Lord Froghorn and his servants were out on the golf course one fine sunny day in a little village outside of Northampton for a round of golf. After he approached the first tee in front of a large oak tree, he wound up and smacked the ball right at the tree.
It bounced high in the air and landed in a rather large eagle’s beak. He then proceeded to carry it over to Mrs. Murphy’s cottage where it fell upon the roof, then bounced high up into the bed of Mr. Shnickle’s truck. Then he hit a bump and it flew into the air just when a gust of wind came by and carried it up into the sky.
Then it dropped down and landed on Farmer Johnson’s barn. Then it bounced up and another bird gathered it up into his beak, carried it over to the green where he was aiming at and proceeded to drop it one inch away from the pin. “Jolly good shot, oh chap. Almost a hole in one,” said his servants.
As they all approached the green, Lord Froghorn was disappointed that he didn’t get his hole in one, so he told everyone to look at the rather strange bird that was perched on the elm tree. As they all looked up, he proceeded to kick the ball into the hole.
When they looked down and couldn’t find it, he then looked into the cup and pulled it out to their amazement. “How did it get in the hole?” They asked. He answered, “It must have rolled in on its own. A little golfing magic, you know, heh– heh.” “Good shot, ole Chap, a hole in one. What a fine golfer you are,” said they. “Yes you could say that I am, alright,” he replied.
From that day on, Lord Froghorn went down in history as one of Daventry’s finest golfers.