was Pin Pool or Jacks Only with the Deuce running wild.

One Sunday he was invited out to a Food Saturnalia at a Country Place.
The Dinner was postponed until late in the Day because they all
dreaded it so much.

Friend Host said he had a twosome on at the Club and was trying out an
imported Cleek, so he invited Mr. Pallzey to be a Spectator.

If he had said that he was going up in a Balloon to hemstitch a couple
of Clouds, it would have sounded just as plausible to Mr. Pallzey of
the Wholesale District.

The latter went along, just out of Politeness, but he was a good deal
disappointed in his Friend. It certainly did seem trifling for a
Huskie weighing one hundred and eighty to pick on something about the
size of a Robin's Egg.

Mr. Pallzey played Gallery all around the Course. He would stand
behind them at the Tee and smile in a most calm and superior Manner
while they sand-shuffled and shifted and jiggled and joggled and went
through the whole calisthenic Ritual of St. Vitus.

He was surprised to note how far the Ball would speed when properly
spanked, but he thought there was no valid excuse for overrunning on
the Approaches.

Mr. Pallzey found himself criticizing the Form of the Players. That
should have been his Cue to climb the Fence.

All of the Mashiemaniacs start on the downward Path by making
Mind-Plays and getting under Bogey.

Back on the sloping Sward between No. 18 and the Life-Saving Station,
the two Contestants were holding the usual Post-Mortem.

"Let me see that Dewflicker a minute," said Mr. Pallzey, as he
carelessly extracted a Mid-iron.

He sauntered up to the silly Globule and look an unpremeditated Swipe.
The Stroke rang sweet and vibrant. The ball rose in parabolic Splendor
above the highest branches of a venerable Elm.

Just as the Face of the Club started on the Follow Through, the
Bacillus ran up and bit Mr. Pallzey on the Leg.

He saw the blinking White Spot far out on the emerald Plain. He heard
the murmur of Admiration behind him. He was sorry his Wife had not
been there to take it in.

"Leave me have another Ball," requested Mr. Pallzey.

The Virus was working.

He backed up so as to get a Running Start.

"This time," quoth Mr. Pallzey, "I will push it to Milwaukee."

Missing the Object of Attack by a scant six inches, he did a Genee
toe-spin and fell heavily with his Face among the Dandelions.

The Host brushed him off and said: "Your Stance was wrong; your Tee
w