310 SPORTING STORIES 



croquet that they have introduced here. It's taking 

 everyone to the green nowadays. They won't play 

 billiards, sir, as long as they can get that confounded 

 Scotch croquet." 



There is a story told of a golf enthusiast who, when too 

 old and feeble to enjoy his favourite pastime out of doors, 

 converted his billiard-table into a miniature links, and in 

 that form satisfied his craving for the game. 



A gallant general, who had never handled a golf-club till 

 he was well on in years, was a regular attendant at the 

 parish church, where he occupied a prominent position in 

 the front of the gallery. During one of those long prayers 

 — not now so common as formerly, and when standing and 

 not kneeling was the orthodox posture — the minister 

 observed the eyes of many of the congregation turned in 

 the direction of the gallery. Looking up, he saw the 

 general — always a pattern of strict decorum — grasping a 

 large psalm-book tightly with his left hand, and guiding it 

 with the right ; now lifting it slowly above his head, then 

 bringing it rapidly down, and just grazing the desk in 

 front with a smile of satisfaction on his face. Fortunately 

 the pause which the minister made brought the general to 

 " attention," and the prayer was resumed. 



When the subject of golf enthusiasm, however, is brought 

 on the tapis, old stagers will assure you that the " cake " is 

 taken by the " Cock o' the Green," Alexander M'Kellar, 

 the hero of one of Kay's Portraits. 



He spent the whole day playing on Bruntsfield Links ; 

 even when night fell he could not tear himself away, but 

 played the " short holes " by lamplight. As M'Kellar 

 could not play on Sundays, he acted as door-keeper to 

 a church in Edinburgh. One day Mr Douglas Gourlay, 

 a well-known club- and ball-maker, jocularly placed a 

 golf-ball in the plate instead of his usual donation ; as he 

 anticipated, this prize was at once secured by M'Kellar, 

 who was not more astonished than gratified by the 

 novelty of the deposit. 



Apropos of playing by lamplight, there is a still more 

 remarkable instance of nocturnal golf. 



A match was got up at the race ordinary at Montrose, 



