Holworthy Hall

“ Indeed, he was rather astonishingly severe and unemotional for a man who had just accomplished a praiseworthy feat.
"You 've just joined the club, Mr. Chapman?"
"Only a week ago, Mr. Mott."
"Pretty nice course, don't you think? It's very hard. It's harder by three strokes than any other course in the metropolitan district, and the fairway's a bit ragged, and the greens are pretty nearly hopeless; but you wait five years! I tell you, a man's got to keep out of the rough on this course or he's dished. I like a stiff course; it's the only kind to have. ”

“ Mott?"
"Oh, pretty fair—for me," said Mr. Mott, feebly.
But as he left the club-house his heart was again proud and high. He had dismissed from his mind all thought of his partner's performance; he was sustained and soothed by the remembrance of the last nine holes in fifty-six, and the last four in par. He felt a sturdy manhood, confident and unafraid. To-day he had scored ll9; to-morrow it might be that he, too, should play the full round as he had played the last four holes to-day; upon such dreams are founded the wealth of the athletic outfitters. ”

“ On the ninth tee, to the frank annoyance of another foursome which had overtaken them, Mr. Mott refused to drive until the quartet ahead had left the green, two hundred and twenty-two yards away, uphill.
"A good wallop 'll carry that far sometimes," he explained with dignity. "They 're off now, anyway." Before proceeding to the shot, he condescended to lighten the situation with a ray of humor. "I'd hate to kill anybody," he said, and topped not more than a mallet's length into the tall grass. ”

“ Mott withheld his analysis until Chapman had curved a half-slice within striking distance of the green, and then his finer sensibilities prompted him to disregard himself and to tutor Chapman.
"That was a nice ball," he began sincerely, "but you 're still slicing. Why don't you try addressing it with the toe of the club? That makes you reach out after it. You try that, and see what it does. And I 've noticed you go back too fast. You can't do that and keep your balance unless you 're a good player. Slow back, and crook your left knee more. ”

“ Mott prepared to drive.
"Do you always remember scores like that?"
"Always."
Mr. Mott drove far down the fairway. Exalted and emboldened, he ventured to explain briefly just how he had done it. Then when Chapman had hit a long, low ball which developed a faint slice as it dipped to the hollows, Mr. Mott was constrained to offer condolence.
"If you just get that kink out of your shots you 'll play under a hundred," he stated flatly.
"Well, I hope so."
"Nothing in the world but slow wrist action. Look! You don't see me slicing many balls, do you? ”

“ The man whose partner has played out rather than to wait politely while sand-pits are under exploration is subject to an adjustment of poise; and although Mr. Mott had the satisfaction of leaving no loophole for criticism, he was nevertheless too fundamentally introspective to drive well on the dog-leg fourteenth. ”

“ Mott would n't have been human if he had n't taken seven on the next hole, and he would n't have been human if he had n't experienced a thrill of primitive triumph when Chapman not only sliced his drive, but also his full mid-iron. ”

“ I certainly don't! I did n't even expect to play this afternoon, and to-morrow I 'll drive you anywhere you— Oh, it might easily mean a thousand dollars to me. Yes, a thousand. Just as soon as we finish— Oh, no, I would n't do that! The greens committee does n't like to have women on the course on Saturdays. I 'll start home the minute we finish. All right; I'm just as sorry as you are. Good-by!"
Mr. Mott hung up the receiver, exhaled in an abandon of relief, and smartly accosted a cadaverous friend, who happened to be passing through the locker-room:
"Oh, Smithson! ”

“ Temporarily, he had struck his head upon the stars, and with the pride of a champion he swung with a champion's ease and freedom. Par five! Mr. Mott, with the image of the Vardon statue hovering be- fore his eyes, clipped bits of turf from the scarred tee and ogled the green. Carrigan had overdriven it; it was n't much more than three hundred yards. And the morass directly before the tee, the trap to the left, and the rough to the right, what were they? Who but novices were to be alarmed by the puny hazards such as these? Surely not one who has made the long fifteenth in a par five! ”

“ Mott waved the hand which had recently done duty as a silencer.
"Easiest thing in the world. Mrs. Mott would n't any more think of spoiling my Saturdays than—well, she just would n't think of it. She knows I'm working like a dog all the week; a man's got to have some recreation." ”

“ You got a nice drive there."
"Too high," said Mr. Mott, judgmatically. He played a jumping shot which ran briskly over the shallow pit guarding the green, and came to a standstill not twenty feet from the cup. He putted, and was dead. He holed out with neatness and precision, and knew that he had beaten Chapman by a stroke. "Gad, what a green!" said Mr. Mott, pop-eyed. "Like a billiard-table. We 've got an English greenskeeper; he's a wonder. Sleepy Hollow and Pine Valley have nothing on us."
"You 're finishing strong, Mr. Mott. Go to it!"
"One under par for three holes," shouted Mr. ”

“ The second shots, too, filled him with passionate glory, for he was safely over the brook, while Chapman had sliced into tall grass. Mr. Mott sidled toward his partner, and made diplomatic overtures of assistance.
"If you don't mind my telling you," he said, "you stand too far in front of the ball. You can't help slicing when you do that. You pull the face of the club right across the ball. You 're getting good distance, but you slice all the time. Stand farther ahead, and you 'll be all right." ”

“ You take these caddies; they watch good players, and get hold of a good swing, and they 're not bothered with nerves—"
"Pardon me, but I think you 're back there about ten yards, Mr. Mott."
"So I am! Much obliged! Fore!"
Within a quarter of a mile there was no one who might conceivably have been endangered by Mr, Mott's recovery from the sand-pits, but his warning cry was both mechanical and peremptory. He eyed the flag, three hundred yards in advance, and with his eye still on it he played the mashy-niblick in the stroke which made Edward Ray internationally famous. It made Mr. ”

“ Well, I would bring him home, but he wants the exercise.— Oh, absolutely! Why, I 'll take you anywhere you say; I had n't planned anything for to-morrow— Not to-night, dear; I can't go out anywhere to-night. ”