A caddie who's a duffer, or a caddie who gets drunk; A caddie who regards all other caddies as his foes; A caddie who will snigger when you fumble, fail or funk; A caddie who will whistle, or seems ever on the doze; A caddie who's too tiny, or too big and broad of bulk; A caddie who gets playing with your clubs upon the sly; A caddie who will chatter, or a caddie who will sulk; All these are calculated a golf devotee to try; All these are most vexatious to a golfer of repute; And still more so to a novice. But just take a friendly hint! Take a caddie who's a duffer, or a drunkard, or a brute, _But never try a caddie with a squint!!!_ * * * * * [Illustration: ANOTHER LENTEN SACRIFICE.--_Golf Caddie (to Curate)._ "High tee, sir?" _Curate._ "No; put it on the ground. I give up sand during Lent."] * * * * * [Illustration: _Voice from the Hill._ "Now then, you young coward, don't stand about all day. Why don't you _take it away_ from the dog?"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Boy (to young lady, who has been unfortunate enough to upset Colonel Bunker)._ "You'd better ride on before 'e gets 'is breath, miss!" _Young Lady._ "Why?" _Boy._ "_I've 'eard 'im play golf!!!_"] * * * * * A GROWL FROM GOLFLAND Bores there are of various species, of the platform, of the quill, Bores obsessed by Christian Science or the Education Bill, But the most exasperating and intolerable bore Is the man who talks of nothing but the latest "rubber core." Place him in the Great Sahara, plant him on an Arctic floe, Or a desert island, fifteen thousand miles from Westward Ho! Pick him up a twelvemonth later, and I'll wager that you find Rubber filling _versus_ gutty still and solely on his mind. O American invaders, I accept your beef, your boots, Your historical romances, and your Californian fruits; But in tones of humble protest I am tempted to exclaim, "Can't you draw the line at commerce, can't you spare one British game?" I am but a simple duffer; I am quite prepared to state That my lowest round on record was a paltry 88; That my partner in a foursome needs the patience of a Job, That in moments of excitement I am apt to miss the globe. With my brassy and my putter I am very far to seek, Generally slice to cover with my iron and my cleek; But I boast a single virtue: I can honestly maintain I've escaped the fatal fever known as Haskell on the brain. * * * * * [Illustration: A golf case was recently before the Court of Appeal. Why not a Golf Court on the links?] * * * * * GOLF VICTOR!