In the distance someone cries Some remark about my eyes, None too pleasant, I surmise, From the tone; So away my steps I turn Till a figure I discern, Who is mouching by the burn All alone. He has lost a new "Eclipse," And a little word that slips From his sulky-looking lips Tells me true That, besides the missing ball, Which is gone beyond recall, He has lost--what's worst of all-- Temper, too. I conclude it will be best If I leave him unaddressed, Such a melancholy quest To pursue; And I pass to where I spy Clouds of sand uprising high Till they all but hide the sky From the view. They proceed, I understand, From a bunker full of sand, Where a golfer, club in hand, Freely swears As he hacks with all his might, Till his countenance is quite As vermilion as the bright Coat he wears. I observe him for a while With a highly-tickled smile, For it is the queerest style Ever seen: He is very short and stout, And he knocks the ball about, But he never gets it out On the green. Still I watch him chop and hack, Till I hear a sudden crack, And the club-head makes a track In the light-- There's a startled cry of "FORE!" As it flies, and all is o'er!-- I remember nothing more Till to-night, When I find myself in bed With a lump upon my head Like a penny loaf of bread; And methinks, For the future I'll take care When I want a little air, That I won't go anywhere Near the Links. [Illustration: Punch] * * * * * [Illustration: THE MISERIES OF A _VERY_ AMATEUR GOLFER He is very shy, and unfortunately has to drive off in front of the lady champion and a large gallery. He makes a tremendous effort. The ball travels at least five yards!] * * * * * [Illustration: _Golfer._ "And what's your name?" _Caddie._ "They ca' me 'breeks, but ma maiden name is Christy."] * * * * * [Illustration: "Mummy, what's that man for?"] * * * * * [Illustration: DISTINCTION WITHOUT DIFFERENCE.--_Sensitive Golfer (who has foozled)._ "Did you laugh at me, boy?" _Caddie._ "No, sir; I wis laughin' at anither man." _Sensitive Golfer._ "And what's funny about him?" _Caddie._ "He plays gowf awfu' like you, sir!"] * * * * * [Illustration: Jones cannot see his ball anywhere, although he is positive it fell about there somewhere.] * * * * * [Illustration: Caddie] NEVER HAVE A CADDIE WITH A SQUINT! (_A Lay of the Links_)