But it appears to my poor wit That we might well contrive A means by which the merest babe Would hold his own with MITCHELL (ABE), If we could have a standard _hit_ (Especially the drive). I want a limit made to bar The unrestricted whack (A hundred yards I think should be The length on which we might agree), And if you pushed the ball too far You'd have to bring it back. And I should love a standard _lie_. A ball inside a cup Or latent under sand or whin Hampers my progress toward the pin; It would improve my game if I Could lift and tee it up. But most, when tongues of golfers wag, Talking their dreadful shop Of rotten luck and stymies laid And chip-approaches, TAYLOR-made-- Oh, then I want a standard _gag_ To make the blighters stop. O. S. * * * * * =THE LANGUAGE FOR LOGIC.= "Very well," I said, "if Jones is laid up I'll go round myself." Our French visitor chuckled quietly and then shrugged his shoulders by way of apology. "Pardon," he murmured with the most disarming politeness, "but your English language it is so veray funny, and I 'ave not yet become quite used to it. Is it not that it lack the accuracy, what you call the logic, of the French?" "Indeed," I said, without the least interest. But my wife was all enthusiasm. She clapped her hands in delighted agreement. "M. du Val is quite right, Dickie," she said. "We are a frightfully illogical lot, aren't we? I mean, the French are able to say just exactly what they mean." "Your reinforcement, Madame, it completes my victory," replied the Frenchman with a graceful gesture. "_Voyez, M'sieu'_," he added, turning to me, "you 'ave just said zat your friend is laid _up_, when the unfortunate truth is zat he is laid _down_, and because of zat you will encircle, surround, make a tour of your person." "There, you see," said my wife flatly, "it's all utterly illogical. Think how logical the French are." "Well, let us work it out," I said in hearty agreement. "As a start I solemnly declare that the French are not so logical as they don't think." "As they _don't_ think?" repeated my wife in surprise. "Ah!" I retorted, "you are not so observant as you might not be. I was merely giving you a little French idiom, 'logically' and 'accurately done into English.'" "Mister," I next asked our ally, "your visit to England, will she be prolonged?" "Who's the lady?" interrupted my wife. "M. du Val's visit, of course, dear," I informed her. "You forget that the French are particularly logical with their genders." "M'sieu'!" murmured the guest, rather puzzled. "I asked," I went on for M. du Val's edification, "because if you stay long enough you may have the pleasure of meeting the parents of Mistress my wife. They are coming to the house of us next month. His father is extremely anxious to see her daughter, whom he has not seen since his wedding--"