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Updated: May 10, 2025
'In our former war, he says, 'we had th' misfortune to have men in command that didn't know th' diff'rence between a goluf stick an' a beecycle; an' what was th' raysult? We foozled our approach at Bull R-run, he says. 'Ar-re ye a mimber iv anny clubs? he says. 'Four, says Willie. 'Thin I make ye a major, he says. 'Where d'ye get ye'er pants? he says. 'Fr'm England, says Willie.
"Other gin'rals iv th' r-rough-house kind, like Napoleon Bonypart, th' impror iv th' Frinch, Gin'ral Ulis S. Grant, an' Cousin George Dooley, hired coarse, rude men that wudden't know th' diff'rence between goluf an' crokay, an' had their pants tucked in their boots an' chewed tobacco be th' pound.
Manny's th' time I've bent me proud neck to a decision iv a coort that lasted no longer thin it took th' lawyer f'r th' definse to call up another judge on th' tillyphone. A judge listens to a case f'r days an' hears, while he's figurin' a possible goluf score on his blotting pad, th' argymints iv two or three lawyers that no wan wud dare to offer a judgeship to.
"An' what's this game iv goluf like, I dinnaw?" said Mr. Hennessy, lighting his pipe with much unnecessary noise. "Ye're a good deal iv a spoort, Jawnny: did ye iver thry it?" "No," said Mr. McKenna. "I used to roll a hoop onct upon a time, but I'm out of condition now." "It ain't like base-ball," said Mr.
The little boys is called caddies; but Clarence Heaney that tol' me all this he belongs to th' Foorth Wa-ard Goluf an' McKinley Club said what th' little boys calls th' players'd not be fit f'r to repeat. "Well, whin ye dhrive up to th' tea grounds" "Th' what?" demanded Mr. Hennessy. "Th' tea grounds, that's like th' homeplate in base-ball or ordherin' a piece iv chalk in a game iv spoil five.
'Topped th' ball. 'Three up an' two to play. Ah, here's the scoor. 'Among those prisint were Messrs. an' Mesdames" "Hol' on!" cried Mr. Hennessy, grabbing the paper out of his friend's hands. "That's thim that was there." "Well," said Mr. Dooley, decisively, "that's th' goluf scoor." "Th' Fr-rinch," said Mr. Dooley, "ar-re a tumulchuse people." "Like as not," said Mr.
''Twud be a tur-r'ble thing, he says, 'if some day they shud meet a Spanish gin'ral in Mahdrid, an' have him say to thim, "I seen ye'er son Willie durin' th' war wearin' a stovepipe hat an' tan shoes." Let us begin th' examination, he says. 'Ar-re ye a good goluf player? 'I am, says Willie. 'Thin I appint ye a liftnant. What we need in th' ar-rmy is good goluf players, he says.
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