She had no wish to incur again the tightly drawn scowl of Wilbur.

The venom of that had made her uncomfortable.
"See now how you hit 'em out when you do what I tell you!" said the instructor at last, when Merle had a dozen clean drives to his credit.
But the sun had fallen low and the lesson must end.
"Awfully obliged, old chap--thanks a heap!" said Merle, recovering slightly from his abjectness.

"I dare say I shall be able to smack the little pill after this." The old chap hurled a last grenade.
"You won't if you keep thinking about form," he warned.

"Best way to forget that--quit talking so much about it.

After you make a shot, keep still, or talk to yourself." "Awfully good of you," Merle responded, graciously, for he was no longer swinging at a ball, but merely walking back to the clubhouse, where one man was as good as another.