Chapter L: V. B. Your experience coincides with that of many people. Putting

cannot be taught; not because it is too hard, but because it is too easy. It is like instructing a duck in the art of natation.

* * * * *

After a round of golf a man might acquire a reputation for originality by announcing, in the locker room, that “at this time of year the shower bath is the best part of the game.”

* * * * *

“I must have looked up,” said our friend, A. E. D., as he replaced a divot. And he added: “Why don’t we have a list of such remarks, numbered to save time?” “Why not, indeed?” said we, who are nothing if not helpful. And so we offer a short list which golfers may extend as they wish:

1. “I must have looked up.”

2. “I tried to knock the cover off.”

3. “I should have used an iron.”

4. Omitted to avoid confusion with “Fore!”

5. “High like a house.”

6. “Some drive, that!”

With such a list agreed on, when a man topped his driver he would merely ejaculate, “Two!” and sit down.

* * * * *

All true golfers believe in a golf hereafter. Brand Whitlock was okaying St. Andrews with a famous “pro” who remarked, of a certain putting green, that there was none larger or finer, and Whitlock’s aged caddy added: “Not in this world.”

* * * * *

One of the pleasures of playing golf at Old Elm is a notable absence of small bets in the matches such as a ball a hole or a piffling “syndicate.” Old Elm golfers play for blank cheques.

* * * * *

A gentleman writes us that our look-at-the-hole theory works all right in practice, but breaks down in actual play. We beg to assure him that that is his fault not the theory’s. The test of every stroke is what you do with it in practice, when the muscles are relaxed and you function almost mechanically.

Frexample, the Worthington Ball Company does not employ a crack golfer to test its products; it has a mechanical driver at its plant in Ohio. If the ball flies straight they know it is perfectly round; if one brand flies farther than another, they know that that is the longest ball. There is nothing “psychological” about it.

FAR FROM THE M. C.

The Thrasher, on a leafless bough
High in a maple tree,
Pours forth, as only he knows how,
A song of ecstasy.

The sunbeams thro’ the branches sift
Upon the putting green,
Aloft the fleecy cloudlets drift,
The morning is serene.

In town strong men are in the heat
Of party politics;
The air is filled with “Lie” and “Cheat,”
And other verbal tricks.

The Thrasher sings for song’s own sake;
I share his ecstasy.
I have a longish putt to make,
And hole it for a three.

* * * * *

As bearing on the great obsession we may note that of the twelve volumes added to the library of the Union League Club of Chicago, “since the last report,” eight were about golf.

* * * * *

Casually glancing at a ladies’ tournament, we observed that while the follow-through of the players was open to criticism, the show-through was perfect.

* * * * *

When a lady golfer cries “Fore!” the safe thing to do is to step between her and the flag and call, “Shoot!”

* * * * *

An English writer having asserted that golf is a nerve-wrecking game, the Interstate Medical Record welcomes discussion of the subject, as a change from the eternal debate on sex and neurasthenia. Now, for several years, we have made a rather close study of golf and golfers, and we are well assured that golf as a health-giving recreation is a greatly overlauded institution.

We will consider, now, only the person with a nervous temperament: for him, golf is decidedly not a restful game. The failure to bring off a shot that he knows perfectly well how to play, due to the refusal of the muscles to obey the instructions of the mind, sets up an irritation conscious or subconscious, that more than offsets the good derived from a round on the links.

If golf works this way on a man who knows why he bungles a stroke, imagine what it does to the man who can’t tell what ails him, and must make periodic visits to the golf doctors to have his affliction diagnosed.

* * * * *

The best thing about golf is that it cultivates patience and perseverance. But so does the telephone.

WE SYMPATHIZE AND UNDERSTAND.

Sir: I feel that I have an indisputable right to wail at your wailing place. I am being ridiculed and relentlessly persecuted by various amateur golfer friends because, forsooth, I have dared to defend your theory of k. y. e. o. t. h.

Please assure me of at least your sympathy and understanding.

R. E. P.

P. S. I do not golf.

* * * * *

Much may be made of a golfer if he be caught young. After he has played a few years, you can’t tell him anything.

* * * * *

Speaking of “golf and athletic sports” a dispatch from New York mentions “precious stones and jewels.”

THE TRAINING OF CADDIES.

Sir: Didn’t that English writer who implied that we were committing an economical sin by training caddies to become a class worthless except as boys of burden, exaggerate things somewhat? Frinstance! At Jackson Park one day a caddie made a perfectly good nurse girl while the father and mother of the child played eighteen holes of golf. I can vouch for this, as I was nearby when the brave bag-bearer decided that pushing a baby buggy was not beneath his dignity.

R. H. C.

* * * * *

A sure-fire recipe for cooling off:

Eighteen holes of golf.
One long cold shower.
One long cold ginger ale (flavored).

* * * * *

Jackson Park society note: Applications for lockers at the Golf shelter clubhouse should be made to-day—Mr. Jim McGinnis will assist in receiving the guests, and the weather man has promised to pour.

* * * * *

Query by the _Golfer’s Magazine_. “Does golf cause men to neglect their wives?”

Not being a golfiac, we cannot say, but if the answer is in the affirmative, the wives must be singularly unattractive.

* * * * *

Is there another bore comparable with the man who is just learning golf? He bores the friend who was so foolish as to show him the game. He bores the good souls who are kind enough to play around with him. He bores his family and all his acquaintances. And finally (if able to view himself objectively) he bores himself.

* * * * *

If we had not made a vow never again to parody “The Ancient Mariner” we might easily turn one on the golfiac who holds you with his glittering eye. But it would be a shame to do it.

* * * * *

“When you have practised with your mashie on the various golf courses around Chicago,” writes L. T., “and have hit a foot behind the ball and splashed mud all over you and into your mouth, have you ever decided which are the best tasting links?” Well, we fancy the Skokie pot bunkers, though the Glen View links are uncommonly rich. We usually eat with a niblick.

* * * * *

It may not be possible to write an interesting baseball story in ordinary English but it is possible in the case of Golf. The articles by Mr. Darwin in the W. G. N. are uncommonly interesting. He was not long in discovering that American players are weak with their irons, as any one with half an eye can see. This weakness is due to over swinging and to lack of instruction. Visit any golf club and watch the members play. Men who have played for years are content to dub around in ninety something. It is pathetic. The self-taught golfer moves us to tears.

* * * * *

Golf in itself is not an important thing, but if a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well. It is worth doing gracefully, too, unless nature has denied a man all sense of rhythm, which seldom happens.

UPLIFTING THE CADDIE.

Gratifying is the response to the inquiry, “What should be done to occupy, instruct, or amuse the caddie during the long waits?”

Sir: What shall be done is asked, to occupy, amuse or instruct the caddie during the long waits? Why, teach them to caddie, of course! One of ’em, at the Homeward links, planted himself at the side of each green, and whistled “On the Mississippi” while we were trying to putt. Obviously, it can’t be done—to that tune!

F. D.

F. W. P. “During those long waits, sift the caddie for golf balls. I think I know where you can get a new one if you hurry.”