Mrs. Gerald had "pod," Gerald had "pond"; but they didn't define them
very cleverly and they were soon guessed. Mine, unfortunately, was also
guessed at once.

"It is what Dennis's golf is," I said.

"'Putrid,'" said Gerald correctly.

"Mine," said Dennis, "is what everybody has two of."

"Then it's not 'pound,'" I said, "because I've only got one and
ninepence."

"At least, it's best to have two. Sometimes you lose one. They're very
useful at golf. In fact, absolutely necessary."

"Have you got two?"

"Yes."

I looked at Dennis's enormous hands spread out on his knees.

"Is it 'pud'?" I asked. "It is? Are those the two? Good heavens!" and I
gave myself a mark.

A--A was the next, and we had the old Emu trouble.

"Mine," said Norah--"mine is rather a meaningless word."

"'Abracadabra,'" shouted everybody.

"Mine," said Miss Gerald, "is a very strange word, which----"

"'Abracadabra,'" shouted everybody.

"Mine," said Gerald, "is a word which used to be----"

"'Abracadabra,'" shouted everybody.

"Mine," I said to save trouble, "is 'Abracadabra.'"

"Mine," said Dennis, "isn't. It's what you say at golf when----"

"Oh lor!" I groaned. "Not again."

"When you hole a long putt for a half."

"You generally say, 'What about _that_ for a good putt, old thing?
Thirty yards at least,'" suggested Gerald.

"No."

"Is it--is it 'Alleluia'?" suggested Mrs. Gerald timidly.

"Yes."

"Dennis," I said, "you're an ass."

. . . . .

"And now," said Norah at the end of the game, "who's won?"

They counted up their marks.

"Ten," said Norah.

"Fifteen," said Gerald.

"Three," said his wife.

"Fourteen," said Dennis.

They looked at me.

"I'm afraid I forgot to put all mine down," I said, "but I can easily
work it out. There were five words, and five definitions of each word.
Twenty-five marks to be gained altogether. You four have got--er--let's
see--forty-two between you. That leaves me----"

"That leaves you _minus_ seventeen," said Dennis. "I'm afraid you've
lost, old man." He took up the shovel and practised a few approach
shots. "It's rather a good game."

I think so too. It's a good game, but, like all paper games, its scoring
wants watching.

A BILLIARD LESSON

I was showing Celia a few fancy strokes on the billiard-table. The other
members of the house-party were in the library, learning their parts for
some approaching theatricals--that is