Hereafter golf is the game for Gillis!
Me for the niblick and the brassie--fine!
Billy Baldwin, Harry Ford and Eddie Bartlett took me out last summer
and put me wise to the whole lay-out. In less than an hour I could
play the game better than Doolan, and he's the man that made it.
Golf has all the other games slapped to a sit-down.
I know it because I played it once and Billy told me that as soon as
a few Scotch thistles sprouted on my shins I'd be the real rinakaboo!
Harry told me I could drive good enough to own a hack, and Eddie
thought I was the likeliest side-stepper that ever did a
grass-chopping specialty.
The only drawback they found was that I didn't hit the ball.
It's immense for the chest measurement to have the bunch hand you out
the salve spiel--believe me!
I took my lady friend out Westchester way last week and on the road I
was Reckless Robert with the big talk.
It's a habit with me to go up and butt the ceiling every time my lady
friend is near enough to listen.
Most of us young guys are gushers with the loud language when the
Best and Only is in the building.
How we do like to gather the gab and hand out hints to the heroine
that she's gazing on the greatest ever!
When Clara Jane asked me if I knew the game I told her that I used to
room with the man that built the first links.
When she asked me his name I told her it was McDougall, because
that's the name of a head-waiter who helps to spend my money.
She asked me if I knew what a lofter is and I said, "Sure, I eat them
for breakfast every morning!"
When we reached Westchester we met a Society duck named Lionel von
Hamburg.