"I mean, I don't want to be coddled because I'm a beginner."

"The ball is always teed up for the drive," I assured him.

"Oh, well, if you say so. But it seems to me to take all the element of
sport out of the game. Where do I hit it?"

"Oh, straight ahead."

"But isn't it dangerous? I mean, suppose I smash a window in that house
over there?"

He indicated a charming bijou residence some five hundred yards down
the fairway.

"In that case," I replied, "the owner comes out in his pyjamas and
offers you the choice between some nuts and a cigar."

He seemed reassured, and began to address the ball. Then he paused
again.

"Isn't there something you say before you start?" he asked. "'Five', or
something?"

"You may say 'Fore!' if it makes you feel any easier. But it isn't
necessary."

"If I am going to learn this silly game," said Mortimer, firmly, "I am
going to learn it _right_. Fore!"