“Watch the way I do it,” said Ned. Kendall watched, but it is doubtful if he learned much. Ned’s club went back for a full swing, swished down, there was a clean click and away sailed the white ball high and far to drop safely over the first bunker.
“Rotten!” said Ned.
“Not so bad; a little too high,” observed Kirk. “Good luck, Burtis.”
Kendall followed Ned to where his ball had fallen and Ned handed him a midiron.
“You’re going to play with three clubs until you get the hang of it. This is a midiron, Curt. Now, as you haven’t any tee to help you get under the ball, you’ve got to hit back of it; try to clip a bit of the turf. And the swing is different. Let me show you.” Ned illustrated. “Don’t try to hit very hard; just try to put the ball up near the bunker.”
“Is that mound the bunker?” asked Kendall.
“It is. Now see the way I swing this. Get it? Keep that wrist stiff. No, you’re hunching up your right shoulder. Don’t do that. And don’t set your muscles all stiff like that. Relax! That’s the stuff! Now then, have a shot.”
Kendall missed the ball entirely twice and finally topped it so that it trickled along for about twelve feet. The next time he buried the whole head of his club six inches behind the ball and looked up apologetically at Ned.
“I’m an awful duffer,” he said.
“Well, you’re learning the talk, anyway,” laughed Ned. “We’re all awful duffers when we start. Go ahead now. But try and keep your eyes on the place you want to hit. That’s half the secret of golf, Curt; keep your eye on the ball. And it’s the hardest thing of all to learn. See if you can’t give that a nice little rap that will put it over the bunker.”