'That a good place?'
'Very good.'
'Arrange today for my becoming a member.'
* * * * *
Sandy McHoots arrived in due course, and was shown into the private
office.
'Mr. McHoots?' said Vincent Jopp.
'Mphm!' said the Open Champion.
'I have sent for you, Mr. McHoots, because I hear that you are the
greatest living exponent of this game of golf.'
'Aye,' said the champion, cordially. 'I am that.'
'I wish you to teach me the game. I am already somewhat behind schedule
owing to the delay incident upon your long journey, so let us start at
once. Name a few of the most important points in connection with the
game. My secretary will make notes of them, and I will memorize them.
In this way we shall save time. Now, what is the most important thing
to remember when playing golf?'
'Keep your heid still.'
'A simple task.'
'Na sae simple as it soonds.'
'Nonsense!' said Vincent Jopp, curtly. 'If I decide to keep my head
still, I shall keep it still. What next?'
'Keep yer ee on the ba'.'
'It shall be attended to. And the next?'
'Dinna press.'
'I won't. And to resume.'
Mr. McHoots ran through a dozen of the basic rules, and I took them
down in shorthand. Vincent Jopp studied the list.
'Very good. Easier than I had supposed. On the first tee at Wissahicky
Glen at eleven sharp tomorrow, Mr. McHoots. Hi! You!'
'Sir?' I said.
'Go out and buy me a set of clubs, a red jacket, a cloth cap, a pair of
spiked shoes, and a ball.'
'One ball?'
'Certainly. What need is there of more?'
'It sometimes happens,' I explained, 'that a player who is learning the
game falls to hit his ball straight, and then he often loses it in the
rough at the side of the fairway.'
'Absurd!' said Vincent Jopp. 'If I set out to drive my ball straight, I
shall drive it straight. Good morning, Mr. McHoots. You will excuse me
now. I am busy cornering Woven Textiles.'
* * * * *
Golf is in its essence a simple game. You laugh in a sharp, bitter,
barking manner when I say this, but nevertheless it is true. Where the
average man goes wrong is in making the game difficult for himself.
Observe the non-player, the man who walks round with you for the sake
of the fresh air. He will hole out with a single care-free flick of his
umbrella the twenty-foot putt over which you would ponder and hesitate
for a full minute before sending it right off the line. Put a driver in
his hands and he pastes the ball into the next county without a
