drive; about two hundred yards, I
should say, but for the apparent effort expended I have never seen a
more perfect shot.

"Why in thunder don't you hit it hard, Wallace?" demanded Bishop. "Soak
it, man, soak it! That was only a love tap."

I would rather have stood in the shoes of that "hired man," and listened
to the comments of those three girls, than to rival the eloquence of
Demosthenes, and withstand the surges of the applause of admiring
thousands.

"Let me drive two or three easy ones, Mr. Bishop," Wallace said, placing
another ball on the turf, "and then I will press a bit, and see if I
have lost the feel of a full swing."

It was a wonderful exhibition of clean, long driving. He teed a dozen
balls, and I doubt if one of them fell fifteen yards outside the line of
the lone walnut tree which had been selected as the target. The ground
was fairly level, and Mr. Bishop and I paced the distance to the outer
ball. We agreed that it was about two hundred and forty yards from the
point driven, and seven of the twelve balls were found within a radius
of fifteen yards. In fact all of them would have been on or near the
edge of a large putting green.

I have seen longer driving, but nothing equalling it in accuracy or
consistency.

"It is very much better than I had expectation of doing," said Wallace.
"That is a well-balanced club of yours, Mr. Smith, but a bit too short
and whippy for me."

He good-naturedly consented to try lofting and approaching shots. On the
start he was a little unsteady, due probably to lack of familiarity with
my clubs, which are made to conform with some of my pet hobbies. After a
few minutes' practise he got the hang of them and did really brilliant
work.

With a mashie at one hundred and twenty yards he dropped ball after ball
within a short distance of a stake which served to indicate a cup. He
picked them clean from the turf, lofting them with that back-spin which
causes them to drop almost dead. It was the golf I have always claimed
to be within the range of possibility, but I never hoped to see it
executed. Even Bishop was impressed with the skill displayed by his
employee, and as the balls soared true from his club, like quoits from
the hand of a sturdy expert, the farmer grinned his appreciation.

"I don't know much about this here game, Jack," he said, as Wallace
rejoined us, "but it looks to me as if this man of mine has you Woodvale
fellows skinned a mile. Tell you what I