Judge — June 1938 — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

NOTHER crop of letters, and an- other batch of shiny new golf balls to the writers: POLO GOLF Bob Curry’s drive of the seventh was just a little too much to the left and lit on a tuft of grass near the top of a high bank. It would have been a set-up for a left-hander, but a right-hander could. n't reach it from the bottom of the bank. Curry is an ingenious lad. His eye caught a horseman passing on a nearby bridle trail. He borrowed the horse, pulled him up under the bank, and neatly dropped his ball on the green from horseback. He took the hole with a birdie three. Roger M. Sleight, Cleveland, Ohio. CAROM GOLF Alan Wilson drove a bad slice on the sixteenth of the Tamarack course at Port Chester. Definitely headed out of bounds, the ball struck a tree and bounced into a trap, where it hit a rock. The second bounce of about fifty feet landed it on the edge of the green, within inches of another trap. But some- one had scuffed a small stone out of the CRAZY GOLF By Alec Duncan trap onto the green, which came in handy for Mr. Wilson. His ball landed neatly on the stone and rolled in a wide arc into the cup, proving that billiards and golf have something more in com. mon than the shape of the ball. William L. O'Brion, New York City. Every month Alec Duncan will award « dozen Tommy Armour Championship golf balls each to the writers whose descriptions of crazy golf shots appear on this page. OF course, all letters become the property of THE JUDGE. At the end of the year they will all be considered; the best ono will get a set of handsome matched woods. Letters should contain full name of player and of at least one witness; also the date and the name and location of the course. TO THE UNKNOWN—THANKS In a mighty tight place, my partner hit a beautiful roundhouse slice on the fourteenth tee at the Altadena Country Club, Pasadena. The ball disappeared over the trees, hit something unknown, bounced back and wrapped itself in the folds of the flag. It slowly—or it seemed slowly—unwrapped itself and fell into the cup for a. hole-in-one. Warren Beebe, San Marino, Cal. ASSIST PLAY I hit a long low ball straight down the middle, toward an elderly gentleman I thought was beyond my reach. I called “fore” when I saw my ball was longer than usual, but he didn’t hear me. He decided on a practice swing before tak- ing another shot at his ball. As his club head came down, my ball settled on the exact blade of grass on which he had his eye. He holed the ball out for me. The last we saw of him he was playing eight on his own ball. J. T. Northcutt, Kansas City. FISH STORY A member of a foursome of which I was one dropped his drive about a foot short of a lake on the fairway of the ninth hole of the Ottawa (Kansas) Country Club. He topped a niblick shot, sending the ball at terrific speed a few inches above the water, just as a four- pound bass rose for a flying insect and got the ball on the side of the head. A caddie brought the bass ashore and we ate it at the club that night. Jerry Penney, Lawrence, Kansas. “Go AHEAD, LADY; YOU'RE NOT BEHIND A TRUCK—THAT'S YOUR GARAGE Door!” June, 19358 comicbooks.com