A GOLF-COURSE “ORIGINAL.”

Hokitika Guardian, 6 November 1923, Page 4

A GOLF-COURSE “ORIGINAL.”

i (By W . Blackwood in Daily .Mail). j He Inis a nickname among the oilier caddies who haunt the railed-in j ’ j enclosure to (he west , f the Royal and ■ j Ancient club-house, hut as 1 am not sure Hint he likes it 1 shall merely re- , for to him as Aadra. Tic Is one of j the few ■•originals" left at St. An-1 drew-, and mv annual vi-it to the) j classic links would not he complete j j without having hint "carry” for me. | [ His quaint outlook on life 'and this j- j 1 no hank-handed reference to the fact j j that lie ha- only one eye', hi- amazing j j cheerfulness, his native drollery and wit. combine to make him as much a tonic as a caddy. During my first i round on the old course on this vi-ir j 1 ha ! a very "cuppy” lie going to the third hole, i wanted to take an iron, j "No, nil, sir." sail! Andra, "the hres-| sic ’ll jixt get ye there’-’—and the I brassie it had to be j

I ! Of course I duffed the shot and duly rated Andra for not letting me have ! flio club I walde.l. “Wool, sir.” he re])lied. “J thocht ye could pick the bn’ ' up—just like a' the rest o' the guid players!” (Mv handicap is M. and well does the old rascal know that it is not a stroke too many) Many stories they tell about Andra. On a very stormy morning he had been caddying for an exceedingly stout lady whose opponent was a countess of slender build. After battling with the gale for ,-ix hob’s and losing them till to her opponent. the stout lady tinned to Anclra and said, “I’m playing dreadful stuff to-day. caddie. I'm awfully sorry !” Audra's reply was doubtless meant to be consoling “Never mind. mum. but yer sail- handicapped, for ye're kcepin’ ..catching) far mail- o’ the wind than Iter wee ledd.vship!” Perhaps the very host tale associated with Andra relates to the left-handed man who look II to the first hole. 11 to the second, and then misssed the hall twice on the third tee, ‘AYhat the dickens is wrong with my golf, caddief’ lie asked in despair. “Week sir,” said Andra, “I'll tell ye rb hi alf—ye’re stannin’ at the wrung