The great golfing professors are stolid and silent when the strain of the round holds them; but once it is over, the spirit of camara-dene is abroad and the "nineteenth hole' becomes a bee-hive of good-natured banter and humour. "All Square" of the "Glasgow Record" has made this collection of stories from the lips of the profs. at Gleneagles.
George Duncan.—During one of the rounds in a championship at Washington, where nigger boys, noted for their obligingness, are employed as caddies, a player drove a ball into the wilds. When he came up, he found it in a desperately bad lie. Gee, that is bad, boy, isn't it?" he observed to the caddie. "Yah, it am bad, sir," responded the caddie apologe tically; "but I couldn't do nothing, sir; the odder boy watching me de ole time."
H. Taylor—An old Scots caddie, who carried frequently for a minister notorious for losing his temper and the use of unparliamentary language, was asked to what denomination his clerical employer belonged. "Is he an Bpiscopalian or a Presbyterian?" "Na, nane o' these," answered the old caddie, "I rather think ho's one o' thee Profanitarians."
Joe Kirkwood.—I once asked a Jady, "What did you go round in?" "Tu my skirt and usual underwear," was her reply.
Arnaud Massy.—Once when I was playing Jimmy Braid at essay, and we were having a hard game, I puts a tee shot right On to a green, just two feet from zo hole. Jimmy, he puts his high up on a cliff over zo green, and I turns round to him and says, "Got you this time, Scots Jimmy"—I always calls him Scots Jimmy. Then Jimmy, he got up to zo cliff, takes a look down, goes back to zo ball, and hits it. The ball comes trickling down over zo cliff on to the green, and then up and into the hole. And I just looks up and says, "Yow Scots thief, you!"
Jock Hutchison—Two American players were coming up to the last here "all square" in a match. One belted the bail wildly into the rough. Both thereupon started searching for the missing ball. After a while the player who had mis hit his shot shouted exultingly, 'Here it is; I have found it." 'Have you? that's queer,' answered his opponent; "I've been standing on your ball for the last 15 minutes,"
James Braid.—Taylor and I were playing at Cromer, where there was a very large and enthusiastic crowd. From the edge of. the green Taylor sank a long putt. Among the cheers which followed the shot heard the voice of an old lady saying, "Oh, poor man! Such a nasty hole his ball has got into!'
Ben Sayers.—An American chauf-four came into my shop at North
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.