I beat Carter four up and three to play, and made a medal score of seventy-six, breaking the amateur record for the course. That statement is quite sufficient to tell the story of the game.
I gave a dinner in honour of my victory, and at its conclusion Miss Harding presented the "Bronze Gent," as Chilvers calls this beautiful statuette. She made a graceful speech and we cheered her wildly. How charming she looked as she stood beside the huge bulk of her proud father! I tried to say something in reply, but the light in her eyes seemed to hypnotise me, and after a few incoherent sentences Chilvers came to my relief by striking up our club song, to the tune of a familiar hymn:
"Oh, why can't I drive like other men do?
How on earth can you drive if you don't follow through?"
CHORUS
"Hallelulia; watch that shoulder
Hallelulia, my men;
Hallelulia; get your wrists in!
Must I tell you again?"
"Everybody come in strong on the second verse," ordered Chilvers, and we obeyed as best we could, also on the third. They run like this:
"I can't understand; understand it at all,
Why I can't keep my eye on that little white ball."
CHORUS
"Hallelulia; keep a-looking;
Hallelulia, my men;
Hallelulia; keep a-watching!
Must I tell you again?"
"Oh, why can't I hole out on each green in two?
Because we all find that a hard thing to do."