ng always ready with the appropriate club, and, if need be,
with the appropriate comment.

But I don't like to see this anxiety for the success of one's fortunes
upon the links carried to excess. It is then a disturbing factor, and
its humorous aspect does not always appeal to one as it should. Some
golfers might be flattered when they come to know that their caddies
have backed them to the extent of half the remuneration they will
receive for carrying the clubs for the round. It is a touching
expression of the caddie's belief in them. But after all this kind of
thing does not help to make a good caddie. Apart from other
considerations, it does not make the boy carry any the better because he
is over-anxious about the result of the match, and, though some golfers
might be inclined to ridicule the suggestion, it nevertheless is a
disturbing element in one's game if one knows that even the caddie will
be very deeply concerned if every stroke does not come off just as well
as it ought to do. The caddie is not above letting you know of his
wager; sometimes he will even tell you of it. Two golfers of some
Highland celebrity were playing a match one day at Luffness, and after a
hard round they came to the eighteenth tee all square and but this one
hole to play. At this critical stage of the game the caddie of one of
them approached his master and nervously whispered to him, "Please, sir,
wad ye do your very best here, for there's money on this match." And the
golfer did try to do his very best indeed, but he pressed and he
foozled, and he lost the hole and the match. Sympathetically he turned
to his caddie to ask him what was the amount of the lost wager that he
might pay it for him and soften his disappointment. "It was a penny,
sir," said the boy.

But despite his constant sarcasm and his utter inability to tolerate
anything except the very best in golf, there is after all much good
human kindness in your caddie if he is worthy of the name. "Big
Crawford" will always be remembered as a fine specimen. On the day when
Mr. A.J. Balfour played himself into the captaincy of the Royal and
Ancient club, a gentleman who was looking on, and who was well
acquainted with the fact that when Mr. Balfour was in Ireland as Chief
Secretary he never played a round of any of the Irish links without
having plain-clothes detectives walking fore and aft, inquired very
audibly, "Is there no one looking after Mr. Balfour now?" "Big Crawford"
wa