In spite of his austere
views, the High Priest, always a keen student of ritual, became
interested.
"Why does your Majesty do that?"
"I tee it up that it may fly the fairer. If I did not, then would it be
apt to run a long the ground like a beetle instead of soaring like a
bird, and mayhap, for thou seest how rough and tangled is the grass
before us, I should have to use a niblick for my second."
The High Priest groped for his meaning.
"It is a ceremony to propitiate the god and bring good luck?"
"You might call it that."
The High Priest shook his head.
"I may be old-fashioned," he said, "but I should have thought that, to
propitiate a god, it would have been better to have sacrificed one of
these _kaddiz_ on his altar."
"I confess," replied the King, thoughtfully, "that I have often felt
that it would be a relief to one's feelings to sacrifice one or two
_kaddiz_, but The Pro for some reason or other has set his face
against it." He swung at the ball, and sent it forcefully down the
fairway. "By Abe, the son of Mitchell," he cried, shading his eyes, "a
bird of a drive! How truly is it written in the book of the prophet
Vadun, 'The left hand applieth the force, the right doth but guide.
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