I am told golfing is a sort of madness; but the lunatics never get dangerous although the disease seems incurable

Kimberley Club,

Kimberley.

April 3rd 1899

My dear Joe
I received two batches of letters from you and Raymond by last mail. Two of them were the previous mail's letters. You evidently posted them late.

I haven't them by me, so as you chaps grandly write, I "cannot comment upon them" I hope you are studying hard and doing all you can to qualify for what you have to work at in after life.
A golf tournament is going on in Kimberley and there are players from every part here — from Cape Town, Grahamstown, King Williams town and Johannesberg. You never heard such a lot of noisy fellows — they talk golf from morning till night. They quarrel about it too, and storm & shout and look as if they were going to eat each other — but it means nothing — it is only a little way golfers have. I am told golfing is a sort of madness; but the lunatics never get dangerous although the disease seems incurable. Some day perhaps I shall catch the infection and become as mad as the maddest of them.

In the match between XI of South Africa .v. Lord Hawkes XI the Englishmen made only 92. The South African made 126 for 8 wickets and there the game stands. This is the last match of the tour. Powell and Shalders did not do so well as in former matchs. Sinclair a Transvaal mand bowled splendidly.

God bless you my dear boy
Your loving father
Frank Mandy