English wit and humor; English wit and humor, Pictorial; Golf -- Humor
It was a Toosday morning, and the course was quite disserted, excep' for
Mister G., 'oo was waiting to start a practice rarnd wiv 'is pashunt
teecher. Which is me. And then a new member come along 'oo was wishfull
for a game, and dirrectly I set eyes on 'im, somethink, hinstink, I
suppose, seemed to tell me that 'ere was the man for 'oom I 'ad been
waiting.
'E was French, and I shall not attempt to rite 'is name, the 'ang of
which I never reely kawt. 'E was a small, darkish, jornty man, and 'is
garmints was a little briter and more cheerfull-looking than you see in
England. 'E wore, among uther things, a deer-storker 'at wiv a fevver
stuck in it. But 'is manners was reelly bewtifull. It was quite a site
to see 'im click 'is 'eels togevver, and bow to my himployer, and in a
minute they 'ad fixed their match. I 'ad 'inted to Mister G. that 'e
must hinsist on 'aving a stroke an 'ole, and that was 'ow they settled
it. I never lerned what the Frenchman's 'andicap was, but if the
Champyon 'isself 'ad offered to take strokes from 'im 'e would 'ave
closed gladly wiv the offer. And yet there was reelly nuthing erfensive
about the little man.
I could see as 'ow pore old Mister G. was trimbling wiv a sort of
serpressed egsitement, and I wispered to 'im that 'e must play steddy
and use the niblick whenever possibul. The niblick, from long practice
in the bunkers, is 'is club.
Me frend, Chawley Martin, was the Frenchman's caddie, and 'e took
ercasion to remmark to me that we seemed in for somethink warmish. I
checked the boy wiv one of my glawnces, and then we waited while 'is
hemployer took the 'onner. That jentleman danced up to the tee, waving
rarnd 'is head the longest and the bendiest driver that I 'ave ever
seen, and 'e didn't trubble to address the ball at all. 'E just sprung
at it and 'it it wiv all 'is might, and somethink fairly wistled past
Chawley's 'ead as 'e stood a little be'ind the tee box. The Frenchman
'ad sliced at rite angels, and for anythink I know 'is ball is still in
the air. Certingly, we never saw it agin.
That slite misforchune appeered to egsite and dimmoralise Chawley's
himployer, 'oo may 'ave been quite a brillyent player on 'is day, and I
may say at once that 'e never reelly found 'is game. On the uther 'and
it seemed to put new life and vigger into Mister G. Our erponent was
appariently trying 'ard to do each 'ole in a brillyent one, but we was
quite content to win them in a steddy nine.
We 'ad our misforchunes, of course. 'Is deerest frend wouldn't 'ardly
say as 'ow Mister G.'s game is a long one, and each bunker seems to 'ave
a sort of magnettick attrackshun for 'is ball, but whilst the
Frenchman's brassey remained unbroken we knew that there was allus a
chawnce for the 'ole. For 'arf the rarnd it stood the crewel strane and
then it didn't break. It jest seemed to sort of dissolve into small
peaces. But we was two up by then and our tails was 'igh in air.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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