"Work while you're young,
Sam, work while you're young." He regarded his son's bent head with
affectionate approval. "What's the book to-day?"
"Widgery on Nisi prius Evidence," said Sam, without looking up.
"Capital!" said Sir Mallaby. "Highly improving and as interesting as a
novel--some novels. There's a splendid bit on, I think, page two
hundred and fifty-four where the hero finds out all about Copyhold and
Customary Estates. It's a wonderfully powerful situation. It appears--but
I won't spoil it for you. Mind you don't skip to see how it all comes
out in the end!" Sir Mallaby suspended conversation while he addressed an
imaginary ball with the mashie which he had taken out of his golf-bag.
For this was the day when he went down to Walton Heath for his weekly
foursome with three old friends. His tubby form was clad in tweed of a
violent nature, with knickerbockers and stockings. "Sam!"
"Well?"
"Sam, a man at the club showed me a new grip the other day. Instead of
overlapping the little finger of the right hand .
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