two or three more, and is in a desperate state of
lost temper. An alternative result to his efforts comes about when he
has played these three or four more, and his ball is, if anything, more
hopelessly bunkered than ever. All sense of what is due to the game and
to his own dignity is then suddenly lost, and a strange sight is often
seen. Five, six, and seven more follow in quick succession, the man's
arms working like the piston of a locomotive, and his eyes by this time
being quite blinded to the ball, the sand, the bunker, and everything
else. As an interesting feature of what we might call golfing
physiology, I seriously suggest that players of these habits and
temperament, when they begin to work like a steam-engine in the bunker,
do not see the ball at all for the last few strokes. The next time they
indulge in their peculiar performance, let them ask themselves
immediately afterwards whether they did see it or not, and in the
majority of cases they will have to answer in the negative. When it is
over, a few impious words are uttered, the ball is picked up, and there
is a slow and gloomy march to the next tee, from which it is unlikely
that a good drive will be made. The nervous system of the misguided
golfer has been so completely upset by the recent occurrences, that he
may not recover his equanimity until several more strokes have been
played, or perhaps until the round is over and the distressing incidents
have at last passed from his mind.

This has been a long story about a thing that happens on most links
every day, but the moral of it could hardly have been emphasised
properly or adequately if it had been told in fewer words, or if the
naked truth had been wrapped up in any more agreeable terms. The moral
obviously is, that the golfer on being bunkered must concentrate his
whole mind, capabilities, and energies on getting out in one stroke, and
must resolutely refrain from attempting length at the same time, for, in
nine cases out of ten, length is impossible. There are indeed occasions
when so light a sentence has been passed by the bunker on the erring
ball that a long shot is practicable, but they are very rare, and come
in an entirely different category from the average bunkered ball, and we
will consider them in due course. On the other hand, there are times
when it is manifestly impossible even to get to the other side of the
bunker in a single stroke, as when the ball is tucked up at the foot of
a s