One animal in particular attracted Buddie’s attention. He wore gay plaids and a funny little cap, and he carried a stick with which he knocked a small ball from one end of the clearing to the other. First he placed the ball on a tuft of grass; then he swung the stick over his shoulder and shouted “Fore!” and then he whacked at the ball, sometimes hitting it and sometimes not.
“Who is he?” Buddie asked.
“He’s the Golf Lynx,” replied the Rabbit, “and he’s a great nuisance, for he’s always hitting somebody with the ball, and it hurts, I can tell you. Doctor Goose says the poor fellow can’t help it, as—”
“Fore!” shouted a voice close at hand, and a ball whizzed by within an inch of Buddie’s ear.
“The games are beginning!” cried another voice, and everybody began to move toward one end of the clearing, where the ground pitched up and formed a sort of grandstand.
“You must excuse me for a while,” said the Rabbit to Buddie, as they fell in with the procession. “My race with the tortoise comes first.”
“Oh, do you fall asleep and wait for him to come poking along?” asked Buddie, her mind on the old fable.
“No, indeed,” replied the Rabbit. “We’re pretty evenly matched. First he wins, and then I win. It’s my turn this week. On a straight line I could beat him every time; but, as I explained to you this morning, I have to do a great deal of zigzagging.”
When every one had found a seat Doctor Fox announced that the Club’s distinguished Visitor, Professor Bray, had kindly requested to act as master of ceremonies, and a great cheer went up.
The race between the Tortoise and the Rabbit was quickly run. They got away in a pretty start, and it was nip and tuck to the other end of the clearing. As it was some distance across the open, Buddie could not see who was ahead at the finish; but the Bat announced that the Rabbit had won by an ear.