New Walks in Old Ways 



ing that bird-dog hurrying along the 

 hedge, with nose close to the grass. 

 I think he saw me following the course 

 of the dog rather than the erratic 

 flight of our golf ball, but he wasn't 

 supposed to address me or comment 

 upon anything in the heavens above 

 nor the earth below, because he was 

 just a caddy; and of course you have 

 no reason to expect a live, wholesome, 

 nature-loving boy of ten to be any- 

 thing else, when carrying your golf 

 bag, but the personification of dignity 

 and attention to the business of the 

 hour. But somehow some form of 

 mental telepathy seemed to be working 

 as between the two — the old boy and 

 the young — and the life that was in 

 evidence all around us; and the more 

 gophers and big brown caterpillars we 

 saw the more shots it seemed to re- 

 quire to get that golf ball into the cup 

 we were supposedly headed for. A 

 "scrappy" sparrow, or something — 

 perhaps the boy knew, I didn't know 



[54] 



