Violet Flint

“ Still an alluring and delicious place is Hades,
Frequented much by lords and ladies.
So charming and so pleasant is it
That multitudes to Paradise prefer it.'
'Hades, ne'er heard o't, is't in the Hielands?'
'No, Skipper friend, 'tis in the Netherlands.'
'But come, our game, I'm eager to begin;
Strike off,' said I, 'I long those yellow boys to win.
Tak' you the honour noo, for ne'er again
You'll hae the chance, or I'm sair mistaen.'
He grinned, and said, 'You hold me very cheap;
Believe me, I intend those yellow boys to keep.'
He drove a rattlin' shot from off the tee ”

“ He died at the ripe age of 75. Peace to his memory! Some time before his death, I had what proved to be a final interview with him, when he rehearsed his queer weird story, adding some curious reminiscences of his early days in connection with the Links of St Andrews and his favourite pastime. As they may be interesting to some of my older golfing friends, I have interpolated them into the rugged doggerel of the text from the notes I took at the time. ”

“ And should I have the luck to win
(He said this with a leering grin) ,
Why what so simple, you engage
To serve me faithful without wage,
And as my Caddie with me stay
Until your little debt you pay.
Service with me will never tire you,
[Pg 7] Besides I like you and admire you.'
Softly he spoke, while sweetly smilin'
Like lover simple lass beguilin';
Then from his pooch a purse he pulled,
A purse with golden guineas filled;
The meshes thro' I saw them bright
Glitterin' in the gloamin' light.
'Look, Skipper see these yellow boys,
The source and fount of human joys ”

“ He also at the same time pathetically deplored the unreasoning and obstinate incredulity of friends who persisted in disbelieving his story, and suggested, with a view to convincing and converting them, that I should have some of the more striking incidents in the story illustrated. I have done so, but alas! his old eyes will never look upon them and acknowledge the credit due to Mr Bannerman, the clever draughtsman.
At the close of our interview, he also alluded to his precious breeks with which, in his opinion, rest the onus probandi of his adventure. ”

“ Weel washed, weel clad, your blue beard shaved
Like Dr Byd's, and weel behaved
As toun-kirk elder 'fore the session—
Speak out, auld man, and mak' confession.
The speaker was ane Jock Pitbladdie,
A golfer good, and decent caddie,
[Pg 2] Who, drunk or sober, in 's vocation
Had aye the grace o' moderation.
A souter to his trade, he'd left the toun
Sax months before to work in Troon,
To carry clubs or mend auld shoon,
At ilka t' ade a handy loon.
Skipper and Jock were cronies thrang,
Had kent and liked each other lang ”

“ I'd play the very Deil himsel',
Auld Nickey Ben, red wud frae H—l.'
I heard a laugh! Was I mistaen?
I thocht I was my lief alane,
But turnin', near me stood a man,
A strappin' chiel, wi' clubs in han',—
Lean-shankit, extra tall and spare,
Wi' goatee beard and jet-black hair.
'Good evening, Skipper,' says he sprightly,
[Pg 6] Liftin' his cap to me politely.
'You want a match, I'll gladly play you
For a hundred pounds, what say you?'
'You do me proud,' says I, astounded,
My wits had left me quite confounded.
'Man, a hundred pounds, I hae nae got,
I'm but a Caddie, poor my lot ”

“ Aiblins it likewise bears the mark.'
'Fie!' Jenny cried, wi' blushing cheeks,
'Eneugh! we've seen the Skipper's breeks,
Sic zeal may weel become a howdie,
I draw the line at breeks,' quo' Jenny Braidie.
'What!' Meg rejoined, 'you pented jade,
You dare to scorn my honest trade!
'Tis ill for you to mak' reflection,
Your ain will scarcely stand inspection.'
And snorting red, on mischief bent,
She turned to me for my consent. ”

“ To be a chosen tit-bit for the Deil.
But michty strange it seems to be,
Sic honour should be kept for me,
When you might have made selection
From swells and sinners o' distinction:
Ginerals, Cornels, and sodger gentry;
[Pg 27] Gude kens! there's wale o' them and plenty!
'Mong Clairgy, Lawyers, and Professors,
Poor folk in trade, and sma' transgressors.
Save us man! You micht hae grippet
A Provost wi' an ermine tippet,
Or eke a consequential Bailie,
Or Councillor fu' wise and wily.
Instead, to nab a poor auld caddie,
'Twas mean,' I tell't him, Jock Pitbladdie. ”

“ Against a Deil who averaged three?
Gude three-score years I'd kent the green,
And many a gallant match I'd seen,
Lang, lang before I was a caddie,
When golfin' daft a fisher laddie.
Wi' keen delight I still remember
[Pg 22] The glorious gatherin's o' September,
When eager golfers came to seek,
And share the joys o' 'Medal Week.'
They mustered strong, a manly band. ”

“ It was not every man, he proudly asserted, who could receive and survive a skelp o' the Deil's tail!
V.F.
Torrington Mansions, London.
[Pg 1]
A GOLFING IDYLL
Now Skipper frien', come tell me true
What garred ye mount the ribbon blue?
Gude sake! to think the like o' you
Should e'er hae joined the Templar crew!
How you accomplished your conversion
It bangs poor me past comprehension.
No six months gane, a drucken deevil,
You led the ball in waste and revel;
Were staggerin' on destruction's brink,
Selling your very duds for drink. ”

“ Clootie gaed smilin' in, rejoiced to be
At hame, his bonny bairns to see;
His ball he found, both safe and playable.
'Play quick,' cried I, 'this smell is d—able.'
'Pause, Skipper, 'tis my favourite scent,' says he,
'Bouquet d'Enfer, a perfume sweet to me.
You lack good taste, you drunken sot,
To me this is a charming spot ”

“ Gude sake! Ay man! etc.
The Skipper delivered himself of what he had to say in pure Scotch Doric, more or less, but occasionally broke out into good English, showing himself to be a man of better education than I believed him to be. This idea was strengthened by his reference to Bunyan; and the extravagant vision at the 'end hole,' with all its bathos and absurdity, suggested some acquaintance with Milton. ”

“ Don't think that with a fool you're dealin',
For though to drink a slave I've been,
I say it, with contrition keen,
I ne'er had horrors, what they ca' D.T.
In Latin tongue, whatever that may be;
You hand your ain, and I keep my opinion,
I ken my failin's, I'm but human.'
('Twas nae use arguing wi' a woman.)
Now Jock my story's told, my yarn is ended,
[Pg 34] Some things there be that can't be mended ”

“ But, Skipper, you have yet to tell
What he was like, this bloomin' swell.
[Pg 8] I said he was a strappin' chiel,
Six feet and mair frae head to heel;
On's head he wore a Hieland bannet,
A blackcock's feather stickin' in it.
On either side his lugs I noted
Were large and high and sharply nookit;
A nose like mine, and fine black een,
A big moustache and pointed chin;
In troth a very handsome felley,
Though black-a-vized and somewhat yelley,
Like they foreign chaps that gang wi' puggies,
And play on pipes and hurdy-gurdies. ”

“ As to my reason for weaving the story into rhyming doggerel, I hold myself excused in that I did it for my own amusement, influenced also by a belief that it might possibly prove more readable and attractive in that shape to the persons I chiefly wished to peruse it, viz., my friends of the Caddie fraternity.
VIOLET FLINT.
Torrington Mansions, London.
PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION
Since I penned the first prefatory lines to this trifling work, I regret to inform my readers non-resident in St Andrews, that my interesting old friend the Skipper is no more. ”

“ A Golfing Idyll OR
The Skipper's Round with the Deil
On the Links of St Andrews
Third Edition
W.C. HENDERSON & SON, ST ANDREWS
GEO. STEWART & CO., EDINBURGH AND LONDON
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, KENT & CO. LD., LONDON
MDCCCXCVII.
THE ILLUSTRATIONS ARE BY
A. ISLAY BANNERMAN
(BANNERMAN & STEEL, EDINBURGH) ”