The first time I played golf was in Flushing Meadows, Queens, when I was about 16 or 17. They had an 18-hole pitch-and-putt. My buddies and I would hop the fence and sneak on and play.
Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.
P. G. Wodehouse