Then he smiled feverishly and opened a package of hiccoughs. 

 When Clara Jane and I moved out on the links Lionel was watching the floor and trying to pick out a spot that didn't go 'round and 'round. 

 His chips were all in and he was Simon with the Souse, for sure. 

 Clara Jane said, "What a ridiculous person!" but what she meant was, that that would be about all from Lionel. 

 Then we chartered a couple of caddie boys and started in to render a few choice selections on the clubs. 

 My caddie boy's name was Mike, and he looked the part. 

 The first crack out of the box I lost my ball and Mike found it under his left eye. 

 I gave him a quarter to square myself and he said I could hit him on the other eye for ten cents more. 

 I made the first hole in 26, and felt that there was nothing more to live for. 

 Clara Jane could have made it in 84, but she used up her nerve watching a cow in the lot about two miles away. 

 My lady friend is a quitter when it comes to cows. 

 Then we decided to stop playing and walk around the links just so we could say that we had seen most of the United States of America. 

 Out near the Fifth hole we met young Mil Roberts and Frank Jenvey. 

 They were playing a match for 60 cents a side and they were two busy boys, all right, all right. 

 Mil had his sleeves rolled up to show the mosquito bites on his muscles, and Frank was telling himself how he missed the last bunker. 

 I asked Mil what time it was and he told me, "Three up and four to play!" 

 I suppose that was Central time. 

 I handed Frank a few bars of polite conversation but he gave me the Frostburg face. 

 Did you ever have one of those real players pass you out the golfish glare? 

 You for the snowstorm when you get it—believe me! 

 Prev. P 29/30 next