Punch (103.1892)

November 19, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARJ. 229

Bulger persevered. He learned to waggle his club in a knowing
way. He listened intently when he was bidden to " keep his eye on
the ba'", and to be " slow up." True, he now missed the globe
and all that it inhabit, but soon he hit a prodigious swipe, well over
cover-point's head,—or rather, in the direction where cover-point
would have been. " Ye 're awfu' bad in the whuns," said the
orphan boy; and, indeed, Bulger's next strokes were played in
distressing circumstances. The spikes of the gorse ran into his
person—he could only see a small part of the ball, and, in a few
minutes, he had made a useful clearing of about a quarter of
an acre.

It is unnecessary to follow his later achievements in detail. He
returned a worn and weary man, having accomplished the round in
about a hundred and eighty, but in possession of an appetite which
astonished him. and those with whom he lunched. In the afternoon,
the luck of beginners attending him, he joined a foursome of Pro-
fessors, and triumphantly brought in his partner an easy victor. In
a day or two, he was drinking beer (which he would previously have
rejected as poison), was sleeping like a top, and was laying down the

THE MAN WHO WOULD.

II.—THE MAN WHO WOULD PLAY GOLF.

Bulger was no cricketer, no tennis-player, no sportsman, in
fact. But his Doctor recommended exercise and fresh air. "And
I'm thinking, Sir," he added, " that you cannot do better than just
take yourself down to St. Andrews, and put yourself under
Tom Morris." "Is he a great Scotch physician?" asked Bulger;
" I don't seem to have heard of him." " The Head of the Faculty,
Sir," said the medical man—"the Head of the Faculty in those
parts."

Bulger packed his effects, and, in process of time, he arrived at
Leuchars. Here he observed some venerable towers within a short
walk, and fancied that he would presently arrive at St. Andrews.
In this he was reckoning without the railway system—he was com-
pelled to wait at Leuchars for no inconsiderable time, which he
occupied in extracting statistics about the consumption of whiskey
from the young lady who ministered to travellers. The revelations

now communicated, convinced —■. law on stimy, and other " mys-

Bulger that either Dr. Morris i£^pMn1)Tf\ ^ J ___- teries more than Eleusinian."

was not on the lines of Sir ^^^MMllll] ----~ True, after the first three

Andrew Clark, or, as an ^^^^^O^j____--------- /--N, days, his play entirely deserted

alternative, that his counsels ^<3lf /y W%\ Bulger, and even Professors

were not listened to by travel- ^^wfav./ ^^^^-yV^—. ^?s§|l> £ave n^m a wide berth in

lers on that line. ^^^r^M/wA , \0V=yj^—EEzr~ ^sM5> making up a match. But by

Arriving in the dusk, Bul- ^^^'^Mi la!'(( $] steady perseverance, reading

ger went to his inn, and next —M/lilj, yyy^^^z v|i Ji0\\ ®ir Walter Simpson, taking

morning inquired as to the if f^mjfe UVziii^^ vMlP^ ou^ a professional, and prac-

address of the Head of the —zzn '1^^^ 1 x-^P^^ W^M{%r^^^ tising his iron in an adjacent

Faculty. " I dinna ken," said ^^P^lM^ l K&feii^wj VV-:" = • - field* Bulger soon developed

an elderly person, to whom -i^^^^S^^^-^^^S^'^^') ^^^=:^i^^^^^^--\^;5f5; to such an extent that few

he appealed, "that the Pro- "^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BT8*'j^^ ^^^^Z^i^^^fe Wv^^T" third-rate players could give

fessors had made Tom a "^^S^^l^^*^^^^^ c V=====^t^f^V fW^m^'^ - him a stroke a hole. He had

Doctor, though it's a sair and M0y ^Sv^-^-zi-kbeen *n considerable danger of

sad oversicht, and a disgrace ^-^^^-^^•^^K^g^mS^' \EEEE :' ^\W^fJP^~Sl^^ " a stroke " of quite a different

to the country, that they y l!^ / —L... character before he left Lon-

hae'na done sae lang syne. ^^:^^^::^====^^^ij^p ?~ don' and delights of the

But I jalouse that your Doctor . '^^^S^^^^r^^^^^^-^^^^*/ Par- But he returned to the

was jist making a gowk o' n--. - ^l/jI^^^,. x^^P^kVz=~r: Capital in rude health, and

ye." "What!" said Bulger. " "17--, ... '- ~ jjg^^^Ks'/^SsZ^*_.:: may now often be seen and

"Jist playin' a plisky on ye, '"^^ if^"—~<£fY ^^^fjTr: -v*^^^^rzz^zrr r heard, topping into the Pond

and he meant that Tom wad ._„.-'.• .. -.; W^-^^f ^^^lu/j^m^\- '. ... at Wimbledon, and talking in

pit ye in the way o' becoming ~^ -^^^^m^jg^/ -.^_____- a fine Fifeshire - accent. It

a player. Mon, ye're a bull- .^^<~^~^Z^^^e^s, '^ImkrfTK"' ; must be acknowledged that

neckit, bow-leggit chiel', and ^=^51^^-: ~''-;~~ x<:~' l his story about his drive at

ye'd shape fine for a Gowfer! _.,r.SA"7"--"-___■ — - ^^IgXv 7 the second hole, "equal to

Here's Tom." And, with this _— —— ^tlgll —^ ^»^\ Blackwell himself, Tom

brief introduction, the old -_S~^=~~ ^&^k w^lrtfl Morris himself told me as

man strolled away. ~~~^?sr°" illlk tfflmt much," has become rather a

Bulger now found himself ^r,-./■-t:r:^^--^4^^Si=~-; ■ ■■- -^^j^^^s^^z^^mj^r source of diversion to his

in the presence of Mr. Morris, ______ ..^.^^-wjss^^^^^ intimates; but we have all

whose courtesy soon put him "^^^^^^^^^n^^^^ our failings, and Bulger

on a footing of friendliness ^ never dreams, when anyone

and confidence. He pur- ^ ~^^^^^^^^^==^ says, "What is the record

chased, by his Mentor's advice, -Js^^^s^^^^^^^^^T;!^^^^^Sw»**_2> . drive?" that he is being

a driver, a cleek, a putter, drawn for the entertainment

a brassey, an iron, a niblick, and a mashy. Armed with these
implements, which were "carried by an orphan boy," and, under
the guidance of the Head of the Faculty himself, Bulger set forth
on his first round. His first two strokes were dealt on the yielding
air ; his third carried no inconsiderable parcel of real property to
some distance; but his fourth hit the ball, and drove it across the
road. "As gude as a better," quoth the orphan boy, and bade
Bulger propel the tiny sphere in the direction of a neighbouring
rivulet. Into this affluent of the main, Bulger finally hit the
ball; but an adroit lad of nine stamped it into the mud, while pre-
tending to look for it, and Bulger had to put down another. When
he got within putting range, he hit his ball careering back and
forward over the hole, and, " Eh, man," quoth the orphan boy,
" if ye could only drive as you put! "

In some fifteen strokes he accomplished his task of holing out;
and now, weary and desponding (for he had fancied Golf to be an
easy game), he would have desisted for the day. But the Head of
the Faculty pressed on him the necessity of "The daily round, the
common task." So his ball was tee'd, and he lammed it into the
Scholar's Bunker, at a distance of nearly thirty yards. A niblick
was now placed in his grasp, and he was exhorted to '' Take plenty
sand." Presently a kind of simoom was observed to rage in the
Scholars' Bunker, out of which emerged the head of the niblick,
the ball, and, finally, Bulger himself. His next hit, however, was
a fine one, over the wall, where, as the ball was lost, Bulger de-
posited a new one. This he, somehow, drove within a few feet of
the hole, when he at once conceived an intense enthusiasm for the
pastime. " It was a fine drive," said the Head of the Faculty.
"Mr. Blackwell never hit a finer." Thus inflamed with ardour,

of the sceptical and unfeeling. Bulger will never, indeed, be a
player; but, if his handicap remains at twenty-four, he may,
some day, carry off the monthly medal. With this great aim before
him, and the consequent purchase of a red-coat and gilt-buttons,
Bulger has a new purpose in existence, " something to live for,
something to do." May this brief but accurate history convey a
moral to the Pessimist, and encourage those who take a more radiant
view of the possibilities of life !

A Plebiscite for Parnassus.

[The result of the Pall MaWs competition for the Laureateahip has been
to place Mr. Eric Magkay and Mr. Gilbart-Smith first and second, and
Swinburne and Morris nowhere.]

A popular vote the Laureate's post to fill ?
Ay ! if Parnassus were but Primrose Hill.
The Penny Yote puts lion below monkey.
'Tis "Tuppence more, Gents, and up goes'the donkey /"

Quite Moving.—From Far and ISear and All Alive, are two
excellent " movable toy-books " that will please the little ones (when
their seniors are tired of playing with them) far into the Yule-tide
season. The author is Lothar Maggendorfer, a gentleman to whom
Mr. Punch wishes a "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."
This may appear a little premature, but it is a far cry from Eng-
land to Germany, and the Sage of Fleet Street has allowed for any
delays that may be caused by fogs, railway unpunctuality, and other
necessary evils.

vol. era.

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