The eminent English Statesman Arbuthnot-Joyce plays golf so badly that he prefers a solitary round with only the caddy present. He had a new boy one day recently, and played as wretchedly as usual.
"I fancy I play the worst game in the world," he confessed to the caddy.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sir," was the consoling response. "From what the boys were saying about another gentleman who plays here, he must be worse even than you are."
"What's his name?" asked the statesman hopefully.
And the caddy replied:
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