Dr. Webb's Narrow Escape.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIV, Issue 26, 29 June 1910, Page 11

Dr. Webb's Narrow Escape.

The Rev. Aquilla Webb, pastor ot Wai ren Memoiial Church, who is one of the faithful at the Louisville golf links, UJS.A., toils the following, wmeh will be of interest to golfers and others as well: — ‘ Saturday morning I gave Judge John Baskin a dozen golf balls that I had repainted. Yesterday morning I missed him from his accustomed place in the church. Where was Judge Baskin? As 1 thought over his absence it suddenly occurred to me that he was trying those new balls. “After dinner 1 decided I would go out to the club and see if he was there. Ship enough, there was the genial and smiling Judge with the implements of war ami subjugation. “‘Now', Judge! You are not going to play golf on Sunday?’ I said. “ ‘Sure, Doctor! Come and join me. What is the use of preaching against Sunday golf until you have tried it for yourself. You should be able to speak from experience on Sunday amusements, and not always be theorising. There are about a dozen good fellows on the course. Come along.’ “ The Judge is such a splendid fellow, the course in su: h good condition, and the love of the game so strong that L finally yielded, though 1 refused to put on the glad rags with which golfers usually bedeck themselves. “I must say 1 felt a little peculiai ns we went to the first tee. 1 teed up my ball and made the stroke. The ball sailed away like a bi nJ. and landed on the putting green not. three feet from the hole. The fever was on and I began to feel more natural. The putt was true; and I had a two with bogey scared. “As vve played oh, hole after hole, discussing the ethics-of Sunday games, 1 was only concerned that my parishioners should- not see me in the act. It would be much easier to explain my motive afterward. “As fate would have it, we met several of my members as we came down from the tenth driving tee. But they had seen me drive into the punch bowl and hole.out in three, and I saw they were greatly pleased with my skill. “Occasionally a-s we plodded on I would have a sickening feeling, somewhat after the manner of a boy.’smoking his first cigar. .But a long drive, a good putt, or lofting well out of a bunker helped my conscience when I was wavering and on the point of giving up. a The Judge was the picture of satisfaction, and seemed to enjoy the fact that I was beating him nearly every hole. My ambition has been to make the course in less than ninety, and here I was coming to the eighteenth hole with eighty-four. “Just as I had placed my ball ready to drive the last hole, I heard a familiar voice yell ‘Fore!’ Before I had a chance to move, a hard driven ball hit me on my right elbow and my arm feJJ helpless to my side. It all came oyer me like a. flash: ‘Sunday golf! What I de serve!’ “Daniel O’Sullivan had driven one of his long low shots of over 200 yards on the seventh hole, ami I was Hie victim. Mr O’Sullivan, genial and lovable gentleman that he is, came hurrying forward with such a sorrowful look and suck tender words that 1 regretted the accident more on his account than on my own. » “Poor .Fudge Baskin was the picture, of despair. We all knew that I could not preach -at night, and then the people would.be saying: ‘Serves him right for playing golf on Sunday. Wonder what his church will say about it?’ “No one can imagine my feelings. The nain in my arm was growing almost unbearable and my conscience was crying out like the clangnor of a great, high bell. “Just at the most critical moment, when I felt that 1 could not bear the pain and disgrace, I heard my little daughter say: ‘Father! Father! What is the matter?’ The dream was over. I opened my eyes and smiled. Then smiled again. My arm was a little numb, but I was able to preach at night.”