Monday, August 29, 2011

P.G. Wodehouse and golf

"Provided luck was with him and the lie not too desperate, a mashie would put him on the carpet.  It was only when he reached the rough and saw what happened that his heart sank.  There the ball lay, half hidden in the grass, while above it waved the straggling tentacle of some tough looking shrub.  Behind it was a stone, and behind the stone at just the elevation to catch a back-swing of the club, was a tree.  And, by an ironical stroke of fate which drew from Bradbury a hollow, bitter laugh, only a few feet to the right was a beautiful smooth piece of turf from which it would have been a pleasure to play one’s second..

Dully, Bradbury looked to see how Bott was getting on.  And then suddenly, as he found that Bott was completely invisible behind the belt of bushes through which he had just passed, a voice seemed to whisper to him, ‘why not?’

Bradley Fisher, remember, had spent thirty years in Wall Street."

The Heart of a Goof, P.G. Wodehouse, High Stakes, page 49

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