"My jigger!" exclaimed Henry. "But—it's a niblick shot, isn't it?"
"That's what most people would tell you, but in this case, with a good lie and a lot of distance to make up, I'd take the jigger and pick it up clean. If you hit it right you'll get a long ball."
Now Chick Evans or Ouimet might play a jigger in a bunker and get away with it once in a while, but to recommend that very tricky iron to a dub like Henry Peacock was nothing short of a misdemeanour. Acting under instructions he swung as hard as he could, but the narrow blade hit the sand four inches behind the ball and buried it completely.
"Oh, tough luck!" said the Bish. "Now for a little high-class excavating. Scoop her out with the niblick."
Henry scooped three times, at last popping the ball over the grassy wall. The Bish did not seem in the least discouraged.
"Now your wood," said he.
"But I play a cleek better."
"Nonsense! Take a good hard poke at it with the brassy!"
And poke it he did—a nasty slice into rough grass.
"I could have kept it straight with an iron," said Henry reproachfully.