New-York tribune., 1922-08-10

the splendid baldric, from which was
suspended gigantic rapier."
Ph9bus Apollo! What a crescendo,
First cerulean blue, then gold, shining
like water ripples in the sun, and final
ly a great sheet Of crimson! And,
reader, was Porthos 8 nystagcgue Of
the dandiacal body or was he a mighty
man of his hands? at Is permitted to
mankind, under certain restrictions, to
wear white waistcoats." White waist
coats, forsooth! One can as soon imagine
Porthos contenting himself with that
tepid indulgence as one can imagine
him tossing off a beaker of-sarsapa.
rilla. He was a mans man. he had
the courage of his convictions. He
wore what he liked. wise and en-
dearing Porthos!
If there is any place that cries alaud
for revival Of his manly tradition it
is the golf course, where grass, trees
and sky provide a background spacious
enough to keep any color, no matter
how plangent, we'll in the picture, and
where there is q strong tendency 20
regard any old rags as providing an
| adequate makeup for the game. There
are numerous golfers. it is true, who
have a decent sense Of the fitness OF
things. Latterly they have been
adopting the English practice Of playing
in jackets. But everybody knows the
type of golfer who is no more than
Carlyle's "omnivorous Biped that wears
Breeches," and they are very moioy
| breeches at that He heaves into view
disheveled and deplorable. That be Is
amenable to reason, especially reason
of an artistic nature, gravely doubt"
| On the other hand, it is not unoeiiev-
able that the revolution may sooner
or later be wrought. In the first place
the sweaters are available. The max
ers make them, and obviously the!
would not do so if they had no marke''
Here and there adventurous spiri1s
arise willing, like Porthos, to put theif
conviction to the test. the conviction
that to "add another hue unto tns
rainbow" is not, in very truth, waste
full and ridiculous excess" but, on sn'
contrary, one way of washing the eyes
clear of ugliness and dullness'
have observed one great soiiei
whom I would not hesitate to reckon
of the tribe of Porthos. The only fims
I every saw Bobby Jones on the ms
he wore a glowing red beret. nv
played, of course, like consaHilns''
! artist. But he stays in my menfo's
chiefly as a magnificent young poflehs
an apocalyptic cherub, whose '0p
knot set a livelier mark upon the nol''
zon than was ever placed there by 'a'
white plume of Navarro. 40 ~.
know his taste in sweaters. But i'As
to cherish the idea that it is tihs.e
with the aesthetic fervor ! divineo =
his cap. Is it objected that enete :
nothing masculine. nothing hafas'
nothing sportsmanlike in this ma'ss.
Of color? In the bull ring, wners sls
most perilous Of all sports is pi's
ticed, the colors of the players are ~
splendent. Years ago saw the gisss
est matador n Spain, Espartero, Sn'ss
in TIE ring at Madrid. He wens
his death caparisoned as though sof :
fancy ball. The golfer, rambling ai0As
in his pastoral security. may see =
reason in this for emulating the as'1s
dolphin,
Whom each pang imbues
with new color as It gasps a"as'
Tho last still ioveiiest.
But at least he may reasonably =,
something to lift himself above nv
present drab level and shake on AA
kinship with the chimney sweep.