English wit and humor; English wit and humor, Pictorial; Golf -- Humor
"Is that allowed?" inquired our relative suspiciously.
"Oh, you may always do that and lose a stroke!" I assured her eagerly.
"I shan't dream of losing a stroke!" said Aunt Susannah, with decision.
"I'll get it out of this ditch by fair means, if I have to spend all day
over it!"
"Then do you mind waiting one moment?" I said, with the calmness of
despair. "There is a player behind us----"
"Let him stay behind us! I was here first," said Aunt Susannah; and she
returned to her bunker.
The Links rose up in a hillock immediately behind us, so that our
successor could not see us until he had reached the first hole. I stood
with my eye glued to the spot where he might be expected to appear. I
saw, as in a nightmare, the scathing remarks that would find their way
into the Suggestion Book. I longed for a sudden and easy death.
At the moment when Colonel Bartlemy's rubicund face appeared over the
horizon, Aunt Susannah, flushed but unconquered, drew herself up for a
moment's rest from toil. He had seen her. Amanda shut her eyes. For
myself, I would have run away shamelessly, if there had been any place
to run to. The Colonel and Aunt Susannah looked hard at each other. Then
he began to hurry down the slope, while she started briskly up it.
"Miss Cadwalader!" said the Colonel.
"Colonel Bartlemy!" cried Aunt Susannah; and they met with effusion.
I saw Amanda's eyes open, and grow round with amazed interest. I knew
perfectly well that she had scented a bygone love affair, and was
already planning the most suitable wedding-garb for Aunt Susannah. A
frantic hope came to me that in that case the Colonel's affection might
prove stronger than his zeal for golf. They were strolling down to us in
a leisurely manner, and the subject of their conversation broke upon my
astonished ears.
"I'm afraid you don't think much of these Links, after yours," Colonel
Bartlemy was saying anxiously. "They are rather new----"
"Oh, I've played on many worse," said Aunt Susannah, looking round her
with a critical eye. "Let me see--I haven't seen you since your victory
at Craigmory. Congratulations!"
"Approbation from Sir Hubert Stanley!" purred the Colonel, evidently
much gratified. "You will be here for the twenty-seventh, I hope?"
"Exactly what I came for," said Aunt Susannah calmly.
"Though I don't know what our ladies will say to playing against the
Cranford Champion!" chuckled the Colonel; and then they condescended to
become aware of our existence. We had never known before how exceedingly
small it is possible to feel.
"Aunt Susannah, what am I to say? What fools you must think us!" I
murmured miserably to her, when the Colonel was out of earshot looking
for his ball. "We are such raw players ourselves--and of course we never
dreamt----"
Aunt Susannah twinkled at me in a friendly manner. "There's an ancient
proverb about eggs and grandmothers," she remarked cheerfully.
"There should be a modern form for golf-balls and aunts--hey, Laurence?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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