Uncle Josh Plays Golf

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Title:     Uncle Josh Plays Golf
Author: Cal Stewart [More Titles by Stewart]

WALL, about two weeks ago the boys sed to me, Uncle we'd like to hav you cum out and play a game of golf. Wall, they took me out behind the woodshed whar mother couldn't see us and them durned boys dressed your uncle up in the dogondest suit of clothes I ever had on in my life. I had on a pair of socks that had more different colors in 'em than in Joseph's coat. I looked like a cross atween a monkey and a cirkus rider, and a-goin' across the medder our turkey gobbler took after me and I had an awful time with that fool bird. I calculate as how I'll git even with him 'bout Thanksgiving time.

Wall, the boys took me into the paster, and they had it all dug up into what they called a "T," and they had a wheelbarrer full of little Injun war clubs. They called one a nibbler, and another a brassie, and a lot of other fool names I never heerd afore, and can't remember now. Then they brought out a little wooden ball 'bout as big as a hen's egg, and they stuck it up on a little hunk of mud. Then they told me to take one of them thar war clubs and stand alongside of the ball and hit it. Wall, I jist peeled off my coat and got a good holt on that war club and I jist whaled away at that durned little ball, and by gum I missed it, and the boys all commenced to holler "foozle."

Wall, I got a little bit riled and I whaled away at it again, and I hit it right whar I missed it the fust time, and I whirled round and sot down so durned hard I sot four back teeth to akin, and I pawed round in the air and knocked a lot of it out of place. I hit myself on the shin and on the pet corn at the same time, and them durned boys wuz jist a-rollin' round on the ground and a-hollerin' like Injuns. Wall, I begun to git madder 'n a wet hen, and I 'lowed I'd knock that durned little ball way over into the next county. So I rolled up my sleeves and spit on my hands and got a good holt on that war club and I whaled away at that little ball agin, and by chowder I hit it. I knocked it clar over into Deacon Witherspoon's paster, and hit his old muley cow, and she got skeered and run away, jumped the fence and went down the road, and the durned fool never stopped a-runnin' 'til she went slap dab into Ezra Hoskins' grocery store, upsot four gallons of apple butter into a keg of soft soap, and sot one foot into a tub of mackral, and t'other foot into a box of winder glass, and knocked over Jim Lawson who wuz sottin' on a cracker barrel, and broke his durned old wooden leg, and then she went right out through the winder and skeered Si Pettingill's hosses that wuz a standin' thar, and they run away and smashed his wagon into kindlin' wood' and Silas has sued me fer damages, and mother won't speak to me, and Jim he wants me to buy him a new wooden leg, and the neighbors all say as how I ought to be put away some place fer safe keepin', and Aunt Nancy Smith got so excited she lost her glass eye and didn't find it for three or four days, and when she did git it the boys wuz a-playin' marbles with it and it wuz all full of gaps, and Jim Lawson he trimmed it up on the grindstane and it don't fit Nancy any more, and she has to sort of put it in with cotton round it to bold it, and the cotton works out at the corners and skeers the children and every time I see Nancy that durned eye seems to look at me sort of reproachful like, and all I know about playin' golf is, the feller what knocks the ball so durned far you can't find it or whar it does the most damage, wins the game.

[The end]
Cal Stewart's short story: Uncle Josh Plays Golf

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