On the second hole it is necessary to carry the old graveyard. A topped
ball or even a low one is likely to strike one of the blackened slate
slabs. The grass is so thick and rank that it is almost impossible to
find a ball driven into this last resting place of my ancestors.

It makes an ideal hazard.

The second time I ever played this hole I lined out a low ball which
struck the tombstone of Deacon Lemuel Smith. It bounded back at least
seventy-five yards, but I had a good lie and my second shot was a
screaming brassie. It carried the graveyard and landed on the edge of
the green.

[Illustration: "It makes an ideal hazard"]

After carefully studying my putt I holed out from twenty yards, making
the hole in three after practically throwing my first shot away.

This ability to recover from an indifferent or unfortunate shot is one
of the strong points of my game.

The third hole requires a hundred-and-thirty-yard drive over the brook
where I used to fish when a boy, and on the fourth hole you must carry
the pond. I came very near being drowned in that pond when a youngster,
and I firmly believe that this is the reason I so often flub my drive on
this hole.

But it is unnecessary to describe all of the eighteen holes. The links
are 3,327 yards out and 3,002 yards in, a long and sporty course, the
delight of the true golfer and the terror of the duffer.