Spirit of the links

A HAPPY PARTY i 8 r
would be more unfortunate than the creation of any
misunderstanding which might lead to trouble in the
future.
The other day there was a little house-party of
golfers for a week-end, and it was a most delightful
gathering in all respects—fine weather, a rattling
good seaside links, with putting greens that inspired
the soul of the player to fine flights of genius, and
a host of the very best golfing type, in whom is
embodied all the best traditions and sportsmanship
of the game. Sternly contested singles in the morn-
ing of the first day, with the yellow autumn sun
shining and that pleasant nip in the air that braces
the golfer to great efforts when he takes the wood
out of his bag; a hard-fought foursome in the after-
noon; and then as they dressed to go down for dinner
on the evening of the first day, they reflected upon the
magnificent opportunities of the golfing life and the
poor state of those who were not such as they were
then. Dinner, the glass of old port, piquant stories
of the links and the recounting of brave deeds in fine
matches, and then by and by the testing of various
putting theories on the carpet—O! the happy, happy
golfer.
Forty years upon the links had one by one only
served to increase the host's enthusiasm for the game
of games. In all things he was the golfer first and
the ordinary individual afterwards. Like all ex-
perienced players, he was inclined to be dogmatic
and, as some would say, old-fashioned. But when
you say that a golfer is old-fashioned you are paying