
of his drives from the tee, jotted down the following couplet on the
back of his score-card:
_Fly, like a youthful hart or roe,
Over the hills where spices grow._
And, when we consider that Chaucer, the father of English poetry,
inserted in his Squiere’s Tale the line
_Therefore behoveth him a ful long spoone_
(though, of course, with the modern rubber-cored ball an iron would
have got the same distance) and that Shakespeare himself, speaking
querulously in the character of a weak player who held up an impatient
foursome, said:
_Four rogues in buckram let drive at me_
we may, I think, consider these objections answered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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