Miniature Golf, inexplicably referred to as "putt-putt" by southerners, is a summer evening's ecstasy. Unlike regular fairway golf, which Mark Twain called "a long walk spoiled," miniature golf is a short stroll enhanced. The most enhancing stroll enhanced. The most enhancing spot around for this activity lies on Route 9 in Natick, the west-of-Boston's answer to Route 1, which is the local habitual of a strange breed of the populace known as the Highway People. The Highway People never leave the freeway: they live in trailer parks, and move on when the spirit moves them (or when the notoriously prison-like mortgages and other traps of these mobile home oases allow it); they take nourishment at roadside snack bars; they recreate at rest stops, zonk in at the drive-in. Route 9 is smaller time--it carves through heavy suburbs, and at the Village Green Miniature Golf mecca "the 19th hole," a wired blare-music pinball palace, the lights are blazing and it seems like the kids are worshipping all night. The other 18 holes are flawless carpets. No off-balance tilts here--your ball goes where it is intended to. Furthermore, the mini-civilization which this 18-hole wonder slithers through is detailed and vast, set--appropriately in this Bicentennial year--in the colonial style of our forefathers. The Liberty Bell, Paul Revere's Ride, a Puritan Village--all these chapters of our history are arranged perfectly in order that we may knock golf balls through them. The price is steep--$2.50--but a miniature golf course this made-to-order is worth much more.