But my shots to-day were such as made even Effie smile;
Oh, the lumps of turf I lifted! Oh, the easy balls I missed!
Oh, the bunkers I got bogged in! And at last a gentle scorn
Curled the lips I would have given my pet "Putter" to have kissed.
Such a bungler as myself her loved links had never borne;
And all the while McBungo—the young crocodile!—bewailed
What he called my "beastly luck," though his joy was plain as print,
Whilst that squint grew worse and worse at each shot of mine which failed.
Oh! never have a caddie with a squint!