for the tee shot. The boy did not seem to understand. "Make
a tee, boy," exclaimed the player a second time sharply, but still there
was no response, and then the man called for some sand, bent down and
made the tee himself. At this the boy attributed the failure of his
understanding to the player's limited powers of expression, and somewhat
scornfully exclaimed, "Why, if you had told me it was a cock-shot that
was wanted, I should have known what you meant!" On competition days at
Ganton we had often to secure a number of lads who had never seen the
game played before, and very interesting specimens of the youth of
Yorkshire they often were. One day, I remember, a competitor pulled his
ball very badly, and his caddie, who had gone on a little way in front,
received it hard on a very tender part of his head. He was not seriously
hurt, but much pained, and forthwith, excusably perhaps, he gave way to
tears. To soothe him his employer presented him with half a sovereign.
The tears suddenly ceased, the boy's face broke into a happy smile, and
a moment later, when the two were trudging away towards the hole, the
youngster ingenuously inquired, "Will you be coming out again this week,
sir?"

There is a kinship between this story and that of the caddie at North
Berwick, son of the greenkeeper there, some years ago, when first he
began to carry clubs. He was a very precocious little fellow, and the
player for whom he had been engaged to carry for the day was a
well-known golfer from the south. When the day's play was far advanced,
and the time of reckoning was drawing nigh, the boy seized an
opportunity of sidling close up to his patron and asking him, "D'ye ken
Bob S----?" the said Bob being one of the notabilities of the links. The
player answered that he had not the pleasure of Mr. Robert's
acquaintance so far, and inquired of the boy why he asked such a
question. "Weel," was the answer, "it's a peety ye dinna ken Bob S----.
He's a rale fine gentleman, for he aye gies twa shillin' a roond for
carryin' till'm; no like some that ca' themsels gentlemen, an' only gie
a shillin'."

But lest it should be imagined from the recital of these incidents that
the caddie is invariably over-greedy, and that he has no soul for
anything but the pecuniary reward of his service, let there by way of
contrast be told the story of the boy who was willing to carry clubs for
nothing--the one solitary instance of such a disposition to
self-sacr