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Updated: June 20, 2025
A fair specimen was the remark of his caddie to a player whose handicap was several strokes removed from scratch, and who, having become badly bunkered on one occasion, tried nearly every iron club in his bag in a vain endeavour to get out. The case was heartbreaking, and he turned despairingly to his caddie with the question, "What on earth shall I take now?"
When Captain Burt before this time had been in Edinburgh, a 'caddie' had preceded him on a scouting expedition with cries of 'haud your han', and among flank and rear discharges he had passed to his quarters.
Eventually she took off the ballroom episode with considerable feeling, forgetting, as she got deeper in the scene, all about Drouet, and letting herself rise to a fine state of feeling. "Good," said Drouet; "fine, out o' sight! You're all right Caddie, I tell you."
Its th' beginnin' iv ivrything. Whin ye get to th' tea grounds, ye step out, an' have ye're hat irned be th' caddie. Thin ye'er man that ye're goin' aginst comes up, an' he asks ye, 'Do you know Potther Pammer? Well, if ye don't know Potther Pammer, it's all up with ye: ye lose two points.
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-sacrifice that there is on record.
She was surprised at the briefness of the entire part, not knowing that she must be on the stage while others were talking, and not only be there, but also keep herself in harmony with the dramatic movement of the scenes. "I think I can do that, though," she concluded. When Drouet came the next night, she was very much satisfied with her day's study. "Well, how goes it, Caddie?" he said.
"There, Ellen," said Lydia Vesey, from a rare softness. "I guess nobody'd ever say 't you was growin' old. They'd only think you was sort o' palin' out, that's all, same 's a white dress is different from a pink one." "Well, now, I'll say my say, an' done with it," remarked Caddie Musgrave, with her accustomed violence.
Two others seem to be digging for buried treasure, unless it is too far off to be certain they are killing snakes. The remaining cripple, who has just foozled a mashie-shot, is blaming his caddie. His voice, as he upbraids the innocent child for breathing during his up-swing, comes clearly up the hill. The Oldest Member sighs. His lemonade gives a sympathetic gurgle. He puts it down on the table.
"What!" cried Mitchell. "The position," said Alexander, "will be falling vacant very shortly, as no doubt you know. It is yours, if you care to accept it." "You mean you mean you're going to give me the job?" "You have interpreted me exactly." Mitchell gulped. So did his caddie. One from a spiritual, the other from a physical cause.
An hour passed, and her blue eyes were fixed upon him with the same imploring force. He fidgeted, and at last longed childishly to see them wink. "Don't you want to see the doctor?" he ventured. "No," said Caddie, in the same tone of wild asseveration. "Doctors won't do me a mite o' good.
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