His look of apprehension vanished, and I continued, unfolding my blue-pencilled list of accomplishments:--"Listen: I am no organiser; my knowledge of French may be dismissed as negligible (this from the man with whom Jeanne Vincent had deigned to converse in her own tongue!); I profess no power of controlling my fellow-men; my mathematical ability isn't worth a rap, and, as to statistics, I neither tabulate nor co-ordinate them with any degree of readiness." Thereupon I bowed, with hands extended, as who should say, "You behold me; that's the sort of man I am." He smiled faintly. "Excuse me, but what _can_ you do?" "That," said I, "is for you to discover. If, when I shall have worked in your office for say three months"--he started--"you are unable to find any use for me, then you are not the kind of man I take you for." And I drew myself up, striking what I hoped was a dignified attitude. He stared at me for some seconds. "You have references?" he asked. "Of course," I answered, "but I know enough not to produce them till they are called for." Then he pressed a bell. "I am going," he said, "to introduce you to my manager. You have certain qualifications which I think may be useful to us." * * * * * [Illustration: _Member._ "WHAT'S THE BEEF LIKE TO-DAY? IS IT EATABLE?" _Club Waitress._ "SOME SAYS IT IS AND SOME SAYS IT ISN'T; BUT YOU NEVER CAN GO BY WHAT PEOPLE SAY."] * * * * * [Illustration: _Bored Little Girl._ "AREN'T YOU NEARLY CLEAN NOW, MUMMY?"] * * * * * THE ESSENTIALS OF GOLF. "Do you know anything about golf?" I asked Pottlebury by way of making conversation with a comparative stranger, and immediately afterwards knew I had made a mistake. I should have inquired, "Do you golf?" or "Are you a golfer?" and no evasion would have been possible. "I should think I do," he replied. "I suppose there's hardly a course between here and Strathpeffer that I haven't visited. English and Scottish, I know them all." "And which is your favourite course?" "That is a difficult question," he remarked judicially. "Only last night I was arguing about the comparative merits of Westward Ho! and St. Andrews. Both are easily accessible from the railway, but if you take your car the latter is to be preferred. You get your life bumped out of you on those North Devon roads." "I wasn't thinking of the travelling facilities," I observed coldly. "No, of course. It's what you find at the other end that counts. Well then, travelling aside, there is much to be said for Sandwich. The members' quarters are comfortable--very comfortable." I must have made a disparaging gesture, for he immediately continued:-- "But, if it's only lunch you want, I advise those Lancashire clubs round Southport. They know how to lunch in those parts--Tweed salmon, Welsh mutton and Whitstable oysters." "No doubt your judgment is correct," I replied, "but I----"