Evening Star Newspaper, September 30, 1923, Page 74

» A i Soeex Saturday. Milo Jenks, sentor assistant cashier of the First Federal Bank, watched his fellowworkers preparing for departure. Outside the door of the president’s office awalted the great man's colored servant, & bag bristling with golf- clybs in one hand, a fat valise on the tiled floor. i “Old Bayard loaded for bear, syre,” Rossiter, second assistant cashier, observed. “He's got more kinds and varieties of club in that bag than Chick Evans would use in a vear. “It i8n't often Mr. Bayard comes to the bank on Saturdays” Milo ob- served. “Yet 1 can remember when—"' “S0 can 1" interrupted Rossiter. “Used to turn up regular until he be- gan to play golf. Wish he'd hurry up | and get out of here. Want to catch; the one-thirty-five for Ardsley. Got a foursome on, 1 “Why don't you go, then? :u-.g Bayard never comes in here, espe- | cially when he's hurrying to clear| out,” “Guess I will,” Rossiter seized his bag of clubs and was off. Undeni- ably a great game, golf, Milo re- flected. But there could be no alter- native to his beloved brown brooks with their clean stones and tinkling waters, the whirring reel, the battle of wits against fish of divers sorts, but more especially against trout. Milo was reared In a land that sang with little rivers. But he never talked about it, for this was an age of golf. After a few minutes he rose and went into the office of Mr. Pudder, the cashier, Mr. Pudder was not a golfer. The bank was his one pas- sion. Already he was past the re- tiring age. At the moment he was bending over & detailed report. Jenks came to his side. “Is there anything I can do, Mr. Pudder.” ) No. No, nothing. Saturday, of course. Milo.” Milo turned away just as Phineas Bayard appeared in the doorway. “Pottering! Blrds of a feather, you two! Why don't you get out into the sunlight? Play something? Golf. Going to seed. Dying on your feet. Bah!" He swung himself around and walked heavily out of the bank to his motor. Pudder smiled compassionately. “Poor man! His temper grows worse year by year. Well—" He returned to his report. * ok K ¥ ENKS left the bank in thoughtful mood, Phineas Bayard's wrathful words and bellicose demeanor seemed to confirm rumors that had come to him in the past month. He was,to Ds passed over when Pudder retired; wad Rossiter would be made cashier, Milo forthwith hurried to the par- tei-room of the Hudson Terminal, where he had checked his grip and fishing-rods and, seizing them, sought a sporting goods store. “I want to learn to play golf,” sald he to the salesman. “What sticks do I have to get?” “Call 'em clubs” suggested the salesman, and sold him a midiron, & mashie, & niblick, a brassie, a driver and w putter, besides a bag and a dozen balls. Milo thrust his trout-rods into the bag and went uptown to his board- ing place, in Harlem. He met the boarding-house keeper In the hall- way. is Oh, is that you, Milo? Let's see, Why, it's No, run along, @8 Miss Place been about, Mrs. Hathaway?’' he asked. Miss Place was a teacher of mathematics in the normal school. “Not since luncheon,” Mrs. Hatha- ‘way smiled approvingly. It was the first time Milo Jenks had ever ex- pressed interest in the whereabouts of Prudence Place. That night after dinner Milo fol- lowed Prudence Place out of the din- ing room trembling upon the brink of brazen adventure. “Miss Place,” he said, “couldn't we ryn out to the movies tonight?” “Why not, Mr. Jenks? Why not?” Prudence queried. It happened just as Milo Jenks had always known it would happen if he ever let himself make leeway with Prudence Place. Her hand was trailing in the seat at her side, and accidentally Milo’s hand came in contact with it, The remainder of the play those two hands were as ope. Milo's original scheme had been to take Prudence out for the evening, in the course of which he would seek advice on how to proceed in the bu: ness of learning to play golf. He had heard she played golf at Wel- lesley, and he knew that occ #ly she went to some public course. Now the problem that had led to his interest in golf had become vast be- yond imagination. He leaned toward her. “Let's go out,” he suggested. nodded. “You'll have I can put on my ha Milo snatched his hand away. semi-gloom did not hide the that she was smiling placidly. ove!” exclaimed Milo when they “I remember,” he hur- ried, "four years ago when you came to the house. I knew right then and there that T—" He stammered and stopped. -Miss—Prudence Piace, how man; en have asked you to marry them?” “Not one that I wanted to asked me. “Suppose—suppose I should ask ¥o “Then,” she smiled, “I't have to ‘withdraw the answer I've just given.” “Look here, Miss Place, #—I—well, @8 6con as ever I saw you, I knew you were the—the——" He paused. “Bo J—I—well, I was afrald— “Was I so fearsome?” “T tell you—" They turned into a straet away from the crowd. ‘You see, my salary is 36,000 a year. Of that I give $2,600 a Sear to my father and mother in the old home in New Hempshire. So you see. I was atrald to love you because $3.600 in She {6 1et go my hand—so The fact day or Sunday, increduloug—"1 played.” young man, strut around them. that. president, came in. to believe that it was this officer who would use his influence to have Rossiter pass him to the cashier's desk. Jenks,” said Meachin. 4 went to Hudson Terminal, drew his collection| more usually recognized forms are of fish-rods from the bag, his golfing paraphernalia and went|memory, and may be utilized as occa- fishin in the north Jersey hills. how even unpusual voracity on thePete, the new han & part of the trout did not bring his|the end of that cant hook.” In fact, soul to ‘pea packed his thin, her arms Oh, I"m so glad to see you!" “No," he hastily interrupted. "I shouldn’t want tnmi——" His volce caught. She made no reply. And presently Milo managed to continu “Here is my point, Miss—PraZence. There 1s to be & new caShier in our bank soon. The salary is $10,000 at the start, Now, if I get that posi-- tion, will you marry me, Prudence?" “I think," shesald softly, “that you are wonderful to put It as you have. 1 have watched you long, Milo. 1 know your character, and T love it." She turned upon him quickly. 1 love you so, Milo, that I'm going to say this: When you feel you wish to marry me, you just do it—no matter what your circumstances are.” * ok % EXT morning Prudence took Milo up to the pyblic links in Van Cortlandt Park. “You see, Milo,” sald she, to whom the man had vouchsafed only & sport- ing motive for his desire to learn the game, “you take your driver this way—" She ussumed the approved pose. Milo coplgd her without a flay; but his right ‘elbow collided with his cherublo midrift. “I feared it,” he sighed. *“Nature never intended I should play golf. But' look here,” he sald, suddenly brightening, “why couldn't I adopt this 'style? Holding his body well back, he swung his arms like a pendulum and struck the ball fairly. It went not far, but straight. She shook her head. “That's all very well, But it jsn't good form, and-it would take you elghty to make nine holes, Let's try again.” At length Milo raised a care-worn face to his mentor. “Thank you a lot, dearest girl, it isn't for me.” “But you'll eateh it in time.” “No—I sha'n’t catch it in’time. It will be too late—" Milo checked him- self abruptly. “I mean It is too late now, to slow up everything trying to teach me togay. Let me Ji [ 4 along with you, hitting as I ca “Very well.” She did nine holes in fifty; and Milo finished In seventy, “Nine holes will be enough,” Pru- dence said, sheathing her putter. “Milo, you are going to do finely.” Milo, dissembled his emotions with a faint smile. “We'll try it again somo time. Now let's go. to that pretty little place we saw, and have luncheon.” Monday there was the usual talk of the game gver the luncheon table in the dining room the bank con- ducted. B “Had a great day at Ardsley,” asserted Rossiter. “Went out . in forty-four and came back in forty- five." Robsiter's volce was loud, because the president of the bank and the chalrman of the board happened to be at the adjoining table. Jenks cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling. “That so, Rossiter? I didn’t have s But a good day on the links either Satur. Don’t know what's the matter with my game lately.” Phineas Bayard's feroclousiy glit- tering eyeglasses were turned full upon Milo. was you '—Rossiter’s volce didn’t know “Bay, Jenk “There’'s a lot you don't know, Just because I don't d yell about golf in banking hout Jenks rgturned to his meal with a shrug. * k& ¥ MONG the employees of the First Federa! Bank bearing bags of golf clubs the next Baturday morn- ing was Milo Jenks. Ther was no incriminating hint of newn about Milo had taken good care of “But,” “what's these things you have in, here? I mean in the brown cases?"’ “Oh—fish-rods.” Milo smiled. “You see, one of the links where 1 play has a preyy good trout brook and sometimes I do a little fishing.” moment Meachin, the vice Milo had reason “Didn't know you golfed, “Oh, after a fashion, Mr. Meachin. Milo blinked modestly. Leaving the bank at 1 o'clock, Milo the parcel room of the checked His destination was a trout brook But some- Next morning, after breakfast, he and took the train back to the city. The first person he met in the returned from church. “Why, Milo!"- She stretched out ‘You old heart of gold! Then Milo knew why he had come home. Next morning when Milo ar- rived at the bank ‘@ group of men| sbout his desk had just finished ‘set-y $A%4L CICRRCRE: SR O 0T quiaite ting wp a large white plac: bear- ing the legend: “Jenks 75—Green 76." ‘Yeea, Jenks!" Bloxom,* the re- celving teller, séized him by the hand. ? ‘Bully boy, 'Jenki ‘The paying teller's hand ~descended upon his shoulder. Milo drew himself erect. “Wha the celebration, men?” he asked calmly. *“As it you had to ask, Jenks." Bloxom spread before him a news- paper, open at the sporting page. Th, as a marked p ph from 2 Verecy coast resort headed: “Jenks that In & defeats Green. The article stated briefly special match M. Jenks had defeated Sandy Gfeen, the profesional of the Sagway Country Club, one up, the previous day. “Well?”* Milo laughed shortly. ‘Any one'd think I had beaten Walter agen. He swept his arms apart. “Now elear out; I've got work .to do.” “I was thinking, Milo, I might take you on' for a game some time. Rossiter suggested. “But I guess I'm hardly in your class” | “Oh, well,"—Milo sbrugged,—“it's ntle- SOMETHING! GOLF!" all sport. I'm dated up But some time—we'll se Involuntarily Milo glanced at his calendar. Puddler was scheduled to retire on the 1at of July, At noon, the president of the bank sent for Jenks. “Well, Jenks™ he said, “what's this? Some one left this clipping on my desk. So the bank has an ex- pert, eh! What?" “Oh—" Jenks blushed. Mr. Bayard took off his eyeglasses. “Out with it, out with it, my boy. Here you play golf better than any of us, and yqu've never let any one know it. That's no way to get on In the world, Advertise yourself. Toot your horn. All right. Merely wanted to congratulate you.” *x %% HAT night Milo went home in gloomy mood. Later, in the soft darkness of a corner of the verandah, he bared his soul to Prudence Place, * 8he pressed his hand tightly. “Milo," she sair, “I don't wish to seem a casulst. Yet you deserve to succeed Mr. Pudder. Simply because you've devoted yourself to the dank, you are set down as going to seed. That is unjust, and it is right for you to try to give a better Impres- sion of yourself. she went on, “if you were going right on pretending about golt d never playing at all, that ay ahead. going to learn to play 8o you're merely discounting the futur “But you see, Prudence, sweetheart, that's just w I'm not going to do. I hate the game, and I never can learn to .play it. : “Oh, yes, you can, Milo, You're go- ing to start right in and—-" “Prudence, I'm not." ‘Milo, you simply have to; there" no way out now. You have made cer- tain statements at the bank. The BY LAWRENCE PHINEAS BAYARD APPEARED IN THE DOORWAY: “POTTERING! WHY DON'T YOU GET OUT INTO THE SUNLIGHT? PLAY time will surely come when you'll have to make good.” Milo groaned. “So you see, dear,” said Prudence, “the sooner we begin the better.” ‘Yes, I see.” « Moved by her con- fidence, he brightened, “Wae'll begin Saturday, real intensive work. And now"”—he seized her hand—"I want to tell you how I looked forward all day to seeing you." . Next day Rosaiter called up his favorite golfing writer and learned that the Jenks who figured at Skag- way was Milton Jenks, a young mid- western amateur of growing repute, Then Rossiter entered the private office of Meachin, the vice president, beaflng not only information, but a susgestion respecifully forwarded. He returned blithely to his desk. “Well, Jenks, who are you going to beat this week end?’ There was an undercurrent of menace (n the| apparently jovial remark that Milo caught instantly. “That's none of your business,” he said. He rose from 'his desk and came over to the man. “Look here, Rossiter, I haven't liked your manner lately. Hereafter if you want to con- verse with me, you'll have to confine yourself strictly to business.” In the remaining days of the week Milo caught hint of evil portents about the bank. Prudence Place had been called to her home on a matter of family business and he was thus doubly forlorn. Preclsely at 11 c'clock Saturday morning Phineas Bayard, the president, walked into the office, . “Jenks,” he sald, “you're the man to save the day for me. Have you any important golf match on?" “Why—why, no; that s, I—I—" “Well, then, that's fine. Arbuthnot has been beating me regularly it golf all season, and today Meachin had the impudence to suggest that Ar- buthnot and young Rossiter, there, could beat you and me at Sagamore this afternoon. I've bet him $i0 they can't.” The president turned to Ros- siter. “How about you? Can you Join in?" Rossiter promptly be only too delighted. The Arbuthnot in question was chairman of the board of & rival ba: aid he would k. + “But Mr. Bayard—" Milo had risen desperately to his feet. “I'm sorry, but I've had neuritis in both my arms so that—" a-ha!" Rossiter advanced into the situation. “I guess the neuritlé isn't so bad as to keep him away from the game. There are his clubs there.” Milo gestured. “I was merely going out to see if I couldn’t work out the kinks. You see, Mr. B pe 11 right, all right,” Interrupted the president. “You may Jjust as well work out the kinks In a game. Be ready to leave in half an hour. My car is outside.” . He went out of the office. Jenks, wrote briefly, and sealed what he had written in an envelope. This he addressed to Phineas Bayard and placed it in an inalde pocket. * ok ok €6Y70U fellows play golf because you love it. I play for my health,” grunted Phineas Bayard, as they motored golfward. “How long have you been playing, Mr. Bayard?” asked Rossiter. “Two years” Bayard replled. Milo looked up. “I had always regarded you as the plcture of health before that, Mr. Bayard,” “You didy eh,” hith not without interest. Bayard surveyed “Well, I Golf and a Girl and a Job don’t know that I didn't feel better before I took up golf than I have since.” “I think,” suggested Milo, “that it's & nervousg strain if you're not really fitted for the game. Now, my neu- ritis—-"" Rossiter laughted heartily. “His neuritis! Did you notice how he has been moving his arms, Mr. Bayard?’ Milo frowned. “If you play golf much, you are aware that one may move his arms, Rossiter, and yet not be in his best playing form.” * “Oh, stuff! Stuff!” Bayard's voice was.a growl. “Play the game, man. Play the game." “I'll do my best, sir. Arbuthnot had ordered the lunch- eon when the three arrived. Milo came to know the emotions of the condemned murderer who dines rich- 1y the night before his execution. Bayard who had won the privilege ot playing first for his side, tur tawgrd Milo. “Go ahead, Jenks; tee up. “I usually play behind, Mr. Bayard —unless you mind. Bayard glanced down at the ball reposing on the pyramid, stepped to one side and swung several times. “No hurry, of course, Bayard, no hurry,” admonished Arbuthnot, “We shan't get far at this rate.” “Humph!" Bayard straightened up and glared at his friend. “As if I was the one who always delayed things He took stance over the ball, raised the club over his shoulder, and swung. It was & complete miss. “Arbuthnot!" The irate Bayard shook his club at the man. “Would #wetBREAKING THE SOCIAL ICE*wsew Stephen Leacock Reviews Subject of Introductions. OTHING {s more important in introducing two people to each .other than to employ a fitting form of words. The N easlly learned and committed t( 1 pass over such rudl- shake hands slon requires. mentary formuls with ‘Jim Taylor, speaking. only of polite society graced by the fair sex. A very neat and convenlent form is that in vogue in 3rd avenye circles, New York, as, for instance, at fifty- hallway was Prudence Place, just| ents.a-head dance (ladies free) in the hall of the Royal Knights of Benevolence. Summersids meet Mr, after which Miss Summer- says very distinctly, “Mr. O'Hara,” and Mr. O'Hara says with equal clearness, ‘‘Mis Sulnmerside. brfleding' is found in the request to have the name repeated, “I don't quite catch: ‘the name!” says Mr. O'Hara critically; then he catches it and repeats 1t—"Miss Summerside.” “Catching the name,” is a neces- sary part -of . this - soclal ~encounter. It not caught the first time it must be put over. again. The pecullar merit of this introduction s that it Miss Summerside understand clearly that; Mr. O'Harz never heard of ler before: “That helps to keep her in her place., . In superior circles, however, intro- duction ‘Becomes more . elaborate, more flattering, more unctuous. It reaches its acme in ‘what every one recognis at once as the clerical method. e This 1s what would be instinctively used in Anglican cifcles—as, for ex- ample, by the Eplscopal Bishop of Boof in introducing a canon of the chureh to of the “lady workers” of the gation (meaning a lady too rich to m!)’wh’ 18 expected to endow a orfd in the Home for Cripples. "A' certain quantity of soul is to be infused into the' introduction. “Oh, Mrs. Putitover, may I Intro- duce my very dear old friend, Canon Cutitout? The canon, Mrs. Putitover, 18 one of my dearest friends. Mrs. Putitover, my dear canon, is quite one of our most enthusiastic’workers.” After which outburst of soul the bishod is able to add, “Will you ex- cuse me, I'm afraid I simply must run.” * ¥ Xk ¥ ERSONALLY, I have never known or met a bishop in society in any other situation than just about to run. ‘Where they run to I do not know. But I think I understand what they run from. Equally high in the social scale but done quite differently is the club. in- troduction. It is done by & cluf man who, for the life of him, can’t remem- ber ‘the name of either of the two club men whom he is introducing, and who each, for the life of him, can't think of the name of the man are beiny introduced by. It “Oh, I say, I beg your pardon—I thought, of course, you two fellows knew on® another perfeitly well— let me introduce—urr— — — Wurr Later on, after three nips of pre- war stuff, each of the three finds the names of the two others surreptitious; from the hall porter. * Now let us move up higher, in fact, very high., Let us approach the real I thing. . The most exalted form of introduc- | tion is seen in the presentation- ot Mr. Tomkins, a tourist, to H. E. the viceroy of India. An aie -camp {1 uniform at the foot of the grand staircase shouts, “Mr. Tomkins!” An alde-de-camp at the top (one minute later) calls “Mr. Thompson"; another 'our feet further on, calls “Mr. Then a military secretary, standing ‘close to his excellency, takes Mr, Tompkins by the neck and bends him down toward the floor and says very clesrly and distinctly, “Mr. . tipe.” Then he throws him out by the neck into the crowd beyond and calls for another. The thing is done. Mr. Tompkins wipes the perspiration from his hair with his handkerchief and goes back at full speed to the Hoogli Hotel, Calcutta, eager for sta- tionery to write home at once and say that he knows the viceroy. The one-sided office Introduction comes into our office, slipping past whoever keeps the door, with a packet of books under its arm. It say “Let «me introduce myself. The | book proposition which I am intro- ducing is one which wi thing on the market * Then, of two things, one— Either a crash of gl 18 heard as re ROW Pute I [the speaker is hurled through the skylight, or he walks out twenty minutes later, bowing profusely 2s he goes, and leaving us gasing in re- igned document entitling us. to ‘recelve the “Masterpieces of American Poetry” in sixty volumes. * ¥ kK VERYTHING on the stage s done far better than In real life. This 1s true of Introductions. -There is a warfith, a soul, In the st: introduc- tlon not known 1n the: Ehilly at mosphere of everyday goclety. Let me quote an example of a stage introduc- tion, the formula used in the best melo- dramatic art, in’ the ~kitchen-lving- room (stove right center) of the New England farm. S “Neighbor Jephson's son, this is my little gal, as mgod aweet & little gal, as mindful of her old father, as you'll ‘find in all New ' England. Netghbor Jepson's son, she's been my. all-{n all to me, this little gal, since I lald her mother in the ground five Christmases ago—"" &1 The spéaker is slightly overcome and leans against a cardboard clock for strength; he recovers and goes son's son, new back from over the seas, as fine & lad, gul, If he's 1l the folk that went beféore him, as ever followed the sea. Hope, your hand. My boy, your hand. See to his mfort, JHope, while I go and read the Book & spell in the barn- yard" " Many people, tired phrases of society, look back wist- fully to the simple direct speech of savage life. Such persons will find useful the usual form of introduc- tion (the shorter form) prevalent among our'North American Indians (at least as gathered from the best lit- erary model: “Friends and worthy, “See and look with all your eyesight, “Listen with your sense of hearing, “Gather with your apprehension— “Bow your heads, O tre and hearken. “Hush thy rustling, corn, and listen; “Turn thine ear and give attention; “Ripples of the running water, “Pause & moment In your channels— Here I bring you—Hlawatha. The last line of this can be changed to suit the particular case. It can lly read, at the end, “Here comrades who are “Here is Hal McGiverin, Junior. Here is a- form of introduction eruelly tamiliar to those who know it. It is used by the sour-looking villain facetiously called In newspaper r ports the meeting. ‘While he is saying it the victim #n his little chair on t! for the eyes of a thousand people who are wondering why he wears odd socks. “The next speaker, ladl tlemen, is one who tion to this gathering. His name (hare the chajfrman consults a little ] card) “is one that has become a household word. His achievements in" (here the chairman looks at his card again, studles it, turns it up- side down &nd adds) “in many direc- tions are familiar to all of yo! There is & feeble attempt at ap- plause and the chairman then lifts his hand and says in a plain busines like tone, “Will those of the audience who are leaving “ind.y step as light- ly as possible.” Ke is about to sit down, but then adds as & pleasant afterthought for the speaker to brood over, “I may say while I am on my feet that next week eur soclety is to you mind. not clearing your throat Bayard once more addressed his ball and topped it grievously. It rolled fifty feet from the t and stopped. g at He “A healthy swat, Again Bayard glares Arbuthnot, “All right, Jenk: beckoned to Milo. now." Milo teed his ball, stood to one side and made & practice swing. But he did so, he assumed & wince of pain. Then he raised his driver stiff. armed, and swung pendulum-wise, The ball rose, described a parabola, and came to earth nearly 100 yards away, “Well!” Bayard chuckled. “Not so bad for a cripple, Come on, Arbuth- not.” Arbuthnot constructed a pyramid of sand with meticulous care and placed the ball on the apex. He took position and raised his club, moving one foot after the other in sort of syncopated rhythm. Then he changed his stance, moving his feet in a different position with ref- erence to the ball. Then he returned to his original pose. ‘By * the gods!" Bayard heavily agalnst the sand box. But now Arbuthnot raised his elub over his shoulder, struck, and the ball alled away on raight line for a hundred yards and then rolled an- other twenty-five. “Ah Not so bad, not so bad.” Arbuthnot chuckled. “I might have done wor! 'You bet you might,” commented the envious Bayard, Rossiter struck his ball cleanly and it went away singing. * ¥k x AYARD managed to pitch his ball out of the tall grass onto the fair- way; Milo sent his rolling forward some soventy yards, Milo's whole demeanor was dogged. The sun he knew, would his fate sealed. Arbuthnot made a fine shot with his cleek, landing t! ball twenty- five feet his side of a bunker with the hole not far beyond, while Ros- siter got to one side of the bunker with & nice lie for a pitch to the green. Then Bayard got in a good iron shot, and Milo, with unerring accuracy but forlorn distance, pushed his ball toward the green. Both opponents made the green in their next shots and paused to wait for Milo and Bayard to come up. Bayard swung with cold venom. It was & screaming shot. The ball at- tained a height of about ten feet and then went on a line. “The best shot I ever—" Words ended In a howl of anger. For the hurtling pellet finally brought up to the trap at the base of the bunker. ‘When Milo suceeeded in driving his ball into a similar position he came up in time to witness Bayard strik- ing at his ball rapidly and furiousl. Milo knew that he offered a new and more tangible target for Bayard's fury, and he held it to the pres! dent's credit that he choked down whatever was in his mind. . “We'll pick up, Jenks” he said coldly, “and what happens in the next. In the course to the second green Bayard had better luck. He took honors for his side in two holes, anks to a hook that Rossiter had eveloped, and his satisfaction was 80 great that he never gave his part- ner definite thought, which was well. At the ninth hole Bayard and Milo were six down. The eighth had been one of the holes the bank president had won, leaned our Neuritis! game ought to be croquet. Stufr! What you've got is old Pudder! that ninth hole? Oh, yes, got to be careful here.” He was right. The tee was bound- ed on the left by a de ‘wood, and on the right by a wheatfield. Bayard took stance, and as he swung, there came a clatter behind him, in drawing his driver had pushed the recep- tacle toward his caddy, who at the moment had chanced to look away. The bag of clubs thus had crashed to the ground. At that instant Bayard sliced his ball cleanly into the woods. ‘Well—" The president turned and saw the caddy picking the bag from the ground. “Did you drop that, boy?” “No, I didn’t,” asserted the urchin, pointing at Milo, “That man did. “Mr. Baya Milo Jenks was about to unleash ail that had been athering in his soul when Bayard raised his hand. ever mind! Neve snarled. “For heaven's play golf.” But the slice had evidently come to stay. yard bombarded those woods with six additional golf balls before he gave up. Then he gave vent to fervid metaphor. T'm through,” he concluded. “This comes of playing with a duffer. Look here, Jenks, where did you ever et your repu—' ‘Bayard! Bayard Arbuthnot’, voice was bellicose. “Just because you are playing poorly, I object to your knocking me out of my game. It I keep on this way I'll'lower my best score by flve hol Go on, If you're not & child, and play the game out. Stop bawling your partner out. It's all upsetting.” ‘Child!" Bayard bristled. “All right, T'll show who's a quitter. Go on and Adrive, Jonks." Jenks did his usual croquet shot. Arbuthnot and Rossiter got away with good driv “Come on.,, We'll go into the woods and find one of those balls, anyway.” “Why don't you drive anothe: Bayard?' suggested Rossiter respect- full. ‘Because I don’t want to. shead, Jenka. * ok ok ok ILO and the two caddies avcom- panied Bayard into the woods. Two balls were easily discovered. One of them was on®he bank of a beauti- ful woodland stream that flowed over flat stones, clean and brown. Bayard ignored the ball. gasing down into the brook. “Jove, that's beautifull” Upon hi face was an expression ef peace. “Looks as though there might be fish in there," ol ks, lean- ing forward, e two, ‘Tve heard mind!” he ke, let me Come “Maybe one or He stood | who are engaged in clerical work trout have been seen here,” returnea Bayard. He looked up. “I suppose ¥you know as much about trout 2s you do about golf?” Jenks flushed. He knew the stroke of fate had fallen. He and Bayard were simply two men now, ‘Look in thes He was pointing 7 toward a stllly backwater under the opposite bank. “There’'s & fish in there.” “How do you know?” Bayard leaned forward, staring. “Fve—I just know. would know."” “I'm a fisherman,” Bayard's face grew soft. “That is, I was, Fishea ever since I was a boy.” Milo's throat caught. “Why did you stop, Mr. Bayard”™ he asked at length. “Oh, various reasons. Bayard shrugged. Then his eyes narrowed. “Jenks, you were supposed to know something about golf, and— “Mr, Bayard, T don't know a thing about golf, and I don't want to know anything. T was putting up a joke on young Rossiter, and the joke got out of hand. But as for fishing—1 He grew rigid, his eyes upon the water. “Did you ses that, Mr, Bay- ard?” Bayard turned to the brook where circles were radiating from under the opposite bank. “A fish!" His eyes were ablaze. “Wait a minute! Here, caddy Milo reached Into the bag and drew forth his canvas case. "flls_h!" Quickly drawing out a rod and jointing it, he took a fly-hook from his pocket. Bayard tiptoed to his side, looking over his shoulder. “You'd better try a silver doctor, he whispered excitedly. “Light's softening.” Milo shook his head. “Look at the insects over the water there. No, Montreal coachman, “"Well—well, you may be right.” “I know I am.” * ok k¥ “IITH & deft snap of the wrist, Milo shot_the fly into the pool with the accufacy of a sharpshooter. Nothing. He cast agaln in another Any fisherman Bayard'reached for Let me try. I can't cast half as well as you, but I want the feel.” Out went the fly. As it landed the surface of the water was broken by an uprushing trout, which took the iy so greedily that it sprang clear of the water, “Ye gods!" Bayard played the fish, breathing fervent efaculations, step- ping lithely along the bank, until at ! last he brought the speckled captive to his feet. Ye gods!” He smiled beatifically Jenks seized the fish and took it from the hook. “Wasn't that wonderful! Is there anything in sport that matches fish- ing, Jenks?" , othing that I know of, Mr. Bay- ard. Nothing!” “Jenks, I've dome more cursing since I took up golf, and spolled more meals by stewing over bad scores and things, than ever in my life be- fore.” “Of course,” said Jenks, “golf is a great game. But if fishing {sn't the best exercise, why then——" “Certainly it is, Jenks, certainly it is” Bayard clashed his hands to- gether. “That fool, MacArthur, my physician, is a golf crank, That's thel answer to the life I've been leading.” His voice fell. “You see, Milo, Dan Jessup and I had fished for thirty years together, Well, Jessup died, died, and 1 stopped fishing. Then I got gouty, and MacArthur sicked me onto golf.” He turned upon his companion, “You get something in the woods, Milp, something you can get nowhere else.” “I don’t suppose, Mr. Bavard, that Dr. MacArthur meant you should give up fishing altogether.” * 4 Bayard frowned. “Hang him! I can’t do two things. Ho! Look here, my boy. You and I are going to have some fun this week. We'll pack tonight and go up to & place in Canada I know, where—-« Well, what's the matter?" ‘Nothing, Mr. Bayard,” Jenks re- plied, “except that—well, you know there's rather an interesting situa- tion in the bank. 1 mean Mr. Pud- der's successor. I shouldn't wish to be away while that was being set- tled.” “Humph! Tl settle that right now. You're his successor, Jenks. You're in line. That's fixed. Anything else that's bothering you ' “Well, you see, sir, T have just be- come engaged to be married, and T was wondering if yoy'd think I was warranted ‘in writing to—to Miss Prudence Place tonight and advising her about my promotion.” “Certainly you are. But look here, young fellow, we may have a lot of fishing trips in the future. How will she stand on that?” “Oh, I know that will be perfectly all right, sir.” “Good. Jenks, a woman that won't stand up and smile when you pack up and say, ‘I'm goin’' fishing’; is no woman to marry.” No, sir. I mean you're quite right, sir,” replied Milo Jenks. (Copyright, 1923.) Occupations of Women. ALTHOUGH women are much more generally employed in what the censue calls “gainful occupations” than they used to be, there are de- cidedly fewer employed in what were formerly considered as the most suit- able feminine activities. The census bureau has published some figures béaring on the matter. In the state of New York, for example, there were actually fewer women teachers, tel- ephone operators and laundresses in 1920 than there were in 1910. As for the seamstresses and dressmakers, their number has diminished by half. On the other hand, the number of stenographers has increased in taw years from 49,281 to 108,721. Those are now 95208, as against 27,191 wud bookkeepers and cashiers havg creased from 33,603 to 60,424, dentally, there are now 333 wi edores instead of 7, and 41 w| policemen, where in 1910 there Bone.