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All in a moment those two young wimmen grew frendly agin to each other and konsentrited all their rage and spite on 'Enery Wilks. They fell upon me wif their tungs, and I felt as though I was being 'it wif barbed wire and nettels. They called me "impudent little boy," me the chosin 'ero of the yunger caddies, and I could only garsp and trimble. Their crewel thretts brought [Pg 40] tears even to my proud eyes, and I almost beleeve as 'ow I grovvellel before them.
It 'urts me to remember it. When at last they 'ad tired themselves out, they finished their rarnd as though they 'ad never 'ad an unkind thort towards each other, and I slunk be'ind them, dased and silent, like a puppy 'oos been kicked. Little Albert always thirsting for knowledge. After the smash. The above caddie in the course of his third round with Colonel Foozle, who always takes out a collection of two dozen clubs, if only for the look of the thing begins to doubt if he, the caddie, really belongs to the idle classes, as stated in the papers.
Golf Player. Don't you know where the ball is. Please, sir, that there dun cow 've swallered it. Miggs and Griggs, who have got away for a week-end holiday, have strayed on to the golf links, and have been watching the colonel, who has been bunkered for the last ten minutes—and the language!. Yumin nachure is a kurius thing. I dunno whether this thort 'as okkurred to other peeple, but I sees the truth of it more clearly every day.
You may studdy a man fer weeks and think as 'ow you know 'im inside out, and then, when you try to make some use of 'is pecooliarities, they ain't working that day, or else some little hannoying trifle spiles your well lade skeems. Mister Glenwistle is an oldish jentleman now, but in 'is day 'e 'as been a famus eggsplorer. Jeograffy never being my strong point, I dunno egsackly where 'e went eggsploring, or why 'e did it.
Chawley Martin, 'oo's jenerally 'is caddie, is my hinformant, and some days 'e will 'ave it that Mister Glenwistle would once 'ave reached the Pole if 'is boots 'adn't guv out, and at other times 'e hinsists that it was Africer that 'e visited.
I dunno, meself; per'aps the old jentleman 'as been [Pg 46] to both them regins in 'is time. But any'ow all is agreed that once 'e lived for nearly three weeks upon an oldish poodle dawg—which is an orfull thort. Sich an eggspeerience must leeve its mark upon any man, 'owever strong. It 'as left its mark upon Mister Hoctavius Glenwistle. Every blade of 'air 'as vannished from 'is skalp, and 'is face is a sort of dark brick colour wif light eyebrows.
I dunno whether it's the sunstroke, or whether it's 'is ondying remorce for that pore faithfull poodle, but Mister Glenwistle suffers terrible from absentmindedness. One Sunday lately 'e came down wif a frend for an 'ole day's golf. Chawley Martin, as yusual, was 'is caddie, and I ondertook the manidgement of the frend. Pga championship player odds All went well in the morning, excep' that Mister Glenwistle fell into a sort of dream upon the seventh green and 'ad to be rarsed by Chawley.
It may 'ave been Eskimo that 'e spoke to the boy when 'e'd touched 'im jently on the arm, but it sounded wuss—much wuss. Whilst they're still laying into the grub like winking, I and Chawley Martin, 'aving eaten our own frugil meal, sit down near the 'club-'ouse and begin to polish up their clubs. We fell a-talking about the great science of golf, getting quite 'eated in a little while, and at last Chawley, to illerstrate 'is own mistakin theery, gets upon 'is 'ind legs.
I was afeard 'ow it would be. The length of the club mastered 'im. You could make use of 'is absentmindedness and let 'im think as 'e broke it 'isself. It's a fair sportin' chawnce," I ses. And so we left it. I didn't see the meeting between Mister Glenwistle and 'is well-meaning caddie, becos my klient sent me to get him a ball, but when I came back I seed as 'ow Chawley was sniffing slightly, and 'is large outstanding ears was reddened.
It just shows as 'ow you can't depend on nuthing in this world. Did you do as I told you, winning smile and all. Anuther time you can keep your winning smiles and your fat-'eaded hadvice to yourself, 'Enery Wilks. I didn't answer 'im, remembering 'ow 'is 'uge progecting ears was tingling, but I ses to meself, "So much, 'Enery Wilks, for yumin gratitood. Mothdriver, the famous, yet absent-minded, golf-naturalist, invariably carries a butterfly-net in his golf-bag—for he agrees with Mr.
Horace Hutchinson that some of the best entomological specimens can be captured in the course of playing the royal and ancient game. Brer Rabbit. Second Enthusiast. The Golf Stream. Real Enjoyment. D'ye no ca' that excitement. A little success at golf, as I've notised, jenerally makes a man wish for more.
Like the appertite of a young girl for chocerlates. I dunno if you remember that nice old Mister Giggington, of 'oom I told you. Under my skillfull gidance, and with the ade of a little inercent 'anky-panky, 'e kontrived to wander rarnd these 'ere links in an 'undred and twenty-nine. Golf betting ead to head explained Well, ever since that serprising triemph, 'e 'as been 'ungering for fresh feelds to konker, as you might say.
As nice and kind an old jentleman as ever smashed a club is Mister Giggington, but I allus [Pg 56] 'ave to 'andle 'im like eggs to prevent 'im losing 'art. I didn't think as 'ow even 'Enery Wilks would be able to grattify 'is 'armless ambishun, but the uther day I saw my chawnce.
It was a Toosday morning, and the course was quite disserted, excep' for Mister G. Which is me. And then a new member come along 'oo was wishfull for a game, and dirrectly I set eyes on 'im, somethink, hinstink, I suppose, seemed to tell me that 'ere was the man for 'oom I 'ad been waiting. But 'is manners was reelly bewtifull.
It was quite a site to see 'im click 'is 'eels togevver, and bow to my himployer, and in a minute they 'ad fixed their match. I 'ad 'inted to Mister G. I never lerned what the [Pg 58] Frenchman's 'andicap was, but if the Champyon 'isself 'ad offered to take strokes from 'im 'e would 'ave closed gladly wiv the offer. And yet there was reelly nuthing erfensive about the little man.
I could see as 'ow pore old Mister G. The niblick, from long practice in the bunkers, is 'is club. Me frend, Chawley Martin, was the Frenchman's caddie, and 'e took ercasion to remmark to me that we seemed in for somethink warmish. I checked the boy wiv one of my glawnces, and then we waited while 'is hemployer took the 'onner. That jentleman danced up to the tee, waving rarnd 'is head the longest and the bendiest driver that I 'ave ever seen, and 'e didn't trubble to address the ball at all.
The Frenchman 'ad sliced at rite angels, and for anythink I know 'is ball is still in the air. Certingly, we never saw it agin. That slite misforchune appeered to egsite and [Pg 60] dimmoralise Chawley's himployer, 'oo may 'ave been quite a brillyent player on 'is day, and I may say at once that 'e never reelly found 'is game. On the uther 'and it seemed to put new life and vigger into Mister G.
Our erponent was appariently trying 'ard to do each 'ole in a brillyent one, but we was quite content to win them in a steddy nine. We 'ad our misforchunes, of course. For 'arf the rarnd it stood the crewel strane and then it didn't break. It jest seemed to [Pg 62] sort of dissolve into small peaces. But we was two up by then and our tails was 'igh in air.
As for the Frenchman, 'is meffods at times was reelly serprising. After that first drive Chawley lade 'isself down flat when 'is hemployer drove, but even in that posishun it didn't seem 'ardly safe. That long, thin, bendy driver sent the ball to all 'ites and all angels, but never once in a strate line. After a wile 'e diskarded it, and guv a fair, 'onnest trial to every club in 'is bag in turn.
I should never 'ave been serprised to see 'im drive desperit like wiv 'is putter, but even then Chawley wouldn't 'ave dared say nuthink. It was on the fiftienth green that the great match was ended. Mister Giggington's pluck and stamminer 'ad been amasing for 'is age, but the strane and the joyfull egsitement was beginning to tell on 'im. The Frenchman tried to bring off a thirty-yard putt to save the 'ole, and failed by some forty yards.
But 'e took 'is defeet like a nero. They shook 'ands on the green and 'e said that it warmed 'is 'art to reflect on the glory that 'is frendly foe 'ad won. I beleeve as 'ow there was tears in the old jentleman's eyes. A Ruling Passion. Meenister MacGlucky of the Free Kirk, after having given way more than usual to an expression "a wee thing strong"—despairingly.
Ah, w-e-el. I'll hae ta gie 't up. A Poser. Well, supposin' your pigs were down wi' th' fever, an' your sheep had got th' influenza, if your crops were drownded in eighteen inches o' water, an' your rent were overdue—what would you do. Neither of them recognises me now. But I reckon there is [Pg 66] certain excepshuns to the cast-iron 'onnesty of all of us, and every yumin being 'as 'is little weakness.
Mine is golf balls. Tips is well enuff in their way, and I 'ave nuthing at all to say agin them, but the present of a good ball is far more pleesing to the 'art of 'Enery Wilks. Praps it's becos of 'is allmost inkonquerabul pride which shrinks at times from taking munney from them 'oom 'e feels to be 'is equils or hinfeeriors; or praps it grattifies 'is artistick nachure to be given the himplements of that great sience which 'e onderstands so well.
Any'ow golf balls is my temptashun, and one which once or twice in the course of my 'onnerabul kareer I 'ave allowed meself to yeeld to. Some golfers will ercashunally 'and you tuppence or an 'arf-used ball, wif a jenial word of thanks for your attenshuns which is worth more to a proud nachure than the gift itself.
And there's uthers 'oo never think of doing nuthink of the sort. Among them is Mister Schwabstein, 'oo is not French or Scotch, as you might think from 'is name, but German, wiv praps a touch of Jentile. An egsellent sort of person, I dessay, in the 'ome sircle, but 'ardly what you'd call a brillyent success upon the links. They say as 'ow 'e 'as more munney than 'e ritely knows what to do wiv, but I fancy 'e's made it by never giving any of it away.
Let me diskribe to you a rarnd which 'e played the uther day wiv Mister 'Erminius Brellett, our litterry member, 'oo allus seems to go out of 'is way to play wiv kurious people. I 'ave taken Mister Schwabstein in charge before, but never 'ave I seen 'is pecooliarities so noticeabul as on that day.
I shall never know egsackly what 'e did, becos the [Pg 70] tees was dry, and for the moment I was 'arf blinded by the dust. But there was a thud and a krackling snap, and two things was flying through the thick, dusty air. Them two missils was the ball and the 'ead of the driver, and they fell togevver thirty yards from the tee. It often seems to me that it is 'is misforchune.
Then Mister Brellett took one of 'is yusual springing drives, which 'appened to come off, and 'e won that fust 'ole on 'is head. Mister Schwabstein kontrived to redooce 'is brassey to fragmints at the second 'ole; and after that he took out 'is niblick, and nuthing wouldn't perswade 'im to put it back.
And the way that thick strong niblick 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 deep kassims, which nuthink wouldn't fill up. And 'is stile of bunker play was equilly distrucktive. I wouldn't 'ave belleeved that meer wood and iron could 'ave done the work that that one German niblick did wivout turning an 'air.
After the fust time I jenerally dodged, and once 'e turned and patted Mister Brellett's 'ead by accerdent. Like most litterry jents, the latter is rather touchy, and there was neerly trouble; but some'ow, thanks to Mister Schwabstein's apparent onconshusness of offense, it was erverted. At the thirteenth 'ole Mister Brellett was five up. Mister Schwabstein put down a new ball, wiv a sort of groan, and pulled it wiv 'is niblick right rarnd into the rough.
For a long two minnutes we 'unted 'igh and low, but nowhere could we find that ball. If I'd seen it I would 'ave handed it [Pg 74] over at once, sich being my boundin dooty. But I never did see it. There was jest one little place in that rough where some'ow it didn't seem worth while looking.
We 'ad to erbandon it at last; and Mister Schwabstein lost the 'ole and the match. Later in the day I wandered down on a sort of ferlorn 'ope to that bit of rough, and kuriously enuff I walked bang on to that ball. There was severil courses open to me. I might 'ave 'anded it over to the orthorities, or I might 'ave kep' it as a memmentoe of Mister Schwabstein's unfaling jenerosity and kortesy.
But 'Enery Wilks didn't see 'is way to doing either of them two things. But golf must have flourished at Denmark in Hamlet's time, judging by the above reproduction of a very ancient mural decoration which has just come to light. See also quotation Hamlet , Act II.
Bertie to caddie, searching for lost ball. Why, I must have driven it fifty yards further. Diplomatic Caddie. Golfing Amenities. Overheard on a course within miles of Edinburgh. His Unfortunate Partner whose match has been lost and game spoilt, at last breaking out. The best thing ye can tak is the fower fifteen for Edinburgh!
The Pedantry of Sport. I played a round with Captain Bulger the other day. Cheerful Beginner who has just smashed the Colonel's favourite driver. Golf caddies are now very much in the public eye. The education of some of them is certainly not all that it should be. As I told Jones when he met me at the clubhouse, it was a year or more since I had last played, so the chances were that I should be a bit below form.
Besides, I was told that the standard of play had been so raised——. I should just think it has. Got your clubs. Come along then. Queer old-fashioned things they are, too. And you're never going out without your theodolite. What do you use it for. And—bless me, you've no inflater, or glasses—not even a wind-gauge!
Shall I borrow some for you. Good; there's only one couple on the first tee, so we shall get away in half an hour or so. Simkins is a fast player—wonderful head for algebra 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 the country with great care through a field-glass.
Then he squinted along a theodolite at a distant pole. Next he used a strange instrument which was, Jones told me, a wind-gauge, and tapped thoughtfully at a pocket-barometer. After that he produced paper and pencil, and was immersed apparently in difficult [Pg 82] sums. Finally, he summoned one of his caddies, who carried a metal cylinder.
A golf ball was connected to this by a piece of india-rubber tubing, and a slight hissing noise was heard. New idea. Not very; even a year ago you must have seen pneumatic golf balls—filled with compressed air. Well, this is 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 he surveyed the putting-green—about half a mile away—through his glasses, and remarked that it was a fairish shot, the ball being within three inches of the hole. His companion, who went through the same lengthy preliminaries, was less fortunate. In a tone of considerable disgust he announced that he had over-driven the hole by four hundred yards.
Well, we can start now. Shall I lead the way. I begged him to do so. He in turn surveyed the country, consulted instruments, did elaborate sums, inflated his ball. Of course he ought not to have used such language, and yet it was a sort of relief to find something about the game which was entirely unchanged.
Royal and Ancient Records. A Last Resort. Caddie in stage whisper to Biffin, who is frightfully nervous. It's all right. I've told every one of 'em you can't play. Fitzfoozle a beginner, who is "teaching" a lady on the men's links, and loses a club. Have you seen a lady's club anywhere. Admiral Peppercorn very irate at being delayed, wishes ladies would play on their own course.
Try that. Golfer, whose ball has lodged under stone, has had several unsuccessful shots, and finally, with a tremendous stroke, smashed his club. Virgil on Golf. To Correspondents. Willing to Compensate. Sharp—don't drive yet. My husband is still on the green. I'll risk it. For if I do bowl him over, why, I'm ready to replace him any time. Rumour has it that a movement is on foot amongst a certain section of the golfing public to ensure that for the future all caddies on English links shall be compelled to furnish satisfactory proof that they are physically and morally qualified for the porterage and cleaning of clubs, and acquainted with the more rudimentary principles of the game.
To this end, it is reported, an entrance examination paper is in course of preparation, in which individuals aspiring to official recognition as caddies will be required to obtain a percentage of at least eighty marks. The following questions are said to have been already drafted:—.
Do not trouble to insert your nickname, as it is a matter of indifference to the examiners whether you are locally known as "Tiger," "Ginger," or "Bill Bailey. State your age. If this is less than six, or [Pg 90] more than seventy-five years, you may omit the remaining questions and retire at once from the examination. Rewrite the following passage, correcting anything that may strike you as an error or an incongruity:—"In an hole match, X.
Being required to play 'two more' to his opponent Y. Given that the regulation charge for a round is a shilling, would you consider yourself justified in attempting to exact an extra half-crown for [Pg 92] club-cleaning from a player in spectacles, with a handicap of 27 and a wistful expression. Candidates are advised to say "No" to this question. Enthusiastic Golfer to friend, as train stops at Golfe-Juan : "Oh, here we are!
This must be the place. Yes, this is evidently the station for the links. Jones who has chartered a small boy at a cheap rate. The Ruling Passion. A beautiful stroke missed. A favourite club broken. No words to bring relief. American Friend in the background, after a long pause. July Think that I shall start a links for bachelors only. Hole III. Holed my approach, allowing for both wind and slope of green; really a grand shot.
Caught sight of Mrs. Three up. Hole IV. Thought that I might have to speak to Mrs. Missed my drive in consequence. Two up. Hole V. My [Pg ] drive lay on a buttercup, and who the deuce can be expected to play off buttercups. One up. Hole VI. Stymied R.
He pretended to think that we were not playing stymies. We were. Hole VII. Saw Mrs. These loafing ladies are enough to put any man off his game. Why can't they do something. Hole VIII. I was also annoyed by his stockings, which I should think Mrs. The sort of useless thing she would do. All square. Hole IX. Got well away from Mrs. Beautiful shot.
One up at the turn. Hole XI. Just as I was driving I saw Mrs. I complained, but R. At any rate she cost me the hole. One down. Hole XII. Vardon couldn't have played better than I did, and even R. Hole XIII. As I was putting I had a feeling in my back that Mrs. Missed my putt and only halved the hole. Hole XIV. Couldn't see Mrs.
Wondered where on earth she had got to, or whether she was drowned. Of course I lost the hole. Hole XV. A little dispute, as R. Absolutely foolish, and I told him so. Hole XVI. Made a perfect drive, approach and putt. Looked everywhere for Mrs. Another time, ever the Pied Piper, he strode in for our meeting towing three young autograph hunters, and instructed that as the kids had been standing a long time in the cold they should be given hamburger and chips at once.
As well as a meal and an autograph, the lads were clutching an experience they will be relating 30 years from now. They were not alone. In his uniform of flat cap, green goalie's sweater and, until the knees got too dodgy, swishing squash racket, Clough conducted interviews like the Proms. Behind his desk hung a picture of Frank Sinatra, another who did it his way, and above a deliberately untainted new broom propped against one wall was the sort of slogan you tended to see those days in a typing pool: "The Boss isn't always right but he is always The Boss".
At one stage, Clough propelled himself around the club with a huge stave, a dead ringer for Charlton Heston in one of his Moses roles. That was also the period when, man or woman, he was as likely to bestow a kiss of greeting as a handshake. And when your time was up, he let you know sometimes in mock-rough four-letter fashion. One of our sessions was terminated with a bellow to his secretary, Carole Washington: "Carole, put my Ink Spots CD on", while group interviews were always called to order with a brisk "Can we work?
Some still think Clough ran his trophy-winning teams by fear. Not so, insists Tony Woodcock, it was respect, though they knew who ruled their roost. On the evening of Forest's first European Cup final, in Munich in May , Garry Birtles boarded the team bus with stubbled chin, saying he wanted to look mean for the match.
Clough sent him back to the hotel to shave, the players arrived late for the game. And won A young Scot, Steven Murray, suffered an early dose of Clough's authoritarian side: "After the match he came in the dressing room wearing a pair of boots that John Wayne would have turned down, so I threw him out.
On the other side of the scale, Clough always permitted John Robertson a calming pre-match ciggie in the toilets. Pugilist or pussycat, he claimed every man he signed was there because of the Clough reputation. By now the man who had dished out so much stick was in need of one to help out those ailing knees.
But he would insist on a hobble into the garden of his Quarndon home to admire his roses. After a lunch of beef sandwiches, he never tired of offering opinions on TV, managers, chairmen and the game he loved. After one particular harangue, he paused and said with a grin: "Tell your sports editor he's a lucky man to be getting this interview for nowt.