The Adventures of a Suburbanite

Home > Humorous > The Adventures of a Suburbanite > Page 10
The Adventures of a Suburbanite Page 10

by Ellis Parker Butler


  X. ADVANCED GOLF

  THAT evening Millington dropped over to chat for a few minutes, and hewas in good spirits. He told me he had found the automobile where I hadleft it with its nose against the tree, and that it had been necessaryto hire a team to pull it home. Isobel said she would never forget thepleased expression on Millington's face as he saw the helpless machinebeing towed into his yard, and between what both of them said I feltrightly proud at having lifted such a load from his mind.

  "Now," said Millington cheerfully, "we can all start for Port Lafayettein the morning. I will get up at four to-morrow morning and tinkerat the motor, and by nine, or ten at the latest, we will be ready tostart."

  At ten the next morning, therefore, Isobel and I went over toMillington's garage, but our first glimpse of him told us all was notwell. He was sitting on the garage step with his head buried in hisarms, while his wife was sitting beside him, vainly endeavouring toconsole him. For awhile he made no response to my queries, and then heonly raised his mournful face and pointed at the automobile. He was tooovercome for words, and his wife had to give us the awful facts.

  "This morning at four," she said, "Edward came out and prepared to dowhat he could to repair the motor you had so kindly put to the bad.He was then his usual, cheerful self. He leaped lightly into thechauffeur's seat, touched the starting lever, and, to his utterdistress, the automobile moved smoothly out of the garage and down thedriveway, without a single misplaced throb or sign of disorder. Therewas nothing the matter with the automobile at all. Not a thing torepair. It was as if it had just come from the factory. Of course heimmediately gave up all idea of the little run to Port Lafayette. Now,there is only one thing to be done. You must take the machine and runit around the block until it is in a fit condition to be repaired. I amafraid you did not do a good job yesterday."

  Although I felt rather hurt by the last words, I was not a man to desertMillington in his need, and without a word I jumped into the automobileand started. That morning I put in some hard work. It seemed that theautomobile had repaired itself so well that nothing would ever be thematter with it again, but by persistent efforts and by doing everythingan amateur could possibly do to ruin an automobile, I succeeded indeveloping its weak spots. Not until noon was I satisfied, but when thehorses at last pulled the automobile into Millington's garage I felt Ihad done my duty. I had mashed the hood and cracked a cylinder, dishedthe left front wheel and absolutely ruined all the battery connections.I would have defied any man to make that automobile run one inch. It hadbeen hard work, but I was amply repaid when Millington threw hisarms around me and wept for joy on my shoulder. He was not usually ademonstrative man.

  "Next week, or the week after, John," he said cheerfully, as he took offhis coat, "I may have the machine patched up a little, and we will takethat little run out to Port Lafayette. I feel that the trip has beendelayed too long already, and I shall get to work at once."

  "If you wish," I said, "I will lend you Mr. Prawley to hold things whileyou work on them."

  "Prawley?" said Millington. "Prawley? That man of yours? No, thank you,John. That man Prawley is so fearful of automobiles that he trembles atthe sight of a pair of goggles. He would die of fear if we forced himinto this garage."

  I left Millington whistling over his work, and that afternoon I tookmy putter and went to the golf grounds alone, for I had spent half thenight reading the golf book Mr. Rolfs had lent me, and I saw I had notgone at the game in the right way. I knew now that I should have held myclub with my right hand more to the right--or to the left--and my rightfoot nearer the ball--or not so near it--and with the head of my clubheeled up more--or not so much. The directions given by the book werevery explicit. They said a player must invariably lay his thumb alongthe shaft of the club, unless he wrapped it around the shaft, or let itstick up like a sore toe, or cut it off and got along without it, or didsomething else with it. The book seemed to imply that the proper wayfor a beginner to learn golf was to lock himself in a dark closet andindulge in silent meditation until he became an expert player, butthe closets in my house were so narrow and shallow I felt I could notmeditate broadly in them. So I went to the Country Club.

  I met young Weldorf there, and as soon as he saw me he immediatelyproposed a round. He said he had wanted to play a round with me eversince he had heard of my clubs. He said he hoped I would not mind hisdog being along, for the dog took a lively interest in the game of golf.

  So I told Weldorf I loved dogs and that I thought a dog or two scatteredaround the links added greatly to the picturesqueness of the game.Weldorf's dog was a rather thin dog, of the white terrier kind, withblack spots, and Weldorf explained that the reason there were bare,flesh-coloured spots on the dog was because he was just recovering froman attack of mange.

  Weldorf drove first, and a beautiful drive it was, and with a gay barkthe dog darted after the ball, but Weldorf spoke to him sternly, and hestopped short, although he still gazed after the ball yearningly. Then Idrove. I exerted the whole of my enormous strength in that drive, andI think I surprised Weldorf. I know I surprised the dog. If I hadbeen that dog, I, too, would have been surprised. There stood the dog,looking at Weldorf's ball, wagging his tail and thinking of nothing, andhere came my ball with terrific speed. Suddenly the ball hit the dogon the hip with a splashy sort of smack, and immediately the dog wasimpelled forward and upward, giving voice, as we dog-fanciers say. Hegave voice three times while in the air, and when he alighted he put histail between his legs and dashed madly away.

  219]

  We were not able to retrieve the dog until we reached the third teeingground, and then I apologized to him. He did not accept my apology. Helooked upon my most friendly advances with unjust suspicion. He seemedto have no faith in my game, and kept well to the rear of me, but whenWeldorf addressed him in a few well-chosen words he unlooped his tailand wagged it in a halfhearted sort of way. I decided to ignore the dog.I raised the hinged lid of the sandbox and took out a large handful ofsand to form my tee, and letting the lid fall took a step forward.

  Immediately the dog gave voice! Weldorf had to raise the lid of thesand-box before the dog was able to get his tail out, but as soon as hehad reassumed full control of his tail he placed it firmly between hislegs and dashed madly away. It is nonsense to have a golf dog with along tail.

  By the time we reached the sixth putting-green the dog had begun toget lonely, and assumed a cheerful demeanour. He returned to us withingratiating poses, mainly sliding along the ground on his stomach as heapproached, and I was glad to see him happy again, for I love dogs andI like to have them happy. He stood afar off, however, until he sawour balls on the putting-green. He knew that golfers do not "putt" asstrenuously as they "drive." Then he came nearer. I took the flag-polefrom the hole and let it fall gracefully to the ground. Without aninstant of hesitation the dog gave voice! It was a long flag-pole,made of a plump bamboo fish-rod, and when it fell it seemed to strikedirectly on the eighth dorsal vertebra of the dog, at a spot where hewas not recovering very well from the mange.

  Weldorf said he had no doubt the dog would find his way home, and westood and listened until the voice the dog was giving died away in thefar distance, and then we holed out. It is nonsense for a dog to havedorsal vertebrae.

  When we reached the seventh hole I found that the grounds committeewas already using my initiation fee, for the grass mowers were at workthere, and a man with a rake immediately stepped up to me, and said inthe most friendly manner that he would be willing to part with somegolf balls for money, if I would say nothing about it to the Board ofGovernors. He had sixteen, nine of which I recognized as some of thoseI had lost the day before, and he very generously offered to let me havethe lot at fifteen cents each. I purchased them eagerly, and the man whowas driving the mower at once descended and offered me twelve moreat the same price. Between there and the ninth hole numerous caddiesappeared from behind trees and bunkers and offered me balls atridiculously low prices, and I, quite naturally,
took advantage of theiroffers.

  When I reached home Isobel asked me how I was progressing with my game."Well," I said, "I return with forty-two more golf balls than I had whenI went out."

  Instantly her face brightened. She congratulated me warmly and said shewas sure Mrs. Rolfs and Mrs. Millington had overstated the evils of thegame. She said she thought she could see an improvement in my healthalready. She advised me to keep at the game until my health was beyondcompare.

  I now know that the book Mr. Rolfs lent me is mere piffle and that, fora man who takes his golf in the right way, a broom or a hairpin is asgood as any other tool. I enjoy the game immensely, and find it greatsport. Often I come home with fifty golf balls, and my low record iseighteen--but that was a legal holiday and the grass mowers were onvacation. I have so many golf balls in the house already that Isobeltalks of having an addition built over the kitchen for storage purposes.As my game has improved I have acquired such dexterity that I can buyballs from the caddies at the rate of four for twenty-five cents. If Ipractise regularly I believe I shall in time reach a point where I canbuy balls for five cents each. By holes, my best score is thirty-eightballs, made at the eighth hole on July 6th, from the red-headed caddyand the fat mowing man. My low score is one ball, made August 16th, atthe first hole. I never make a large score there, as it is near the clubhouse and the caddies are afraid of the Board of Governors.

  When golf is taken rightly it arouses the instincts of the chase in aman, and I now feel the same joy in running down a caddy and bargainingfor found balls that others feel in hunting wild animals. Golf, takenthus, is a splendid game.

  And I have found that if I use my putter only, and knock the ball but afew yards each stroke, there is no need of losing a ball from one end ofthe year to the other. But even then one must remember the cardinal ruleof all golfers--"Keep the eye on the ball."

 

‹ Prev