Evening Star Newspaper, July 14, 1935, Page 81

Mugazine Section Hlustrations by Harry Beckhoff " NGUS MCTAVISH was a man who all his life had taken golf with a proper seriousness, and in Evangeline Brackett he seemed to have found his female counterpart. She was not one of those girls who titter -- - “Tee-hee!"” when they top a drive. It was, indeed, her habit of biting her lips and rolling her eyes on such occasions which had first drawn Angus to her. On her side, respect for a man who, though slight of build and weighing but a hundred and forty pounds, could paste the ball twg hundred yards from the tee had speedily ripened into passion. After they had become engaged, no flaw appeared in their happiness until one spring morning when, coming up from the eighteenth green with the girl of his dreams, Angus McTavish was shocked to observe that there was a young man on the clubhouse veranda, leaning over the rail and blowing kisses to her. Now, no recently betrothed lover likes this sort of thing, and it jars him all the more sharply when the blower is a man of extra- ordinary physical attractions, with large brown eyes and a natural wave in his hair. “Who,"” Angus asked, “is that mugg?" “Eh?" said Evangeline. She was polishing her ball with a sponge, and her head was bent. “Fellow on the veranda. Seems to know you.” Evangeline looked up. She stared for a moment, then uttered a delighted yowl. “Why, it's Legs! Yoo-hoo!" “Yoo-hoo!"” “Yo00-hoo!”’ *Yo00-hoo!" As, at the beginning of this episode, they had not been more than four yoo-hoos' length from the veranda, they were now standing beside the handsome stranger. “Why, Legs Mortimer!" said Evangeline. “Whatever are you doing here?" The young man explained — in a manner which may have been merely brotherly, but which seemed to Angus McTavish rather fresher than an April breeze — that he had come to settle in the neighborhood and that while his bungalow was being made ready, he was established at the clubhouse. In making this statement, he addressed Evangeline once as ‘‘Sweetness,” twice as “‘kid,”” and three times as ‘‘darling.”’ “Splendid!"” said Evangeline. ‘‘You'll wake the place up."” -~ karewell o Legs THIS WEEK by P. G. WODEHOUSE *“Trust me, Beautiful. Trust old Legs, kid. There will be many a jocund party thrown in yonder clubhouse.” “Well, mind you invite me. By the way, this is my fiancé, Angus McTavish.” ‘““Angus McTavish?" cried Legs Mortimer. ““Hoot, mon! Scots wha hae! Hoo's a’ wi’ ye the morn's morn?”’ Angus, watching their speaker break into what appeared to be a Highland fling, became aware with a sinking heart that here was a life-and-soul-of-the-party man, a regular cut-up who simply makes you die with the things he says. He was thoughtful as he accompanied Evangeline to her home. *“This Mortimer,"’ he said dubiously. “Who is he? Where did you meet him? What is his handicap?” “1 met him when I was in Switzerland last winter. He was staying at the hotel. I believe he has a lot of money. He doesn’t play golf." “Doesn’'t play golf?"’ said Angus incredu- lously. “No. But he's wonderful at skiing." “Faugh!" “What?" “I said ‘Faugh!’ Skiing, indeed! What on earth does the fellow want to ski for? Isn't there enough sadness in life without going out of your way to fasten long planks to your feet and jump off a mountain? And don't forget this: From skiing to yodelling is but a short step. Do we want a world full of people singing ‘Ti-ra-ra-la-i-tu,’ orsomethingamount- ing to the same thing? I'll bet this Mortimer man of yours is a confirmed yodeller.” ““He did yodel a good deal,” admitted Evangeline. ‘‘He yodelled to the waiters.” “Why to the waiters?" “They were Swiss, you see. So he yodelled to them. He made us all scream. And he was always playing jokes on people.” ‘‘Jokes?" “‘Like giving them trick cigars. There was a Bishop staying at the hotel, and Legs gave him a cigar that went off with a bang. We all expired with mirth." Angus drew his breath in sharply. “So,"” he said, ‘“‘the man is not only a dangerous incendiary but utterly lacking in respect for the Cloth. Faugh!” “I wish you wouldn't say ‘Faugh!' " ! “Enough to make one say ‘Faugh!' " The joy had gone out of his world. A dark fog seemed to be spreading over the sunlit uplands of Angus's bliss. He viewed the future with concern. And he had reason to do so. Little by little, as the days went by, the conviction was forced upon him that Evangeline Brackett was be- coming infatuated with this trick-cigar merchant. That very first morning he had thought them a great deal too chummy. A week later, he was compelled to recognize that chumminess was a feeble and inadequate word. It was Legs this, and Legs that, and oh, Legs, and yoo-hoo, Legs, till he began to feel like a super standing in the wings watching Romeo and Juliet play their balcony scene. The one consolation which Angus had during this dark period was the fact that Evangeline had not faltered in her devotion to golf. She was practising diligently for the Ladies Spring Medal. And yet, though this consoled Angus, it did so only faintly. Of what avail was it to practise, he asked himself, if Legs Mortimer gave nightly parties and she persisted in attending them? Until the other’s arrival, Evangeline had been accustomed to go to bed at eleven after spending the evening with some good book such as Braid on Taking Turf. Now, it seemed a perpetual race bet ween her and the milkman as to which should reach her door first, with the milkman wiri- ning three times out of four. He tried to reason with her one morning when a sudden yawn had caused her to top a mashie niblick shot which a month before she would have laid dead to the pin. “What can you expect,” he said, “if you stop up half the night at parties?” Round the corner came Angus’s rival, cutting out an excellent pace, and after him, Evangeline “You don’t really think it's hurting my game, do you?" It is ruining your game." ‘““‘But everybody goes to parties. I'll bet, if you asked Glenna Collett, you'd find she goes to all sorts of parties.” “Not when she has an important match in prospect.’ ‘‘And Legs's parties are such fun. He makes them go so.” *‘Oh, yes?"’ said Angus coldly. ‘‘He's a perfect scream.” “Well, if you will take my advice, you will cut out these orgies."” I must go to the one next week. I promised I would; it’s his birthday.” “Then,” said Angus, “‘I shall come, too.” “But you'll ‘only go to sleep. You ought to see Legs's imitation of you going to sleep at a party. It's a scream.” ‘“Possibly,’” said Angus stiffly, ‘I may doze off for a while. But I shall wake up in time to take you home at a reasonable hour." *‘But I don’t want to go home at a reason- able hour.” “You would prefer to finish about six- teenth in the Ladies Spring Medal?”’ The girl paled. “Don’t say that.” *I do say that.” 5 *‘Sixteenth?’’ “Or seventeenth.” She drew in her breath sharply. ‘“‘All right, then. You shall take me home before mid- night.” Nothing but love could have forced Angus McTavish, when the appointed night arrived, to fish out the old boiled shirt and put on dress clothes and present himself at the club- house. The day had been unusually warm for the time of year, and he had played three rounds and was feeling that desire for repose and solitude which comes to men who have done their fifty-four holes under a hot sun. But tomorrow was the day of the Ladies Spring Medal, and at whatever cost to him- self it was imperative that Evangeline be withdrawn from the revels at an hour which would enable her to get a good night's sleep.