"Because I won't be wearing 'em any more." "H-m-m! Too small, maybe?" "No; they fit all right. Fact of the matter is, Jasper, I'm sick of this game and I'm going to quit it." Jasper's eyes oscillated rapidly. "Aw, no, Misteh Coyne!" said he in the tone one uses when soothing a peevish child. "You jus' _think_ you goin' to quit--tha's all!" "You never heard me say I was going to quit before, did you?" demanded Coyne. "No, suh; no." "Well, when I say I'm going to quit, you can bet I mean it!" Jasper reflected on this statement. "Yes, suh," said he gently. "Betteh let me put them things back, Misteh Coyne. They in the way here." "What's the use of putting 'em back in the locker? They're no good to me. Make a bundle of 'em and give 'em to the poor." "Mph! Po' folks ain't wearin' them shawt pants much--not this season, nohow!" "I don't care what you do with 'em! Throw 'em away--burn 'em up--pitch 'em out. I don't care!" "Yes, suh. All right, suh. Jus' as you say." Jasper rolled the heap into a bundle and began tying it with the sleeves of a shirt. "I'll look afteh 'em, suh." "Never mind looking after 'em. Get rid of the stuff. I'm through, I tell you--done--finished--quit!" "Yes, suh. I heard you the firs' time you said it." The negro was on his knees fumbling with the knot. Something in his tone irritated Coyne--caused him to feel that he was not being taken seriously. "I suppose a lot of members quit--eh?" said he. "Yes, suh," replied Jasper with a flash of ivory. "Some of 'em quits oncet a month, reg'leh." "But you never heard of a case where a player gave all his clubs away, did you?" demanded Coyne. "Some of 'em _breaks_ clubs," said Jasper; "but they always gits new shafts put in. Some of 'em th'ow 'em in the lake; but they fish 'em out ag'in. But--give 'em away? No, suh! They don' neveh do that." "Well," said Coyne, "when I make up my mind to do a thing I do it right. I've given away every club I owned." Jasper lifted his head and stared upward, mouth open and eyelids fluttering rapidly. "You--you given yo' clubs away!" he ejaculated. "Who'd you give 'em to, suh?" "Oh, to the caddies," was the airy response. "Made a sort of general distribution. One club to each kid." "Misteh Coyne," said Jasper earnestly, "tha's foolishness--jus' plain foolishness. S'pose you ain' been playin' yo' reg'leh game lately--s'pose you had a lot o' bad luck--that ain' no reason faw you to do a thing like that. Givin' all them expensible clubs to them pin-headed li'l' boys! Lawd! Lawd! They don't know how to treat 'em! They'll be splittin' the shafts, an' crackin' the heads, an' nickin' up the irons, an'----" "Well," interrupted Coyne, "what of it? I hope they do break 'em!" Jasper shook his head sorrowfully and returned to the bundle. While studying golfers he had come to know the value placed on golfing tools.