Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1905-02-07


ly, but because the lad had sense. His
instincts point to the paths OF nigh
finance and you'll find him there some
day"
Thomas H. Smith, general manager
of the T. H. e. S. railroad, was the hero
of the tale. Neither his name, the name
of his road nor the name of the victim
is real. He was self-made man, and
had little use for those artificialities
that are to human society what veneer
is to furniture-a mask for scars and
coarse grain. Percival H. Livingston
was his antithesis. He was a director
of the big system that looked on Presi-
dent Smith with awe. Also he was
from New YOrk-he called it Moo Yawk
and represented a banking firm that
swayed the street.
This fellow makes me tired" said
Smith, combatively, one day as he sat
on the clubhouse veranda. We've got
to take him down. I'm gettin' sick OF
hearing of Moo Yawk' and how crude
and half-baked Chicago u.s. 1 only wish
there was some one here that could
beat him at golf, but he's one too many
for us!''
Now President Smiths game at golf
was an unknown quantity. His girth
was ample, and he never was known
to toll in the sun behind a bounding
ball. Rather he caused a drought in
the stewards pantry, and when he left
after his occasional visits he left be-
hind many weary waiter worn out in
answering his call for Scotch, with
some ice and a triie of lemon in it,"
And he considered he had done his duty
by the noble and ancient game
So OntwentSia was surprised to hear
him in heated argument with Living
ston one afternoon, when even the
hardened players had surrendered to
the midsummer sun.
Maybe you think l can't play!" said
President Smith. 'Why-why, if l
couldn't beat the life out of any diet
tante player from the effete east I'd
eat my shirt"
He was apoplectic.
We'll. really l cawn't understand
how you keep in form" drawled Liv-
ingston. Il wouldn't have you devour
your shirt, my dear sir, but I'll wager
the best dinner we can get in Chicago
if there are good dinners to be had
here-that l can defeat you in 18 holes,
and I'll give you a handicap at that.
don't you know"
"Handicap!" snorted Smith, angrily
Handicap! You make me laugh. Twas
going to offer to discount you, but we'll
play even. And right here let me tell
you that you can get dinner right in
little old Chicago that will make Del
monico look like the genius in charge
of a cowboys chuck wagon"
And thus the game was arranged.
Smith spent some time with his cad
die on the first green, engaged in earnest
converse Livingston was changing his
clothes in the clubhouse. When the
New Yorker appeared he smiled super
ciliously on Smith.
Better get into your golf clothes, old
man." he said, patronizingly. Smith
eyed him.
These fannels are all right" he said,
pleasantly. Will Ou QIINe.
Livingston drove. With a perfect
follow through he sent the ball a
good IT'S yards. The little crowd that
stood around the tee murmured its ad-
| miration of his style. When he had
marked down" his ball he stepped
aside. Smiths caddie ''teeded" the ball
| and Smith seized his driver awkward
| ly in his big hands. He swung once or
| twice as though for practice and then
quickly brought his club down. For a
full 40 seconds he and his caddie stood
their eyes shaded from the sun, watch
| ing the phenomenal flight.
Not as good as it might be- said
Smith. in a disappointed tone, handing
his driver to the caddie. Little ofl
| form to-day"
| Then the rivals started down the
links. When Livingston found his ball
he stopped.
Don't believe you drove this far, old
man." he said, patronizingly. Think
| you must be out too far"
Not at ALL" answered Smith, cor
| daily. His former heat seemed to have
disappeared, leaving him kindly and