BOWLING.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 22 January 1927, Page 12

BOWLING.

A HORRIBLE TALE! ("Jay,” Christchurch Sun.) It happened in the days when I was very new to Christchurch, and I was looking for the house of a friend in Worcester Street. I wandered down the street, and went into a gate. “You lie! ’ ’ I jumped a little skittishly. It wasn’t very good form to hail a gentle stranger like that. My friends didn’t have that awkward habit, so I must have dropped into the wrong place. However, I wasn’t to he treated like that by any man, and I strode past the hedge, prepared for the worst. ‘‘Put Kitty in the ditch!” By Jove, I must be in a rough house! Those were coarse words. I was ready now' for fight in earnest, and loosened \my sleeve-links. This thing must be ■ seen through. Then I neared the gate, and the worst words of all smote my ears. “You’re shot!” I had heard no shot, but murder surely wasn’t past this gang. Anyhow, the age of silence in guns had arrived, and so murder was fairly easy. I sprinted for the gate, and opening it, dashed into a crowd of earnest old gentlemen • —playing bowls. It was the Christchurch Bowling Club.