SHOULD MARRIED MEN BE ALLOWED TO PLAY GOLF?
(Extract from a Golfer's Diary)
July 21.—Played Robinson, who would never win a match if it wasn't for his wife. Think that I shall start a links for bachelors only. (Mem.—Suggest to the committee that no married man is allowed to play golf in the mornings or afternoons.)
Hole I. I played perfectly, holing beautiful long putt. Robinson hopeless. One up.
Hole II. R. bunkered. Entirely his own fault. Two up.
Hole III. Holed my approach, allowing for both wind and slope of green; really a grand shot. Caught sight of Mrs. R. as I walked to the next tee. Three up.
Hole IV. Thought that I might have to speak to Mrs. R. at any minute. Missed my drive in consequence. Disgusting! Two up.
Hole V. R. seemed to be looking for his wife instead of attending to what I was saying. My drive lay on a buttercup, and who the deuce can be expected to play off buttercups? One up.
Hole VI. Stymied R. quite perfectly. He pretended to think that we were not playing stymies. We were. Two up.
Hole VII. Saw Mrs. R. looking aimlessly out to sea. These loafing ladies are enough to put any man off his game. Why can't they do something? One up.
Hole VIII. R. may say what he likes, but he waved to his wife. I was also annoyed by his stockings, which I should think Mrs. R. knitted. The sort of useless thing she would do. All square.
Hole IX. Got well away from Mrs. R., and though my caddy coughed as I was approaching I laid my ball dead. Beautiful shot. One up at the turn.
Hole X. Had the hole in my pocket when R. laid his approach dead. Ridiculous luck. All square.
Hole XI. Just as I was driving I saw Mrs. R. still looking at the sea. I complained, but R. took no notice. At any rate she cost me the hole. One down.
Hole XII. Vardon couldn't have played better than I did, and even R. had to say "Good shot!" twice. All square.
Hole XIII. As I was putting I had a feeling in my back that Mrs. R. had arrived at last. Missed my putt and only halved the hole.
Hole XIV. Couldn't see Mrs. R. anywhere. Wondered where on earth she had got to, or whether she was drowned. Of course I lost the hole. One down.
Hole XV. A little dispute, as R. claimed that his ball—which was under a wheelbarrow—was on ground under repair. Absolutely foolish, and I told him so. All square.
Hole XVI. Made a perfect drive, approach and putt. Looked everywhere for Mrs. R. and couldn't see her. One up.
Hole XVII. Completely put off by wondering when I should see Mrs. R. Most unfair. Told my caddy I should report him to the committee. All square.
Hole XVIII. Saw Mrs. R. on a hill half a mile away. Got on my nerves. R. said, "Halloa, there's my wife! I thought she wasn't coming out this morning." Lost the hole and the match, and told the secretary that R.'s handicap ought to be reduced.
"SHE WAS NOT A GOLFER"
Husband. "What on earth has happened to my driver?"
Wife. "Oh, I couldn't find the hammer, so I used that thing. It wasn't much use, though."
OUR VILLAGE
The Golf-Club in full swing.
She. "Why, Mr. Smith, you don't mean to say you have taken up golf?"
Smith (age 78). "Yes. I found I was getting a bit too old for lawn tennis!"
ERRATIC
Pedestrian (anxious for his safety). "Now, which way are you going to hit the ball?"
Worried Beginner. "Only wish to goodness I knew myself!"
SWEET SIMPLICITY
Diffident Man (who does not know to how much of an ingénue he is talking). "Have you been out long, Miss Grace?"
Miss Grace (consulting her wrist-strap). "Oh, about three-quarters of an hour. You see we were asked to come punctually."