cisely the
same movement as that of a thunder-bolt--thus:

[Illustration]

"Great ball, eh?" said Jupiter. "Adds a lot to the science of the
game. A straight putt is easy, but the zigzag is no child's play."

"I think I shall like it," I said, "if I ever get used to it."

The second hole reached, I was astonished to see a huge apparatus like
a cannon on the tee, and in fact that is what it turned out to be.

"We call this the Cannon Hole," said Jupiter. "It lends variety to the
game. It's a splendid test of your accuracy, and if you don't make it
in one you lose it. If you will put on those glasses you will see the
hole, which is in the middle of a target. You've got to go through it
at one stroke."

"That isn't golf, is it?" I asked. "It's marksmanship."

"I call it so," said Jupiter, calmly. "And what I say goes. Moreover,
it requires much skill to offset the effect of the wind."

"But there is none," said I.

"There will be," said Jupiter, putting his ball in the cannon's breach
and making ready to drive. "You see those huge steel affairs on either
side of the course, that look like the ventilators on an ocean
steamer?"

"Yes," said I, for as I looked I perceived that this part of the
course was studded with them.

"Well, they supply the wind," said Jupiter. "I just ring a bell and
AEolus sets his bellows going, and I tell you the winds you get are
cyclonic, and, best of all, they blow in all directions. From the
first ventilator the wind is northeast by south; from the second it
is southwest by north-northeast; from the third it is straight north,
and so on. Winds are blowing at the moment of play from all possible
points of the compass. Fore!"

A bell rang, and never in a wide experience in noises had I ever
before heard such a fearful din as followed. A hurricane sprang from
one point, a gale from another, a cyclone from a third--such an aeolian
purgatory was never let loose in my sight before, but Jupiter, gauging
each and all, fired his ball from the cannon, and it sped on, buffeted
here and there, now up, now down, like a bit of fluff in the chance
zephyrs of the spring-tide, but ultimately passing through the hole in
the target, and landing gently in a basket immediately behind the
bull's-eye. The winds immediately died down, and all was quiet again.

"Perfectly great!" I said, with enthusiasm, for it did seem
marvellous. "But I don't think I can do it. You win, of course."

"Not at all," sai