(_Extract from a Golfer's Diary_)
_July 21._--Played Robinson, who would never win a match if it wasn't
for his wife. Think that I shall start a links for bachelors only.
(Mem.--Suggest to the committee that no married man is allowed to play
golf in the mornings or afternoons.)
Hole I. I played perfectly, holing beautiful long putt. Robinson
hopeless. One up.
Hole II. R. bunkered. Entirely his own fault. Two up.
Hole III. Holed my approach, allowing for both wind and slope of green;
really a grand shot. Caught sight of Mrs. R. as I walked to the next
tee. Three up.
Hole IV. Thought that I might have to speak to Mrs. R. at any minute.
Missed my drive in consequence. Disgusting! Two up.
Hole V. R. seemed to be looking for his wife instead of attending to
what I was saying. My drive lay on a buttercup, and who the deuce can
be expected to play off buttercups? One up.
Hole VI. Stymied R. quite perfectly. He pretended to think that we were
not playing stymies. We were. Two up.
Hole VII. Saw Mrs. R. looking aimlessly out to sea. These loafing ladies
are enough to put any man off his game. Why can't they do something? One
up.
Hole VIII. R. may say what he likes, but he waved to his wife. I was
also annoyed by his stockings, which I should think Mrs. R. knitted. The
sort of useless thing she would do. All square.
Hole IX. Got well away from Mrs. R., and though my caddy coughed as I
was approaching I laid my ball dead. Beautiful shot. One up at the turn.
Hole X. Had the hole in my pocket when R. laid his approach dead.
Ridiculous luck. All square.
Hole XI. Just as I was driving I saw Mrs. R. still looking at the sea. I
complained, but R. took no notice. At any rate she cost me the hole. One
down.
Hole XII. Vardon couldn't have played better than I did, and even R. had
to say "Good shot!" twice. All square.
Hole XIII. As I was putting I had a feeling in my back that Mrs. R. had
arrived at last. Missed my putt and only halved the hole.
Hole XIV. Couldn't see Mrs. R. anywhere. Wondered where on earth she had
got to, or whether she was drowned. Of course I lost the hole. One
down.
Hole XV. A little dispute, as R. claimed that his ball--which was under
a wheelbarrow--was on ground under repair. Absolutely foolish, and I
told him so. All square.
Hole XVI. Made a perfect drive, approach and putt. Looked everywhere for
Mrs. R. and couldn't see her. One up.
Hole XVII. Completely put off by wondering when I should see Mrs. R.
Most unfair. Told my caddy I should report him to the committee. All
square.
Hole XVIII. Saw Mrs. R. on a hill half a mile away. Got on my nerves. R.
said, "Halloa, there's my wife! I thought she wasn't coming out this
morning." Lost the hole and the match, and told the secretary that R.'s
handicap ought to be reduced.
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[Illustration:
"SHE WAS NOT A GOLFER"
_Husband._ "What on earth has happened to my driver?"
_Wife._ "Oh, I couldn't find the hammer, so I used that thing. It wasn't
much use, though."]
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[Illustration: