To escape from this train of reflection, I put a golf – ball in my pocket, and selecting a driver, strolled out into the paddock. A couple of sheep were browsing there, and they followed and took a keen interest in my practice. The one was a kindly, sympathetic old party. I do not think she understood the game; I think it was my doing this innocent thing so early in the morning that appealed to her. At every stroke I made she bleated:

"Go – o – o – d, go – o – o – d ind – e – e – d!"

She seemed as pleased as if she had done it herself.

As for the other one, she was a cantankerous, disagreeable old thing, as discouraging to me as her friend was helpful.

"Ba – a – ad, da – a – a – m ba – a – a – d!" was her comment on almost every stroke. As a matter of fact, some were really excellent strokes; but she did it just to be contradictory, and for the sake of irritating. I could see that.

By a most regrettable accident, one of my swiftest balls struck the good sheep on the nose. And at that the bad sheep laughed – laughed distinctly and undoubtedly, a husky, vulgar laugh; and, while her friend stood glued to the ground, too astonished to move, she changed her note for the first time and bleated:

"Go – o – o – d, ve – e – ry go – o – o – d! Be – e – e – est sho – o – o – ot he – e – e’s ma – a – a – de!"

I would have given half – a – crown if it had been she I had hit instead of the other one. It is ever the good and amiable who suffer in this world.

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