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!!!_
* * * * *
ANOTHER LENTEN SACRIFICE.--_Golf Caddie (to Curate)._ "High tee, sir?"
_Curate._ "No; put it on the ground. I give up sand during Lent."]
* * * * *
_Voice from the Hill._ "Now then, you young coward, don't stand aboutall day. Why don't you _take it away_ from the dog?"]
* * * * *
_Boy (to young lady, who has been unfortunate enough to upset ColonelBunker)._ "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.
* * * * *
A golf case was recently before the Court of Appeal. Why not a GolfCourt on the links?]
* * * * *
GOLF VICTOR!
Sir Golf and Sir Tennis are fighting like mad-- Now Sir Tennis is blown, and Sir Golf's right above him, And his face has a look that is weary and sad, As he hastily turns to the ladies who love him, But the racket falls from him, he totters, and swirls, As he hears them cry, "Golf is the game for the girls!"
* * *
The girls crave for freedom, they cannot endure To be cramped up at tennis in courts that are poky And they are all of them certainly, perfectly sure That they'll never again touch "that horrible croquet," Where it's quite on the cards that they may play with papa, And where all that goes on is surveyed by mamma,
To golf on the downs for the whole of the day Is "so awfully jolly," they keep on asserting, With a good-looking fellow to teach you the way, And to fill up the time with some innocent flirting, And it may be the maiden is woo'd and is won, Ere the whole of the round is completed and done.
Henceforward, then, golf is the game for the fair-- At home, and abroad, or in pastures colonial, And the shouts of the ladies will quite fill the air For the links that will turn into bonds matrimonial, And for husbands our daughters in future will seek With the powerful aid of the putter and cleek!
* * * * *
Finis]
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.
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