"Misteh Coyne," said Jasper earnestly, "tha's foolishness—jus' plain foolishness. S'pose you ain' been playin' yo' reg'leh game lately—s'pose you had a lot o' bad luck—that ain' no reason faw you to do a thing like that. Givin' all them expensible clubs to them pin-headed li'l' boys! Lawd! Lawd! They don't know how to treat 'em! They'll be splittin' the shafts, an' crackin' the heads, an' nickin' up the irons, an'——"
"Well," interrupted Coyne, "what of it? I hope they do break 'em!"
Jasper shook his head sorrowfully and returned to the bundle. While studying golfers he had come to know the value placed on golfing tools.
"O' course," said he slowly, "yo' own business is yo' own business, Misteh Coyne. Only, suh, it seem like a awful shame to me. Seem like bustin' up housekeepin' afteh you been married a long time.... Why not wait a few days an' see how you feel then?"
"No! I'm through."
Jasper jerked his head in the direction of the lounging room.
"You tol' the otheh gen'lemen whut you goin' to do?" he asked.
"What's the use? They'd only laugh. They wouldn't believe me. Let 'em find it out for themselves. And, by the way—there's my empty bag in the corner. Dispose of it somehow. Give it away—sell it. You can have whatever you get for it."
"Thank you, suh. You comin' back to see us once in a while?"
"Oh, I suppose so. With the wife and the kids. Well, take care of yourself."