Roamin’ in the gloamin’ (1928)

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34 ROAMIN' IN THE GLOAMIN' I learned to hit a golf -ball before I was eight or nine years of age. Little did I then think that in the years to come I would myself play golf all over the world, or that my name would be associated with so many golf stories exemplifying the "nearness" of the Scottish race! Some of the best of these tales I shall tell against myself in their proper place during the course of these reminiscences. I must have a better collection of golf stories than any other golfer in the world — and most of them are true, seeing they are mostly told against myself. Sport played quite a prominent part in my early boyhood days at Musselburgh. My father took a keen interest in footracing. He had been a runner himself, but after marriage he confined his interests to training the runners of the district. Sprints, half-mile, mile, and long-distance races were tremendously popular in the midlands of Scotland about this time. Wee Johnnie Lauder had the reputation of being a peculiarly clever trainer and to get into his "stable" was considered something of an honour. He trained the winners of many races, including one Powderhall Handicap. Up till a few days ago I could not have told you the name of this victor in the historic Scottish race, but — so curiously do events work out — I have before me at this moment a letter written by an old man of seventy-one, now living in Buckie, Banffshire, telling me that he was trained by my father when he won a big Edinburgh Handicap in 1877. He signs the letter "William Young" and in it he says he has just noticed in the papers my return from America and took the notion to write me after all these years. I need quote only one sentence from Mr. Young's letter, a sentence that made a lump rise in my throat as I remembered the father whom I only knew as a little boy. "Johnnie Lauder was a straight, honest man and a thorough sportsman — what a pity he didn't live to see your success, Sir Harry !" And so my boyhood's years slip awa' ! I am not twelve