All his life, a most proper and dignified English Barrister widower, with a considerable income, had dreamed of playing Sandringham (one of Great Britain's truly exclusive golf courses). One day he made up his mind to chance it while he was traveling in the area.
Although he was aware that the club was very exclusive, he decided that he would ask the man behind the desk if he might play the famous course.
The club's secretary inquired, "Member ?" "No, sir."
"Guest of a member?" "No, sir."
"Sorry," the secretary said.
As he turned to leave, the lawyer spotted a slightly familiar figure seated in the lounge reading the London Times. It was Lord Willoughby Parham.
The lawyer approached Lord Parham and, bowing low, said, "I beg your pardon, your Lordship, but my name is Higginbotham of the London Solicitor -- Higginbotham and Barclay. I should like to ask your Lordship's indulgence. Might I play this beautiful course as your guest?"
His Lordship gave Higginbotham a long look, put down his paper and his pipe and asked:
"Church?" "Church of England, sir, as was my late wife."
"Education?" the elderly gentleman asked. "Eton, sir, and Oxford with a Blue and Honors.
"Sport?" "Rugby, sir, spot of tennis and number four on the crew that beat Cambridge."
"Service?" "Brigadier, sir, Coldstream Guards, Victoria Cross and Knights of the Garter."
"Campaigns?" "Dunkirk, El Alemain and Normandy, sir."
"Languages?" "Private tutor in French, fluent in German and a bit of Greek."
His Lordship considered briefly, then nodded to the club secretary and said, "Nine Holes."