It was not the spirit in which to approach the
lake-hole, and I was not surprised when the unfortunate girl's ball
fell with a sickening plop half-way across the water.
"Where you went wrong there," said George, "was that you made the
stroke a sudden heave instead of a smooth, snappy flick of the wrists.
Pressing is always bad, but with the mashie----"
"I think I will give you this hole," said Celia to me, for my shot had
cleared the water and was lying on the edge of the green. "I wish I
hadn't used a new ball."
"The price of golf-balls," said George, as we started to round the
lake, "is a matter to which economists should give some attention. I am
credibly informed that rubber at the present time is exceptionally
cheap. Yet we see no decrease in the price of golf-balls, which, as I
need scarcely inform you, are rubber-cored. Why should this be so? You
will say that the wages of skilled labour have gone up. True. But----"
"One moment, George, while I drive," I said. For we had now arrived at
the third tee.
"A curious thing, concentration," said George, "and why certain
phenomena should prevent us from focusing our attention---- This brings
me to the vexed question of sleep.
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