Mr. Punch's Golf Stories
'is head. MisterSchwabstein kontrived to redooce 'is brassey to fragmints at the second'ole; and after that he took out 'is niblick, and nuthing wouldn'tperswade 'im to put it back. 'E drove wiv that niblick, and 'e played'is many shots through the green wiv it. And the way that thick strongniblick eat into the turf was enuff to brake the 'art of 'Enery Wilks.We moved slowly forward, leaving be'ind us a line of crewel deepkassims, which nuthink wouldn't fill up. And 'is stile of bunker playwas equilly distrucktive.
'Is noshun of getting out was to distroy the wall of the bunker wivreppeated blows, and then to force 'is ball throo the rewings. Iwouldn't 'ave belleeved that meer wood and iron could 'ave done the workthat that one German niblick did wivout turning an 'air.
'E only smiled 'is slow smile when Mister Brellett or meself venchured aremmonstrance, and 'e would never pick up 'is ball. 'E persevered wiveach 'ole until at last 'e 'ad pushed the ball into the tin, and then 'ewould turn and pat my 'ead wiv 'is large 'and. After the fust time Ijenerally dodged, and once 'e turned and patted Mister Brellett's 'eadby accerdent. Like most litterry jents, the latter is rather touchy, andthere was neerly trouble; but some'ow, thanks to Mister Schwabstein'sapparent onconshusness of offense, it was erverted.
At the thirteenth 'ole Mister Brellett was five up. Mister Schwabsteinput down a new ball, wiv a sort of groan, and pulled it wiv 'is niblickright rarnd into the rough. For a long two minnutes we 'unted 'igh andlow, but nowhere could we find that ball. If I'd seen it I would 'avehanded it over at once, sich being my boundin dooty. But I never did seeit. There was jest one little place in that rough where some'ow itdidn't seem worth while looking. We 'ad to erbandon it at last; andMister Schwabstein lost the 'ole and the match.
Later in the day I wandered down on a sort of ferlorn 'ope to that bitof rough, and kuriously enuff I walked bang on to that ball. There wasseveril courses open to me. I might 'ave 'anded it over to theorthorities, or I might 'ave kep' it as a memmentoe of MisterSchwabstein's unfaling jenerosity and kortesy. But 'Enery Wilks didn'tsee 'is way to doing either of them two things. 'E jest disposed of thatfine new ball to the very best hadvantage.
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GOLFING NOTES
"Denmark is the latest of the Continental nations to receivegolf."--_The Tatler._
But golf must have flourished at Denmark in Hamlet's time, judging bythe above reproduction of a very ancient mural decoration which has justcome to light.
See also quotation _Hamlet_, Act II., Scene 2:--" ... drives; in rage,strikes wide!"]
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ENCOURAGEMENT.--_Professional Golfer_ (_in answer to anxious question_)."Weel, no, sir, at your time o' life, ye can never hope to become a_player_; but if ye practise hard for three years, ye may be able totell good play from bad when ye see it!"]
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_Bertie_ (_to caddie, searching for lost ball_). "What are you lookingthere for? Why, I must have driven it fifty yards further!"
_Diplomatic Caddie._ "But sometimes they hit a stone, sir, and bounceback a terrible distance!"]
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_Old Hand._ "Ah, I heard you'd joined. Been round the links yet?"
_New Hand._ "Oh, yes. Went yesterday."
_Old Hand._ "Whot did you go round in?"
_New Hand._ "Oh, my ordinary clothes!"]
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GOLFING AMENITIES.
(_Overheard on a course within 100 miles of Edinburgh_).--_HopelessDuffer_ (_who continually asks his caddy the same question, with muchgrumbling at the non-success of his clubs_). "And what shall I takenow?"
_His Unfortunate Partner_ (_whose match has been lost and gamespoilt, at last breaking out_). "What'll ye tak noo! The best thing yecan tak is the fower fifteen for Edinburgh!"]
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THE PEDANTRY OF SPORT.--_First Golf Maniac._ I played a round withCaptain Bulger the other day.
_Second G.M._ When did you get to know him?
_First G.M._ Oh, about the end of the Gutty Ball period.
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_Cheerful Beginner_ (_who has just smashed the Colonel's favouritedriver_). "Oh, now I see why you have to carry so many clubs!"]
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Golfer]
TEE, TEE, ONLY TEE!
(_Song of the Golf Enthusiast. After Thomas Moore_)
AIR--"_Thee, thee, only thee._"
The dawn of morn, the daylight's sinking, Shall find me on the Links, and thinking, Of Tee, Tee, only Tee! When rivals meet upon the ground, The Putting-green's a realm enchanted, Nay, in Society's giddy round My soul, (like Tooting's thralls) is haunted By Tee, Tee, only Tee!
For that at early morn I waken, And swiftly bolt my eggs and bacon, For Tee, Tee, only Tee! I'm game to start all in the dark, To the Links hurrying--resting never. The Caddie yawns, but, like a lark, I halt not, heed not, hastening ever To Tee, Tee, only Tee!
Of chilly fog I am no funker, I'll brave the very biggest bunker, For Tee, Tee, only Tee! A spell that nought on earth can break Holds me. Golf's charms can ne'er be _spoken_; But late I'll sleep, and early wake, Of loyalty be this my token, To Tee, Tee, only Tee!
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Golf caddies are now very much in the public eye. The education of someof them is certainly not all that it should be. "Here's an honour forus!" cried one of them excitedly the other day, as he pointed to aparagraph in the paper headed, "King Alfonso visits Cadiz."
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THE SCIENCE OF GOLF
[A certain make of field-glasses is advertised just now as "suitable for golf-players, enabling them before striking to select a favourable spot for the descent of their ball." There can be little doubt that this brilliant hint will be further developed, with some such results as those outlined in the following anticipation.]
As I told Jones when he met me at the clubhouse, it was a year or moresince I had last played, so the chances were that I should be a bitbelow form. Besides, I was told that the standard of play had been soraised----
"Raised? I should just think it has!" said Jones. "Why, a year ago theyplayed mere skittles--not what you could properly call golf. Got yourclubs? Come along then. Queer old-fashioned things they are, too! Andyou're never going out without your theodolite?
"Well," I said with considerable surprise, "the fact is, I haven't gotone. What do you use it for?"
"Taking levels, of course. And--bless me, you've no inflater, orglasses--not even a wind-gauge! Shall I borrow some for you?--Oh, justas you like, but you won't be able to put up much of a game withoutthem."
"Does your caddie take all those things?" I asked, pointing to thecurious assortment of machinery which Jones had put together.
"My caddies do," he corrected. "No one takes less than three nowadays.Good; there's only one couple on the first tee, so we shall get away inhalf an hour or so."
"I should hope so!" I remarked. "Do you mean that it will be half anhour before those men have played two shots?"
"There or thereabouts. Simkins is a fast player--wonderful head foralgebra that man has--so it may be a shade less. Come and watch him;then you'll see what golf is!"
And indeed I watched him with much interest. First he surveyed thecountry with great care through a field-glass. Then he squinted along atheodolite at a distant pole. Next he used a strange instrument whichwas, Jones told me, a wind-gauge, and tapped thoughtfully at apocket-barometer. After that he produced paper and pencil, and wasimmersed apparently in difficult sums. Finally, he summoned one of hiscaddies, who carried a metal cylinder. A golf ball was connected to thisby a piece of india-rubber tubing, and a slight hissing noise wa
sheard.
"Putting in the hydrogen," explained Jones. "Everything depends upongetting the right amount. New idea? Not very; even a year ago you musthave seen pneumatic golf balls--filled with compressed air? Well, thisis only an obvious improvement. There, he's going to drive now."
And this he did, using a club unlike anything I had seen before. Then hesurveyed the putting-green--about half a mile away--through his glasses,and remarked that it was a fairish shot, the ball being within threeinches of the hole. His