{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_42348/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_42348","id":"gutenberg_42348","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42348","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Sports/Hobbies","Golf -- Anecdotes"],"text":"THE SPIRIT OF THE LINKS\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n  SPIRIT OF THE LINKS\n\n  BY\n  HENRY LEACH\n\n\n    GREAT GOLF, WHAT POWERFUL CHARM IS IN THY NAME!\n    WHAT CUNNING WITCHCRAFT IS THY FASCINATING GAME!\n                         _Blackheath Golfing Lays_, 1867\n\n\n  METHUEN & CO.\n  36 ESSEX STREET W.C.\n  LONDON\n\n\n\n\n  _First Published in 1907_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                        PAGE\n  SPRING                                                   1\n\n  MEN AND THINGS                                          37\n\n  THE QUEER SIDE                                          75\n\n  THE WANDERING PLAYER                                   118\n\n  THE SUNNY SEASON                                       163\n\n  THE PROFESSOR ON THE LINKS                             194\n\n  THE FABRIC OF THE GAME                                 219\n\n  WINTER                                                 251\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPIRIT OF THE LINKS\n\n\n\n\nSPRING\n\n\nI\n\nTo discover the secret of its wonderful charm is not the least of the\nproblems of golf. It is a game that encourages the reflective and\nphilosophical mind to close investigation, and so it is not enough for\nthe worthy player that he should take the things that he sees and feels\nfor granted, with no questions concerning the mystic influences that\nseem constantly to brood over the links, and the people who are of them.\nEach day as we go forward to the game, and in particular if it marks the\nbeginning of a special period of play, we feel these influences strong,\nand it may happen that for a moment we wonder again as to their cause\nand their origin.\n\nMany minds have made great efforts towards the discovery of this secret,\nbut the fruits thereof have not been satisfying. Golf is not like other\ngames which stir up great enthusiasms in their players. Long spells of\nfailure or of ambition thwarted often kill the passion that has fed the\nenergy of the players of these games; but that is not the case with\ngolf, and golf almost alone. Nor does a surfeit of play lessen the\ndesire for it as it does in the case of other field sports, which need\nclose seasons for their healthiness. When one day\u2019s golf is over, the\nthought is of the next that will succeed it, and the hope already goes\nforward to anticipation of the superior delights that may be in store.\nAnd it makes the same appeal to all persons of all classes who once\nattach themselves to it, and it has been found that the golf impulses\nare as strong in the men of other races and of other colours as they are\nin the British who have cultivated the game. This universality, the\nconstant enthusiasm, the unweariedness of the golfer, and the intense\nardour that distinguishes him from the players of other games, suggest\nto us that some strong emotion of the human mind is touched by golf in\nsome peculiar way, that its principles and the conditions of its play\nmake a special appeal to some elementary feature of simple human nature;\nfor it is the appeal to these primitive instincts that is always the\nstrongest, the most overpowering.\n\nUpon this line of investigation we come upon a clue that leads us to a\nmore satisfactory idea as to the secret than any other which has been\nsuggested. The strongly humanising tendencies of the game are evident to\nall, and admitted. No cloak of convention can be worn over the manners\nand thoughts of the player; he is the simple man. And what are the\nsubtle features of the primitive instincts that are awakened in him so\nconstantly, at almost every stroke, in every round, and on every day? It\nis sometimes difficult to seize upon them, floating in a vagueness as\nthey do, but it does seem that all the strong emotions of the golfer\ncombining to make up his grand devotion to the game, are clustered round\nthe simple human instinct, most human and most potent of all, the\ninstinct of Hope. It is this hope that leads the golfer on through all\nhis troubles and disappointments, and it still urges him forward when he\nhas already ascended to a great delight. It is a hope that will never\npermit complete satisfaction. This simple formula that the mystic charm\nof golf is hope, will explain all the emotions that rise up in the\ngolfer in the course of a year of play. Take him from the first tee to\nthe end of his game. It is the fresh morning, and the ardour of the\ngolfer is warm within him, and he has a yearning and a high hope for a\ngreat day\u2019s sport. Here, on the teeing ground, he is animated by a great\ndesire to play the first hole as well as ever before, and to drive a\nclean far ball that shall speak well of his skill and make good augury\nfor the strokes that are to come. If he succeeds his hope but increases.\nDoes he play the tee shot badly, and his hopes go forward to a great\nrecovery with the second shot of the game. If that should fail,\nvexatiously, there may still be the chance of a wonderful approach, and\nthough the approach be not so wonderful, is there not the possibility\nthat the gods may be so kind as to steer a very long putt into the hole?\nThese are exactly the alternating sentiments; and if the fulfilment of\nthe hope be denied to the last putt, and the hole be lost, at the second\ntee there is hope again that the indifferent start will be succeeded by\na flash of brilliance as shall restore the position and the complete\nequanimity of the player.\n\nAnd so it is from shot to shot and from hole to hole all the way round\nthe course, and \u201c_Spero meliora_\u201d is the eternal motto, even though the\npresent state be happy. If the whole round be weak and the result of it\nadverse, there is the hope of the afternoon; and at the end of the day\nthe unfortunate golfer, moved almost to despair by his failures, soon\nrecovers again that optimism which is his constant succour, and then his\nhopes are of the morrow. Does he not know now what it was that he was\n\u201cdoing wrong,\u201d the golfing sin that he committed all the day? To-morrow\nthe fault shall be corrected, and the swings that are made in\nafter-hours now give fair promise of a great change. A well-prepared\nheart has the golfer, the like of which, as Horace says, hopes in the\nworst fortune, and in prosperity fears a change in the chances. Give it\nthat the man has golfed above his true ability, and how he does fear\nthat the next game may put him back again; but here again there is\nbuoyant hope in evidence, and when the evening is filled with the\nexaltation of it, how sweet it is to wander a little over the resting,\ndeserted links and mark the places where balls were pitched, and the\nlines along which fine putts were made, and the points to which play\nshall be directed when the next round is in the making, perhaps the best\nof all.\n\nSo it is hope and hope all the way through the golfer\u2019s life, and it is\nthe most joyous, the most uplifting of all the instincts, and the most\nintensely human, and that which is given to man alone. It is because\ngolf strikes always this chord in his nature that it makes the strong\nappeal to him. There is no other game or sport that permits him to hope\nthrough failure in the same way, that leads him on, coaxes him, cajoles\nhim, even fools him. And this drama of the emotions of the individual is\nplayed always in the most perfect setting for such a simple human\nplay--the sea and green fields and plain earth, and the simplest tools\nto move a little white ball, not along marked lines or within narrow\nlimits or in protected arenas, but anywhere along that green grass, over\nthe hills and through the valleys and across the streams and rushing\nrivers, while the wind blows now this way and then that, and the rain\npours. All the time the golfer pursues the little ball, alone with plain\nnature and his human adversary. Here he is released from all the\nconventionalities of mind that hold him in his other doings in this\ncomplicated civilisation. The primitive instincts are in command; they\nhave the fields and the sea for harmony in the scene, and the golfer is\naway from all the intricacies of the twentieth century, and is the\nsimple man and the hopeful man.\n\nThat is a fair creed concerning the command of golf, and we may reject\nthe theory that indomitable, persevering mankind finds the fascination\nof the game merely in the failures and irritations that it brings and in\nthe desire to overcome them. The activity of that instinct of hope is\nthe mystic charm, and surely it is to the credit of a game that it\nshould teach the man to look forward with courage and cheerfulness, and\nto be always something of an optimist, and the more of it the better for\nhis game. These things lead to the making of a good man as well as a\ngood golfer.\n\n\nII\n\nMen of other races, whose skins are not white, are afoot with this game.\nBlack men are playing; yellow men are becoming expert; red men have\nachieved great skill. A few years since a golfer traveller found his way\nto the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana, and he saw the wild Red Indian\nat golf, and thought that it suited him better than his old game of\nlacrosse. Spotted Horse drove off along the prairie--a plain prairie\nwith only a few shrubs about--and he followed and played the ball for a\ncouple of miles to the turn, and then played it back. There were no\nholes; the game was to play the course in the fewest strokes. Here,\nindeed, is the primitive golf. Some of the Indians are said to have made\nfine drives--as good as the best that white men do--and this was all the\nmore remarkable inasmuch as it is the Red Indians\u2019 pretty custom to yell\nand howl in a frightful chorus while one of their number is addressing\nthe ball preparatory to making his stroke. So it does not seem easy to\nput the red men off.\n\nGolf, indeed, is the one world game; it is in essence that very simple\nsport which so easily and certainly spreads over the planet. Everywhere\nthe British are pioneers, and they are by far the more numerous players;\nbut native proselytes are coming in fast in almost every quarter of the\nglobe, so now it may fairly be said that no other game is being played\neverywhere by so many different sorts of people as this game of ours.\nSit on a magic carpet and be transported to any place, and there,\nsomewhere about you, will be a golf course.\n\nI have lately had some talk with men from the East, who tell of the good\ngame that half-naked tribesmen, standing and walking in bare feet, have\nlearned to play; and, moreover, of the beautiful clubs, most exquisitely\nfinished and sometimes inlaid with ivory and fancy woods, that they have\nmade. I am assured that the \u201cprofessional champion of Ceylon\u201d is a\nCingalese caddie who holds the record for the Ridgeway course, made when\nhe was playing against a British golfer of thoroughly good class. The\nJapanese are beginning to play, and good judges have been led to express\nfears that their qualities and temperaments will bring them to a higher\nstate of perfection in the short game than has ever been attained\nbefore, and which will surely threaten the supremacy of the white man.\nGolfing at Kobe is a peculiar experience. The course is at Rokkosan, on\nthe top of a high mountain, and you must therefore climb the mountain\nbefore you can golf on the course. You go by rickshaw to the foot of the\nCascade Valley, and are then carried up the mountain slope by coolies\nfor an hour and a half, when the tees and the bunkers come into view.\nThose who play there hold that the view from this course is the finest\nfrom any, though it can hardly be better than that from the course on\nthe top of Senchal Hill at Darjeeling, for from here there is\nKingenjunga, 28,000 feet high, to be seen, and from the summit of Tiger\nHill, overlooking the course, there is Mount Everest itself in view.\n\nAnd there is golf in China too, six clubs for it. We had no sooner come\nto the conclusion and officially announced some years ago that\nWei-hai-wei was a very desirable resort, than the golf club was duly\nestablished there. In these days the building prospector first settles\nupon his golf course, and advertises it, and then he builds his houses\nround about; and in the same way it is realised that it is the proper\nthing when seeking to make a new centre of Europeans abroad to start\nwith a golf course. I have been with men on shipboard who, having golfed\non the queer course of Tangier, have then speculated unceasingly in the\nsmoke-room as we sailed along the smooth waters of the West African\ncoast about the kind of golf that would be vouchsafed to them on\nreaching the Canary Islands. Some time since I had a letter from a\nhighly-placed British official at Chinkiang on the Yangtse River, and he\ntold me how they had just begun to play the game out there on a new\ncourse which was covered with crater-like excrescences. These are\nChinese graves, and they are said to make most excellent hazards. There\nare pig-tailed fellows for caddies, and it was carefully ascertained\nthat no Chinese sentiment is injured in the matter.\n\nThere are golf clubs in all the States of Europe. There are very many in\nFrance, and there are more each year, and it is remarkable that the\nFrenchman is now establishing them for his exclusive use. At Boulogne\nthe Englishman and his friends of France golf together on a course where\nsome of the hazards were the earthworks of Napoleon\u2019s camp--the camp\nthat held the Grand Army that lay in readiness for the invasion of\nBritain. What irony is here--that the British golfer should play over\nthe Emperor\u2019s camp! The Master-General must himself have walked many\ntimes over the lines of our tee shots, and the shadow of the monument\nthat he built to commemorate his invasion of Albion, almost lies across\nthe course from which Albion herself, uninvaded, may be seen. And the\nMayor of Boulogne gives prizes to the British golfers who make the best\ngolf on Napoleon\u2019s camp. I come to realise the depth of the meaning of\nthe lines cut into a marble tablet that I saw on the side of a staircase\nin the Museum at Boulogne one day--\u201cFrance and England have more good\nsense than all the world,\u201d and those lines were put on the stone more\nthan sixty years ago.\n\nFrance is fair and free, but the game is played in Europe where the\ntimes and conditions are not at all the same. There is golf in Russia,\nand to it there was added a new course but recently. At the first\nthought it seems a little odd that such a peaceful game should be played\nin holy and revolutionary Russia even by Britishers. They have had two\ncourses in Russia for a long time past--one near Moscow and the other at\nMourino, a small village a few versts out from St. Petersburg. The men\nwho play here are of a hardy, determined strain, fine men for pioneers.\nTo get their golf they have to drive thirteen miles out from the capital\nover bad roads; and in order to obtain a fair amount of satisfaction\nfrom their game they have to returf their putting greens almost every\nyear, owing to the extreme sandiness of the soil. The Kaiser is\nencouraging the game in Germany, and has given prizes for it; there are\neight clubs in Italy; and others in Austria, Holland, Belgium, and all\nthe rest. The game has flourished for twelve years past in the dominions\nof the Sultan of Turkey, that is to say at Bagdad, and the golfers\nthere are pleased to tell you that their course is no miniature affair\nas are so many at the outposts of the empire of St. Andrews, but that it\nconsists of full eighteen holes, and that, in the desert, they are very\nsporting indeed.\n\nIt goes without saying that the game flourishes greatly in all the\nColonies. In Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, and the\nothers there are little booms of golf in progress, each of its own kind.\nAt Pretoria and at many places at the Cape the greens consist of\ndiamondiferous gravel, smooth and sparkling, and the first local rule of\nthe Kimberley Club startles the newly-arrived golfer from the homeland,\nfor it tells him that \u201cIt shall be lawful for a player to level the\nground on the putting green in any manner he pleases.\u201d In India there\nare some forty flourishing clubs, and that at Calcutta, with its five\nhundred members and two courses of nine holes each, having been\nestablished for nearly eighty years, takes rank as one of the premier\nclubs of the world. There is the Aden Club in Arabia, the Royal Bangkok\nin Siam, where an old and very imposing Siamese temple does duty for\nclubhouse, and others all over Asia, as one might almost say. There are\nmany golf clubs in the Argentine Republic and the other South American\nStates. The Sandwich Islands are full of the game, for there are five\nclubs there. In the East Indies there are three, and in the West Indies\nthere are eight. Wherever the Britisher goes he leaves his trail of golf\nbehind him. There is a story of Captain Adair holding a golf competition\nin his camp when pitched on one of the passes leading into Thibet, at a\nheight of sixteen thousand feet above the sea-level. I have no\ninformation about the game having been played in the North Polar\nregions; but I am told that when the recent British Antarctic Expedition\nwas made in the _Discovery_, the Commander, Captain Scott, who is a keen\ngolfer, took some clubs down there with him, and in some leisure moments\n\u201chad a knock,\u201d by way of reminding him of the old links at home, and of\nseeing what the sensation of South Polar golf was like. It is said that\nforged iron has a peculiarly cold and numbing touch in the frozen south.\n\nIt is the same game everywhere, and the law is always taken from\nFifeshire; but the conditions and makeshifts are sometimes peculiar. We\nhave said how at the Cape they putt on gritty earth that smacks of\ndiamonds, how in China there are graves for bunkers, and how across the\nChannel, Napoleon\u2019s trenches serve for the same purpose. Boulogne, after\nall, is only in the nature of a corollary to our courses at Walton Heath\nand Huntercombe, for hereabouts the golfers play where the legions of\nmighty C\u00e6sar were encamped, and the stables and the kitchens that C\u00e6sar\nmade, huge pits deep in the earth, are in the line of play, and things\nare so arranged that they constitute fine traps for erring balls, and\noffer remunerative opportunities for skill with iron clubs in playing\nout of them. And yet, if one must play bad shots, it is well that they\nshould be played in the direction in which C\u00e6sar dug, for these pits\nwere made so long ago and are so deep that they are often beautifully\nturfed with soft springy stuff, which anywhere except in a pit would be\na delight to play from, being so congenial to one\u2019s iron. We must\napplaud the Romans in this matter. It is nearly a pleasure to go into\ntheir kitchens and stables; they were made so long ago and they are so\ngreen and nice. There is golf at Old Calabar on the West Coast of\nAfrica, and there the putting \u201cgreens\u201d are made of fine coal dust. So\nthey are \u201cblacks.\u201d At Mexico and many other places they are merely\n\u201cbrowns.\u201d In Egypt, where there is much golf, they are often made of\nrolled and baked Nile mud.\n\nIt is not necessary to say that there is nearly as much golf played in\nAmerica as there is in Britain, and that the time may possibly come when\nthere will be more. But it is not generally appreciated on what\nold-established foundations American golf is played. The game has\ntraditions in America now, even as in Britain. In the archives of\nAmerican golf there is still preserved a document which shows how little\nof a new thing is the game in the United States. It is an invitation,\nreading as follows: \u201cGolf Club Ball.--The honour of Miss Eliza\nJohnston\u2019s company is requested to a ball, to be given by the members of\nthe golf club of this city, at the Exchange, on Tuesday evening, the\n31st inst., at seven o\u2019clock. (Signed) Geo. Woodruff, Robert Mackay,\nJno. Caig, Jas. Dickson, Managers; Geo. Hogarth, Treasurer. Savannah,\ntwentieth December 1811.\u201d The original is in the possession of the\ngranddaughter of the recipient. There seems to be some suggestion that\nthese pioneers of American golf were of Scottish origin, as pioneers of\nthe game until lately mostly were, and it might be appropriate to\nmention that Savannah, whose people are said to be celebrated for their\nlove of pleasure, piety, and sport, has in it the oldest theatre in the\nUnited States, while it also claims to have started the first Sunday\nschool in the world, founded by Wesley and perpetuated by Whitefield. If\nit started here, this was not a bad place for American golf to start at.\n\n\nIII\n\nRulers, statesmen, diplomatists, begin to take more serious account of\nthe sport-loving factor in human nature than has been their wont.\nDowning Street, Washington, the Quai d\u2019Orsay, and all the other\nnerve-centres of international affairs, where there are housed all the\ncleverest modern masters of opportunism, have entered upon the study of\nits peculiarities and tendencies, recognising that here is an instrument\nof the most delicate perfection for the cultivation of amity between\npeople and people when the bureaucrats have set the lead. The British\nEmpire is being soldered up with sport. Besides the constant visits of\nColonial cricketers, have we not had with us recently two separate\ndetachments of Colonial footballers, and has it not been evident that\nwhile the Colonial Governments have given their representatives the most\nopen and material support, even to the extent of voting them certain\nsupplies, Downing Street has smiled approvingly, and has, now and again,\nwhen not many people were looking, given a pleasant little pat to the\nwheel of friendship as it went rolling along from Cornwall to Edinburgh,\nand from Blackheath to Dublin? And was it not an open secret that the\n\u201cvery highest influences\u201d were brought to bear upon the controlling\nauthorities, with a view to avoiding the recent breakage in the regular\nsequence of Anglo-Australian encounters on the cricket field? The\n_entente cordiale_ with France is being promoted from a toy model to a\nbig machine that is working in the streets, largely as the result of the\nawakening of popular sympathies by such means as games. All the\ncongruous elements of different countries far apart are being attracted\nto each other, as if magnetically, by such influences as the motor car,\nthe bicycle, cricket, football, and, far from least, by golf: and the\npotency of these charms lies in the fact that when they are set to work,\nmen\u2019s minds are relaxed from the general materialistic sternness of\ntheir business times, and the humanity in them is asserting itself.\n\nNow, all those good men who take the cosmopolitan view of human\nhappiness must see that among all games with powers like this there can\nbe none of greater adaptability and general use and efficiency than\ngolf. It may be, and is used by people of every colour, race, creed, and\ntemperament, in every climate and all the year round. No recreation,\napart from the simplest contests of the river and field, has ever been\nso universal since the world began, with the single exception of chess.\nAnd wherever and whenever it is played it extends its benign influence\ntowards the promotion of fast friendship among the players. There is no\nfreemasonry like the freemasonry of golf. To its temples in every land\nare always welcomed the faithful and earnest craftsman from where\u2019er he\ncame, and he is passed on the signs of the bag and the stance and the\nlittle pimpled ball. For it is one of the articles of belief that no man\ncan be a good and enthusiastic golfer of experience and at the same time\na thoroughly bad fellow, for at the outset of his career the bad fellow\nwould never be happy in his game; others would not help to make him so,\nand he would either be stung by the consciousness of his own defects and\nreform, or he would slip away into the small silent pitiable minority\nwho leave the links one day never to return. Thus has our happy game of\ngolf wound a bright cordon round the world, and so does she play her\npart in the great evolution of general contentment.\n\n\nIV\n\n\u201cIn spring,\u201d we have been told in the _Georgics_, \u201cheat returns to the\nbones.\u201d And the blood runs eagerly through the golfer\u2019s veins. April and\nMay are the months of hope and of exultation. There is joy in the\npresent, in the showers and the sunshine, and a great joy in prospect in\nthe future. Each true golfer is a lover of Nature, and something of a\nphilosopher, and at this season, as at no other, when he gets wakened on\na bright morning and sees the country clean and fresh, and coming again\ninto bright green and many colours, while the birds sing at _allegro_\nand _fortissimo_, a deep pleasure fills his being, the pleasure of\nspring. He is alive, alive; and it is fine to be alive. Summer is\nglorious, autumn is beautiful, cold winter has charms for those who have\nproper feeling for it; but spring, the Germinal, is surely Nature\u2019s\nfavourite season, and the golfer must always love his spring.\n\nIt gives him hope and thought. Change always induces reflection, and\nhere we have the change of the seasons, and a little of all of them in a\nshort space of time. An old proverb says that \u201cApril borrows three days\nof March, and they are ill.\u201d But as often she borrows several days of\nMay, and they are warm and sunny, and so hereabouts we have the winds,\nand the showers, and the sunshine; and who can walk on the links to-day\nand not think something of what the rain has been doing, and what the\nwinds have done, and what the sun is doing and is going to do? Here they\nare all together, great master wonders to be thought much of. They are\nmuch to all men; everything to the sportsman and the folks of the\noutdoor life.\n\nThe sun and the rain are in such daily association in the days of the\nsportsman\u2019s spring, and more than ever is he inclined at this season to\ngive some passing thought to the phenomena of Nature, that one comes to\nwonder sometimes whether he reflects as he might do on the eternal\nexchange, how the drops of water that the sun takes up from the fields\nover which he tramps, the golf links that he plays over, the rivers and\nstreams that he fishes, are every one of them placed back again, perhaps\nnot on the same fields or in the same rivers, but in some field or river\nsomewhere. The bare fact is one of elementary knowledge; but its\nextensions are not so much so, and are interesting to think upon. If the\nsun always gave back to each particular sportsman the rain that it had\ntaken away from his own playing fields and rivers, how dull would his\nlife be from the knowledge of what the weather and the seasons had\ncertainly for him in the future? With the caprice of the clouds and the\nwind there is no such even and regular return of that which was taken\naway. The golf links of the Lothians may be kept rained upon and moist\nso that the turf is the most perfect, all with the rain that was sucked\nup from the courses of the south coast of England, round about Deal and\nSandwich and Rye; and surely when the links in the south are parched,\nand when they are green and moist in the north, we must think of that.\n\n\nV\n\nIt behoves every earnest golfer to keep a match-book in which there\nshall be faithfully recorded the results, with some particulars, of all\nthe matches whatsoever that he shall play in the course of each season.\nYet it is likely that not more than two or three golfers in every club,\nif indeed so many, keep such a record of the golf that they have played,\nwhich is sinking away into the forgotten history of their golfing lives.\nThe idea of the private match-book may have occurred to many golfers,\nwho, on a careful consideration of the circumstances of the case, have\nrejected it, though it goes without saying that the chief reason for the\nabsence of the book in the majority of cases is simple neglect. Those\nwho deliberately avoid the intellectual pleasures of the match-book do\nso either because they conceive that there is something namby-pamby in\nthe thing, and that it savours too much of the keeping of a little diary\nwhich so few people know how to keep, consequently degenerating into a\nrecord of the trivial acts instead of the life-governing thoughts; or\nthey are deterred by the fact that there are no such books with ruled\ncolumns ready for the purpose which are at all agreeable to their ideas\nas to what a match-book ought to be. Certainly there is no ready-ruled\nmatch-book; the little things to fit the waistcoat pocket are hopelessly\ninadequate, and really are only fit for doll\u2019s golf, so that it is one\nof the things to wonder at that there are still apparently some\nthousands of golfers--beginners for the most part, you may be sure--who\nbuy these trifles year by year.\n\nBut perhaps it is as well that there is no stereotyped form of\nmatch-book, to which we might be persuaded to attach ourselves with some\nmisgivings as to its form, and the irritation that would be caused us in\nthe future by the attempt to fill up constantly one particular column\nthat might seem to be either unnecessary or suggestive of indelicate\nrevelations. You will not find the ideas of many men in agreement as to\nwhat ought to go down in the book and what ought not. One will want\nspaces reserved for full particulars as to wind and weather, of the ball\nwith which he played, and of the many other little details of varying\nimportance, forming the sum of the circumstance of the day\u2019s golf.\nAnother will have a horror of such conceits, and will limit his\nconfessions to statements of the date, the opponent, and the result. As\nin other matters, the medium is the happiest choice; but the difference\nof taste which could not be accommodated by so many different varieties\nof match-book, suggests at once that the proper course to pursue is for\neach player to purchase a perfectly plain book and rule it off in so\nmany columns to his own satisfaction; or even, indeed, for the sake of a\nneater and less formal appearance, and an arrangement which is more\naccommodating, leave it blank, and let the facts of the match be\ninserted in order, just as the man is disposed to insert them at the\ntime of the entry. Then a blank column will not in after years convey\nany reproach in the matter of a possible suppression of the truth, nor\none overcrowded tell too much a tale of despondency and excuse on the\none hand, or on the other of that boastfulness that comes not well from\nthe heart of a good golfer.\n\nNow the beginning and the continuation of a match-book is a serious\nmatter, and the golfer will do well to come to an understanding with\nhimself beforehand as to the policy that he will pursue in regard to it.\nIt is essential that the strictest truth, and all the essential truth,\nshould at all times be set down, and it is only a simple extension of\nthe principle involved that if any matches are to be recorded they must\nall be so. The chronicler of the time must not consider himself as\nhistorian, and set himself to discriminate between what is important and\nwhat is trivial; for, as in all things, it will be many years hence,\nwhen the matters have been well sifted in the cold recollection of the\nmind, before such a determination can be accurately made. Therefore it\nis the duty of the chronicler to state the full facts, that is to say,\nas full as he determined they should ever be according to his system of\nmatch-book keeping, and he must leave it to himself in after years,\nwhen, the chronicler now exalted to the student of his own history, he\ncan ponder over the statements in his leisure and make such judgments\nupon them as he is disposed. Thus it is of the essence of the proper\nmaking of such match-books that no fault of the maker at any time or in\nany game shall be in any way extenuated, and that nothing to the\ndiscredit of the opponent shall be set down maliciously, so that in days\nto come, when the player shall have advanced many more seasons towards\nthe end of his golf, in turning over these pages and with their honest\nhelp fighting his matches over again, he shall truly behold \u201cthe bright\ncountenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.\u201d\nSo it seems that the best match-book should rightly be a strictly\nprivate thing; if it were meant as a book for the table or any other\nplace where it might be exposed to the gaze of the curious, there might\nat some time come a reluctance to the owner to state in full the truth\nof the day\u2019s play, since the honest criticism of a partner in a foursome\nor of an opponent, to some who did not understand, might not appear so\nnecessary as was actually the case. This faithful record should be kept\nunder lock and key, and it should be taken with him when the golfer goes\nfar afield for play which is to last more than a day, and the entries\nshould be made on the night of each day. It will be soon enough for\nothers to pry into this confessional when the golfer who whispered into\nit at nights is no more. That such present labour will afford a rich\nsequence of future pleasure there can be no doubt. Just as there are no\nfriends like the old friends, and no wine like the old wine, so one is\nsometimes disposed to fancy that there is no golf like the old golf that\nis now indeed but a memory, and one often much too dim at that. The\nmatch-book will refresh the mind to the recollection of dear friends\nwith whom one is no longer associated, and of fine sport that one had\nwith them on days when the thrills of life seemed to be a little quicker\nthan they are now. By the mention of an incident, and occasionally by\ngiving the score of a few holes, much of the whole game, shot and shot,\nis conjured up in the memory in all its keenness and its tensity.\n\nAnd it shall come as a good recommendation in this matter that the\ngolfer who is the favourite hero of us all, as he was a pattern of the\ngolfing virtues, made a match-book for himself while he was still\nplaying the schoolboy golf, and kept it continuously for the rest of his\ntime. Freddie Tait\u2019s match-book was just what we might expect it to be.\nIt was a very honest thing, and Mr. Low, who has handled it and copied\nsome of it for the deep interest of us all, remarks on the way in which\nthe brave soldier golfer never spared himself, his partner, nor his\nopponents, but dealt out praise and censure with a level hand. One day,\nthough he had halved his round, he says, \u201cPlayed as bad a round as\npossible\u201d; and at another time his comment is, \u201cNever played worse with\nthe exception of a few iron shots.\u201d Then as to a foursome it is, \u201cThe\ncharacteristic of the game was the bad play of both\u201d; and of his partner\nin another match he remarks, \u201cThe play of Mr. ---- was feeble in the\nextreme.\u201d\n\nThere were eight column divisions in Tait\u2019s match-book. First there was\nthe place for the date, then for the name of the links, and the third\nfor the statement of the parties to the match. The fourth column was for\nthe mention of the odds of the handicap if any, or for the name of the\ncompetition if he was engaged in one. Then there was one column for\nholes won and another for holes lost, a broad one for \u201cremarks,\u201d and a\nlast little one at the side of the page for the total of the score.\nGenerally the \u201cremarks\u201d were brief and pointed, and it is these which\nmake the record of the play of the most beloved golfer we have known so\nreal and human, so that it is a pleasure to sit by the fire and create\nsome fancies of these matches. Now and then there is a little humour;\nhere and there a touch of sarcasm at the expense of \u201cF. G. T.,\u201d as he\ngenerally referred to himself. Round by round there is the full story of\nthe way in which he won the championship at Sandwich, and the next entry\nconcerns the very next match that he played, which was the day after at\nRye, when, with his honours new upon him, he essayed the task of playing\nthe best ball of Mr. H. S. Colt and Mr. J. O. Fairlie. The remarks run:\n\u201cH. S. C. and J. O. F. too strong for the golfed-out Champion, to whom\nthey showed no mercy. H. S. C. and J. O. F. both played a good game and\ndid some very fine holes.\u201d Here there is a 6 in the \u201cLost\u201d column, and\nit is a notable thing that this, on 23rd May, was the first figure that\nhad appeared in this column of defeat since 16th April, though golf was\nbeing played almost every day. In his comments on the final of that same\nchampionship he twice pays compliments to the pluck of Mr. Hilton, who\nin the game was very soon left without the slightest chance of victory,\nand was beaten by a full eight holes. The gods would never permit the\nfavourite Freddie to be beaten by the finest player of his time, and\nthat player now refers to his early engagements with the soldier as the\nday when Tait \u201ccommenced his career as the slaughterer of Hilton.\u201d\nAnother day we find Freddie revelling in two glorious matches with\nAndrew Kirkaldy on the new course at St. Andrews. In the morning he lost\nby a couple of holes, but in the afternoon he was the winner on the last\ngreen. \u201cAnother splendid match,\u201d he rejoices; \u201cboth in great form.\nF. G. T. only halved the third hole by carelessly moving his ball with\nhand while removing a piece of grass. The hole was played out and won by\nF. G. T., but he had, of course, to lose a stroke, according to the\nrules of golf. This unfortunate accident made the difference of one\nhole. A. K., 80, a magnificent score. F. G. T., in: 4 3 5 4 4 4 5 4 4 =\n37.\u201d Here is another comment, \u201cR. T. B. very fair. Self good at first,\nbut got too many up, and then got careless, with the usual result.\u201d He\nlost that match by a hole. Another time, when he was playing the best of\ntwo balls, he wrote: \u201cPlayed badly. The two balls also bad.\u201d That match\nwas fittingly halved. In this way we can follow the happy Freddie all\nthe way through the spring and summer to the end of the year on all the\nbest links that are to be found, and these judgments of his will serve\nas models to other men who in this small matter would copy the methods\nof the perfect golfer.\n\nThere is this entry in the match-book alongside the date 31st July 1888,\nconcerning a match with Mr. Norman Playfair: \u201cDriving very poor. Put a\nball through a man\u2019s hat and had to pay five shillings.\u201d Young Freddie,\nthen only eighteen years of age, went to old Tom Morris to complain of\nhis ill-luck in the matter, but Tom answered him wisely, \u201cAh, Master\nFreddie, ye may be vera thankful that it\u2019s only a hat, and no\u2019 an oak\ncoffin ye hae to pay for.\u201d Even now, when the sad happenings of the\nSouth African War, which at the time so wrung our heart-strings with\nmisery, have been somewhat mellowed by time, the great consoler, it is\nimpossible to glide into this channel of reminiscence without feeling\nthat the pleasure of it is touched with melancholy that the body that\nheld that noble soul should be resting among the trees by the banks of\nthe Riet River.\n\n\nVI\n\nThere is nothing like the winds of March for testing the golfer in every\ndepartment of his play. Quite timid golfers are sometimes heard to say\nthat they don\u2019t mind rain; but if a man does not mind big winds, regards\nthem both from the sporting and scientific standpoints, and manages to\nmake some respectable golf while they are in charge of the air, he is a\nworthy player, and he may make his mark some day. It often happens that\nyou can apply test after test to two different golfers, and they will\nboth answer equally to them; but the wind test will separate them at\nonce. The man who can play the real game in a high wind, and use it to\nhis advantage at every opportunity, knows golf as others do not. He is a\nfinished player, and he rather likes the days of March for the rich\nsport that they afford--the real big game of the links. The other man,\nwhen he hears the wind playing like a German band round the side of the\nhouse as he tries to get himself off to sleep at night, thinks to\nhimself that he will have to give up the idea of golf in the morning. He\nshould not. Even if he never learns the scientific treatment of wind in\ngolf, he would find his game improved generally and made more powerful\nby playing it at times like these under severe difficulties, and it is\nworth playing in a wind if only to taste the sweet joys of golfing in a\ncalm afterwards, just as there is one point of satisfaction in getting\nwet through on the links because the change afterwards is so delicious.\n\nYou always find that a golfer is very much the better for a short season\non a very windy course. When he goes back to his home course, very\nlikely inland and protected, driving seems such a simple, easy thing,\nand he lets out at his tee shots with a freedom and a certainty which\nmake for a greater boldness and strength in his game. North Berwick is\none of the windiest courses. You do get wind there in the spring months,\nand there are hundreds of golfers who testify to the good that a short\nstay there has done to their game. They have simply got to learn to golf\nin all kinds of winds. It is like throwing a non-swimmer into seven feet\nof water with only a thin piece of rope round his middle. He very soon\ninvents a way of making greater security and comfort for himself. Stay\nat North Berwick long enough, and it may affect your style for life.\nMr. Robert Maxwell has a peculiar punching, but withal very powerful\nstyle, which is attributed to his upbringing at North Berwick. A man\ndisposed to probe very deep down for causes and effects might arrive at\nthe conclusion that the reason why, speaking very generally, there are\nbetter players and better courses, and more of each on the east coast of\nScotland than on the west, is because it happens that the links there\nare more exposed, and there are more windy days upon them than on those\non the other side of the country. Not that there are not big winds very\nfrequently to be dealt with in the neighbourhood of Troon and Prestwick,\nwhich surely have their full share, and it was at a championship at\nPrestwick that old Willie Park delivered himself of his famous remark,\n\u201cGuid God! When I get ma club up I canna get it doon again!\u201d so strongly\nwas the wind blowing on that occasion.\n\n\nVII\n\nIn the spring the professionals come tumbling on to the stage of golf\nonce more with their happy welcome cry, \u201cHere we are again.\u201d Sometimes\nin the middle of the summer season people are apt to say that we get at\nleast enough of these professional competitions, and that it would be\nagreeable if we had a little more time to think of our own golf in all\nits varied charm, instead of our attention being invited day by day to\nthe many permutations and combinations of \u201cthe quartette\u201d in exhibition\nmatches, and the aspirations of such as Jones among those next to them.\nBut what a dull season it would be if Vardon and Braid were not up\nagainst Taylor and Herd somewhere or other--it does not matter\nwhere--just as in the olden time, or Herd and Braid did not show once\nagain at the little course of Slocum-on-Mudbury that there was something\nwrong with their running in that never-to-be-forgotten foursome when\nfour hundred sovereigns were at stake. And then when Rowland Jones is\nincluded in one of these foursome combinations, we say, quite pleased,\n\u201cHa, Jones is coming on! Jones is going to assert himself!\u201d One day Jack\nWhite is in again--that happy-hearted Jack, who came by a great\nchampionship in 1904 at Sandwich, where records were falling in every\nround--and then we say to ourselves very good-naturedly, \u201cI hope Jack\nwill get on to his drive again in one of these matches!\u201d Or the fourth\nman may be Tom Vardon, and that is very interesting, because Tom is a\ngreat big sportsman who is stuffed tight with the effervescing joy of\nlife. If it is Andrew Kirkaldy, as it is occasionally, we rub our hands\nand observe, \u201cGrand matchplayer is Sam! Now we shall see how a foursome\nshould be played! Good as the best is Sam!\u201d\n\nThe fact of the matter is, that these professional matches and\ncompetitions are now a fast and integral part of our golfing system. We\nmay think that we could do without them, and in the summer-time we rail\nconstantly against them, and say that they never would be missed. But\nhow we should miss them! Golfing life would not be the same if there\nwere not occasions to make such almost daily observations as those just\nquoted. The season would be without salt, and our little amateur combats\nwould seem to be lacking in an unknown stimulus that was always there\nbefore.\n\nThen what a void in golfing life would there be if there were not\nconstant occasion to express admiration for the supremacy and the\nprowess of the triumvirate--Harry Vardon, Braid, and Taylor. When we are\ntoo frequently told of the achievement and the skill of the heroes of\nthe olden time, it is well to think of what the triumvirate has done and\nstill can do. Perhaps not many golfers, even among those who pay\nfaithful attention to such matters, have a proper sense of the amazing\nrecord of these three men. I had occasion to analyse it lately, and I\nbelieve not in any other sport have the periods of three such champions\ncoincided as they have done in golf during the last few years. It is a\nstrange thing that the fates should have pitchforked Braid, Vardon, and\nTaylor into the arena at the same time, each man being so much above\nall outside the three. It is as if Ormonde, Donovan, and Flying Fox had\nbeen in the same race for the Derby. In one sense it seems a waste of\nexceptional talent on one period, to the possible impoverishment of\nanother, but golf spectators and players should appreciate the advantage\nof the times in which they live, for it is unlikely that three such\ngolfers will ever be to the fore at the same time again after these\nthree have gone their way, and it is as certain as anything that a\nhundred years from now the golf world will speak reverently of the great\ntriumvirate of the early days of the twentieth century. It will\ncertainly be remembered that after this triumvirate had been established\neleven years in each other\u2019s company, they wound up a championship\nfirst, second, and third against the biggest field that had ever\ncontested a championship, this being at Muirfield in 1906.\n\nThree times in those eleven years the triumvirate collectively achieved\nthe highest possible distinction in this way, the first being in 1900,\nwhich was Taylor\u2019s year, the second in 1901, when Braid won, and the\nthird in 1906, when Braid was again successful. Taylor was the first of\nthe three to show activity, and he won the championship in 1894 and\n1895. Not until 1896 was the triumvirate definitely constituted, as it\nwere, by the whole three, Vardon, Taylor, and Braid appearing in the\nchampionship at the same time. In that year Vardon finished first,\nTaylor second, and Braid sixth. In the following year Braid, in the\nsecond place in the lists, was the foremost man of the three. Then there\nwas a remarkable run, for the triumvirate found the winner in seven of\nthe next nine years. Vardon scored twice running to begin with; then\nTaylor and Braid; in 1902 Vardon and Braid tied for second place; the\nnext year Vardon was first again; Taylor and Braid tied for second\nposition in 1904, and this was followed by two championships for Braid.\nOnly three times in eleven years did the triumvirate let the\nchampionship go out of their small circle, and it may be mentioned that\nthe three men who beat them on these respective occasions were\nMr. Hilton in 1897, Herd in 1902, and Jack White in 1904.\n\nAdding up the records of positions and scores of all golfers who took\npart in these championship competitions when the triumvirate did, and\nmaking, so to speak, one long championship of it, the triumvirate lead\nthe way, and the rest--the very best of them--are absolutely tailed off.\nThe scores registered in the championships, added up, afford the\nfollowing result: Harry Vardon, 3426; James Braid, 3446; J. H. Taylor,\n3454. Herd fittingly comes fourth with 3527, and then there is an\nenormous gap between him and the fifth man. Taylor would, of course, be\nin a different position if we counted in the two early championships\nthat he won, and let it be said for Taylor that, including this year of\n1907, he has been second for the championship four times in succession\nand five in all--a magnificent record such as stamps him as the most\nbrilliantly consistent champion of all time. But it is a heartbreaking\nrecord for Taylor all the same, and this great and popular player has\nall golfers\u2019 sympathy.\n\nGolfers are not like the brooks of poets; they cannot go on for ever. We\nshall look to see the great men of to-day playing fine golf in twenty\nyears from now, and upon occasion they will play such rounds as will\nmake us say, \u201cThat was just as in the olden time!\u201d But their average of\nmerit must diminish, and probably all the premier three, or at least two\nof them, have passed the high-water mark of their ability and their tide\nof supremacy is receding. Who, then, is to succeed them? For years past\nwe have been looking for likely and worthy successors. There are many\nfine golfers on the links, and occasionally great things are prophesied\nof some of them; but disappointment almost invariably follows. The times\ndo not seem to be breeding any more Vardons, Taylors, or Braids. A\ntriumvirate of the future is not yet in the making. Our grandparents and\nother good people constantly tell us that there are as good fish in the\nsea as ever came out of it, and it might seem a foolish thing to suggest\nthat we shall never again have such a band of supreme artists at the\ngame as those whose works we enjoy witnessing in these days. But are not\nthe chances heavily against there being again in our time simultaneously\nthree more men of such outstanding ability as these three, each one of\nwhom would be the sole man of his generation if it were not for the\nother two? Cricket did not produce three Graces at the same time;\nbilliards had only one Roberts. You could not imagine three Graces and\nthree Roberts. But we have had them in golf in late years.\n\nOne is inclined to think that the fact is that the men who are great\nto-day were trained in a severer and more heroic school than their\nsuccessors will be, and they had each a spark of genius which the\nconditions of the time fanned into the full flame of glory. We cannot\nexpect three more of them to come along at the same time; but we might\nexpect and do want one more, someone who shall be an acknowledged chief\nof the game, someone whom we shall be glad to see win the championship,\nas we cannot be so glad when it is won by a golfer than whom there is no\none more unlikely ever to win it again. I am no believer in these things\ngoing in a round of comparative mediocrity. What seems to be the matter\nwith most modern aspirants is that they have not that touch of genius\nwhich is so evidently possessed by the men who have been making golfing\nhistory during the past decade. They may drive well, play their irons\nwell, putt well, and they may do many grand holes and accomplish\nnumerous brilliant rounds, breaking many records. At times they may beat\nthe champions and past champions. But they are not the same golfers.\nWatch them play a round and you can see the difference. They have not\nthe same genius. They are merely ordinary human golfers, though good\nones at that; they are palpably suffering too much from mere human\nweakness. You see them trying hard, trying so very hard. The triumvirate\ndo not seem to try. It is just there. There is one of them who tries\nless than any golfer who has ever been born, and he does more when\ntrying less than those others trying hard. Yes, it is just there--the\ngenius for the game.\n\n\nVIII\n\nWe may set it down with some conviction that William Shakespeare was a\nborn golfer. It does not matter that golf was as rare in the glorious\ndays in which he lived as are eagles in twentieth-century Britain. We\ndo not say that he played golf, had seen it played, or had ever heard of\nit. So far as we are aware, there is no evidence to support any such\npropositions. Yet he was a born golfer, and if the game had come his way\nhe would have played it, and one doubts not that he would also have\nexcelled in it; so that it is well that it was after his time, or\nEngland would not have been proud in the possession of such work of his\nas is the envy of all other nations. For, of all the classic writers\nwhose work we read, there is none who gives such evidence in almost\nevery line of it that he was possessed of a perfectly ideal golfing\ntemperament, of a philosophy that seems constantly to have a subtle and\nmost perfect application to the life of the links. Through and through\nit is the real golfer\u2019s philosophy, that which is the best suited to the\nintensity of the game, to its deep humanity, and that which serves for\nthe complete appreciation and full joy of the game. You may read all the\nother poets, from Homer and Virgil to Byron and Tennyson, without ever a\nthought of the links obtruding upon your study; but it is no evidence of\na vagrant mind, or one that is indifferent to the sweetest music of\nwords, that not three consecutive minutes can hardly ever be spent in\nreaching Shakespearian lines without the fancy being touched by the\nperfection of the philosophy and sentiment when applied to the peculiar\npleasures and pains of the golfer.\n\nOnly one other classic writer with whom we are familiar can give such\nsolace to the troubled player, such wise counsel to him who errs or is\nin doubt, such chastening admonitions to those who have offended against\nthe spirit of the game and whose consciences are disturbed. That is\nMarcus Aurelius, and we pass on the volume of his rules of life to all\nthose players who from time to time seek their homes at night weary and\ndepressed after a day on the links, when all has been for the worst and\ndespair broods darkly over the soul. After all, the golfer who is\nindifferent to the ills he sometimes, nay often, suffers, and can in an\nhour completely forget the tragedies of two rounds, is somewhat too\nphlegmatic, and there will always be denied to him the higher ecstasies\nby which the men of finer and more nervous temperament are uplifted. We\ndo not set it against a man that when he has done discredit to his\ncapabilities, he should show many signs of inward turmoil and display\nmuch active vexation towards innocent persons and things on seeking his\nhome. He may rail against the arrangements of his household, and he may\nappear peevish to the members of his family, and find new faults in\ntheir manners and conduct. If they are the kind, sympathetic people that\nthey so often are, they will bear with him and wait patiently for the\npassing of the cloud. On the morrow the good game may be back in all its\nfulness and richness, and then at eventide there will trip lightly\nhomewards a happy and withal a penitent golfer, who will not be slow to\nconfess his fault and to make a full measure of amends. The colour of\nlife will have changed from the dull grey to the red of roses. And how\nmuch thinner and poorer would be the days of our golfing life did they\nnot contain such constant change and yield to us such a variety of\nemotion! But it is the days of sorrow rather than the days of gladness\nthat teach us the great lessons that all worthy golfers should learn,\nand they should not neglect the cultivation of the philosophic spirit\nfor which the best opportunities are then afforded. So it is likely the\nstricken player may find a deep and wholesome contemplation in his\nlonely privacy at the end of the day, by meditating with Marcus Aurelius\non the morals of life and events. He will tell you that \u201cyou have\nsuffered a thousand inconveniences from not being contented with\nperforming what your capacity was given you to perform,\u201d and so, by such\na little hint as this, he will lead you home to the simple truth that\nyour proper game is not your best game, and that much of the misery that\nobtains in the world of golf is due to the universal habit of too high\nappraisement of the quality of one\u2019s play.\n\nBut it is Shakespeare who teaches us best to be good golfers, and the\nsecret of the perfect application of his sentiment and philosophy to the\ngolfer\u2019s life is that his writings are so intensely human, and that of\nall the diversions of man there is none that so much stirs in him the\nsimple instincts, reduces him to the simplest human elements. A round of\ngolf will sometimes bare faults and qualities in a man that have been\nhidden from the time of their formation in his early years. It is to the\nman who constantly undergoes this fierce analysis that Shakespeare will\nmost appeal. Let the golfer test his text and see the perfection of the\nresult. The quotation selected for the first day of the year for a\nShakespearean calendar that was hung up in a golfer\u2019s den was--\n\n   \u201cLike a bold champion, I assume the lists,\n    Nor ask advice of any other thought\n    But faithfulness, and courage.\u201d\n\nCould a golfer take a better motto?\n\n\nIX\n\nNo class of man looks forward to the spring with keener anticipation\nthan the golfer. Overburdened with his winter\u2019s discontent, he fancies\nit as a time of sunshine, of dry courses, of sprouting young grass that\nholds up the ball on the suburban links and gives us the first good\nbrassey lies that we have had for some months, of the frequent\nretirement of the energetic worm, of the quickening of the greens, of\nthe leafing of the trees and the hedgerows, and the brightening of the\nface of Nature. The golfer is generally a strongly human man, who is not\ncareless of natural beauties as are too many in these increasingly\nprosaic and strenuous days. Perhaps he likes the coming of the\nspringtime best of all, because he is then enabled to play his game in\nthe best degree of comfort. He is less hampered with heavy clothing, and\nhis hands and wrists keep warm without any cumbersome artificial\nassistance. And then also he is persuaded, and he is evidently right,\nthat the balls fly very much better in the spring sunshine than they\never did through the heavy and often murky atmosphere of the winter\ndays. Even the golf ball welcomes the coming of spring, and given that\nit is properly struck it gets a better and longer flight through the air\nwhen it is dry and light, and it runs better on the dry turf when it\ncomes down, so that the player finds himself being given encouragement\nthat helps him wonderfully on to his game. And so the man who usually\ngoes by the name of the Average Golfer believes all through every autumn\nand winter that he comes on to his game best of all in the spring, and\nthat that is the only time of the year when he really does play his\nbest, his real game. The only time when he does not believe that he\nplays his best game in the spring is in the spring.\n\nThe fact is that the conditions of springtime are rather made up of a\nset of contradictions of a very aggravating character, and they often\nplay the devil with the game of this Average Golfer, the system of which\nis not too firmly consolidated. This person, one takes it, is a man of\nmedium young to middle age, a great enthusiast, of good means, one more\nor less constantly engaged in business, having a fair number of social\nobligations to attend to in evenings, and a golfing handicap of\nsomewhere between six and twelve. This man is possibly afflicted with a\ntroublesome liver, and this organ has a peculiar and most aggravating\nway of asserting itself in the springtime as it has at no other season.\nThen it is up to all kinds of tricks, the entire physical system of the\nman is disarranged and thrown out of gear, and the result is that when\nall Nature is smiling and the larks are piping as though their little\nthroats would burst with the fulness of their melody, the erstwhile\nhopeful golfer is in a wretched state of mind, trying new stances for\nhis drive, new ways of gripping, a swing much longer or much shorter\nthan usual, and man\u0153uvring with his strokes in all other kinds of ways,\nin the vain hope that he might be permitted to drive at least as well as\nhe did in January, instead of foundering one ball in three and lifting\nup one of the others high towards the heavens. But there is compensation\nin the increased hopefulness of spring. The game may be poor, weaker\nthan it was hoped to be. But it will mend; it will surely mend.\n\n\n\n\nMEN AND THINGS\n\n\nI\n\nFor one reason, if not for more, a Liberal Government is popular with\ngolfers of true feeling--because it gives Mr. Arthur Balfour, the\nex-Prime Minister, more to the links than when he is burdened with the\ncare of Ministerial office. In the days of the sweet idleness of\nOpposition we find him at play on a golf links here and on another one\nthere; now opening a new course and delighting the assembled players\nwith a little speech, which is rich in the spirit of the game; and at\nsome other time enjoying a foursome with some old political friend, or\nwith J. H. Taylor or James Braid as his partner. As Mr. Balfour is the\nbetter, as he will tell you, for being a golfer, so is golf the happier\nfor his intimate association with it; and some people who do not know\nand cannot understand, not being of golf, think we make over-much of a\nstatesman\u2019s interest in our pastime, as if the great of the land were\nnot bound closely up with other sports. Good and earnest-minded golfers\nfeel that they are kin to this player, because he is himself a pattern\nof the man imbued with the best sense of the honour and glory of the\ngame. He is loyal to it, he has the sentiment of it, and he has seen\nthrough to the inner recesses of its charm. Thus he is not ashamed, as\nno good golfer ever is, of abandoning himself entirely to its delights,\nof setting all his emotions and his thoughts free to race and frolic in\nthe joy of the links, and of allowing the high dignity of the great\nstatesman to sink away into the simple naturalness of the earnest\ngolfer. So we like this late Prime Minister not because of his political\nrank, but because he loves his game and does his best by it, and is at\nall times an example to the acolytes who come forward in nervous\nignorance of the great meaning of golf.\n\nThen it is less interesting to consider what style of player Mr. Balfour\nis, than what kind of man he shows himself to be amid the trials and the\ntriumphs of the links, where, it is indisputably held, a man\u2019s entire\nhuman nature, despite all efforts at repression, is forced up to the\nsurface for all to see. Here, then, we see the real Mr. Balfour as he is\nnever seen on the Front Bench at Westminster. There are no mashie shots\nto foozle, and no drives to top into the bunker in the House of Commons,\nto make a man feel that life is yet a feeble, disappointing thing. To\nthe Parliamentarian, the nearest thing in pleasure to laying a long\napproach shot \u201cdead\u201d against the hole is a successful speech, or the\nengineering of a majority on a division which is something above par,\nand these are dull things in comparison. Mr. Balfour, then, as we have\nstudied him many times at this testing game, is a man of many and\nquickly changing emotions, of a temperament somewhat highly strung and\nnervous, and capable of enormous enthusiasms and alternative\ndepressions. There is nothing that is phlegmatic about this Ministerial\ngolfer. There is something of the schoolboy left in him. One day I saw\nhim driving from the tee and getting a beauty, so that his ball was\ncleanly flicked for the best part of two hundred yards in a straight\nline to the hole. It is not in human nature to wait for tardy praise in\nsuch ecstatic moments, and he, his face aglow with pleasure, turned\nabout to his opponent, exclaiming, \u201cI _do_ push them away, don\u2019t I?\u201d\n\nOn the other hand, there are times when he is sadly mindful of failure,\nand he is much too serious a golfer ever to forget the most evil things\nhe has done. One time we saw him playing in a foursome--his favourite\nform of golf--with Mr. Eric Hambro as his partner, and after foozling\nhis approach in a deplorable manner, he called out wearily to his\npartner, \u201cDo you know, Hambro, I once did that kind of thing for a whole\nfortnight!\u201d It must have been the blackest fortnight in the right\nhonourable gentleman\u2019s career. He is something of a philosopher on the\nlinks, and when he makes a bad stroke he sometimes explains how it came\nabout to those who are near him, or to the course and the sky, if he is\nmomentarily isolated. This, indeed, is one of the very few respects in\nwhich the Prime Minister falls from what we may regard as the standard\nof the ideal golfer. He is inclined to reach too hastily at a\nconclusion, and some say to speak too much. Some masters have held that\nthe perfect golfer plays in absolute silence, and Mr. Balfour is not an\nabsolutely silent golfer, though in his case he is none the less\nearnest. It has been stated that never on the links does he make use of\nany other ejaculation than \u201cDear me!\u201d but this statement, besides being\nuntrue, is absurd, and is not complimentary to him as a golfer. Let him\nmiss a shot or do anything which he ought not to have done, and the\nhuman man comes out above the statesman, though, of course, nobody has\never heard Mr. Balfour commit himself to any unbecoming remark. But in\nthe production of effect from the minor expletives he is most skilful.\n\u201cBotheration!\u201d is the commonest of his ejaculations, and as he says it\nwhilst witnessing the descent of his little white ball into a yawning\nbunker, one, as an old golfer, sometimes realises that the most\nsatisfactory results in this respect are not always produced from the\nuse of the strongest materials. \u201cOh, this is indeed shocking!\u201d is\nanother favourite form of expression, which, as he says it, speaks a\nvolume upon the agony of the mind.\n\nFor the rest he is just a good, determined golfer, who is a first-class\nsportsman, never giving any quarter on the links, and never expecting\nany. You never see Mr. Balfour pick up his ball whilst there is still\nthe remotest chance left of his dividing the hole with his opponent, and\nhe would reject with scorn, like every other true golfer, the suggestion\nthat he takes his golf for the sake of the exercise only. It is because\nhe is thus keen that other and better players find it a constant\npleasure to match themselves against him, or to become his partner in a\nfoursome. They know then that they are out for golf.\n\n\u201cBig\u201d Crawford, his old-time favourite caddie, who keeps a ginger-beer\ntent alongside the eighth green at North Berwick, flies the Scottish\nstandard from the top of it when Mr. Balfour is on his most beloved\ncourse. A Russian grand duke, who did not know the truth, once na\u00efvely\nsuggested to Crawford that the flag was flying as a compliment to him,\nthe Russian. \u201cNa, na, sir,\u201d said Crawford, \u201cbegging your pardon and\nwith great respect, but it\u2019s for one greater than you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is looking after Mr. Balfour?\u201d they whispered one time at\nSt. Andrews, when the right hon. gentleman was playing himself into the\ncaptaincy of the Royal and Ancient Club, and was then Chief Secretary\nfor Ireland, and regularly attended by plain-clothes detectives in case\nof accident. \u201cI am looking after Mr. Balfour!\u201d Crawford said when he\noverheard. \u201cI\u2019m enough.\u201d And he would have been.\n\n\nII\n\nIt should not be set against a golfer for foolishness or faddism that he\ngives pet names to some of his favourite clubs that have served him well\nthrough many hard campaigns, and between him and which there has grown\nup a very close degree of intimacy, for some of the greatest players\nhave given this rank of name to their trusted clubs. \u201cMy driver,\u201d even\n\u201cMy best driver\u201d or \u201cMy old driver,\u201d is a cold term to apply to that\nfine head and shaft that you think have no equals on the links--at least\nfor you. All drivers may be called drivers; shall we have no other name\nfor the champion that has roamed with us and played with us over courses\nall the way from Dornoch to Westward Ho!? Call him \u201cBill\u201d if you like,\nand \u201cBill\u201d is a very good name; or if your fancy leans that way, and she\nis slender and whippy, you may call her \u201cBess.\u201d But better keep to human\nnames. There is a man who calls his baffy \u201cJumbo,\u201d and it does not seem\na nice name. I have a golfing friend who has a driver that he calls\n\u201cEphraim,\u201d and it is one of the most wonderful drivers ever seen, with\nsuch a long shaft that it needs a giant to wield it, but its owner is\nsomething of a giant too. When I hear him ask for Ephraim I know that\nmighty schemes are afoot, and, straining my eyes to the far distant\ngreen, I wonder that even old Ephraim should ever be called upon to make\nsuch efforts. But Ephraim has a way with him that makes for success. He\nis not to be used often, and then when he is he does his job well. That\nis Ephraim. And do not many of us know the famous golfer who has a dear\nwooden putter who goes by the name of Fanny? Fanny has done fine duty in\nchampionships ere this, and her master knows her every whim and mood.\nShe is a delicate creature is Fanny, and she is not so young as she used\nto be, and Mr. John, her master, never takes her out in these days when\nit is wet.\n\n\nIII\n\nMany golfers carry in their minds a fairly clear picture of a club that\nthey regard as their ideal. They have some notion as to its looks, the\nshape of the head, and the length and the thickness of the shaft.\nParticularly do they know what that club feels like in their hands as\nthey grip it to make the shot for which it, and it alone, is perfectly\nadapted. They have never seen such a club, and they fear sometimes that\nthey never will. Some old favourite of theirs has some of the points\nthat are possessed by this ideal, but it has not got them in the same\nripe perfection, and it has obvious faults which at times have cost\ntheir master dearly. There is no reproachful word to say against that\nold favourite. It is a good club, and it has done a fine service on the\nlinks, and as for its imperfections, are they not what its maker gave to\nit, trifling imperfections, too, which we are generously disposed to\noverlook when considering that fine record of service. But it is not the\nideal club; it does not feel like that club that we sometimes handle in\nour imagination, and then enjoy a glorious sense of power as with no\nother.\n\nIt is a pleasant thing to treasure in the mind such a club as this; but\nlet it stop at that. If one grand delusion in which there is nothing\nharmful, and which on the whole but makes for good, as most ideals do,\nis not to be destroyed, never set out to reduce that club, now made of\nbut filmy thought, to cold iron or clumsy wood. It will not be the same,\nbe the fancy ever so exact. The first efforts will bring forth results\nthat will be far poorer in quality than those made by old favourites of\nwhom we have spoken, and it will be as if the favourites have jealousy\nand resent these new-born interlopers, so that they will for the time\nbeing cease to give their best work to the man who is so plainly\ndiscontented, and who, being so, is lacking in confidence. And the\nfaults that are in those first models that come thus from the mind only\nincrease and aggravate the more as attempts are made to repair them. It\nis a Will-o\u2019-the-wisp, indeed, is this ideal club, be it driver or\nbrassey or cleek or iron, and it may lure the golfer to a shocking fate.\nLet us cling to the old favourites and be kind and generous to them. It\nhas been said, and it is no doubt true, that the perfect wife has never\nyet been born, and some men may reflect upon the advantages of life if\nthey had a perfect wife such as one whom they have painted in their\nfancy. But in their honesty they will turn their thoughts away from such\nconceits, and let them dwell upon the manifold excellences of the wives\nthey have, who have hearts that beat, and who, kind and patient and\ngenerous, have those human weaknesses which would be faults in the\nideal, but which only seem to give to the being the greater human\ncompleteness and even perfection. Thus, with this tolerant affection and\nappreciation, must we look upon our favourite clubs, and leave the ideal\nto lie unmaterialised and worthless in the mind, a pretty thing to think\nabout, but impossible.\n\nOnce there was a man who made a grand effort to materialise the ideal\nthat he had cherished through many seasons. It was a brassey. Some\ntwenty brasseys had he had made, but none of them was quite the thing\nthat he craved. There was something wanting, and thus his shots had not\nthe sting that they ought to have, or that he thought they should\npossess. But, so often disappointed, he let alone his search for the\nideal for a while, and made good friends with one of the real. But he\ncould not forget the ideal brassey, and it grew more and more definite\nin his imagination. He would look at it there with a smile on his face\nas he would be going home in the train, and he would handle it and make\nwith it that long carry against the wind that no club of wood and brass\nin his hands had ever made. Then he took the professional clubmaker into\nhis confidence, and in odd moments after rounds, in the shop they would\nsometimes talk of this great club, but neither would venture to suggest\nthat it should be made, though they spoke of it as if it were made. They\nwould pick a new one from the stand, and the idealist would say, \u201cNow,\nSolomon\u201d--he always called it Solomon--\u201chas a shade more hook than that,\nand there is a little sharper angle to his nose.\u201d The worthy clubmaker\nentered fully into the spirit of the fancy, and seriously, and he would\nanswer, \u201cAy, sor, but Sawlaman wasna made by my apprentice!\u201d Another day\nthe golfer would recount the story of his play at a fateful hole, and of\nthe narrow margin by which a fine long shot failed to clear the hazard.\nIt was a moving theme, and after a moment of silence the maker of clubs\nwould say in summary, \u201cAy, ay, sir; it was a pity ye no had Sawlaman in\nyer bag!\u201d Yes, it was Solomon that was wanted, just Solomon.\n\nThen one day the player fell to temptation again, and, stirred as of\nyore by his foolish hopes, he resolved that he would pluck Solomon from\nthe stronghold of his fancy. It was a desperate thing to do, a mad and a\nreckless thing, a defiance of the spirit world of golf. He told the\nclubmaker of his resolve, and begged that he would give his closest\nattention to the details of the commission and his personal care to the\nexecution thereof. The clubmaker, a good human man, was afraid.\nAwe-stricken, he said, \u201cYe\u2019ll no have ma try to make Sawlaman--a real\nSawlaman, sir. I couldna do it! I couldna do it! I canna make a\nSawlaman!\u201d But the player had steeled himself to his resolve; and so for\ndays and days old Sandy laboured in his shop, and head after head was\nshaped and rejected, and stick after stick was shaved and thrown away.\nIt was a weary task. Then the golfer went away for a stay at another\nlinks, and a month later he returned, and on passing Sandy\u2019s shop he was\nbeckoned in. \u201cYes, yes, Sandy! Got him? Got him?\u201d In Sandy\u2019s face there\nwas written a look that was half of disappointment and half of pride.\nHe whispered, \u201cNot Sawlaman, sir, not Sawlaman; he\u2019ll never be seen on\nthe links this life. But I\u2019ve got David, and here he is!\u201d And David,\nwith a black varnished head, most beautifully shaped, a fine greeny\nhickory shaft scared on, and a feel and a balance when handled, and a\nlie to the ball that spoke well for power and clean hitting. The golfer\nfondled the club for a while, for he was pleased with it, but he could\nsee, despite his pleasure, that it was no Solomon and that the great\nideal had not been realised, and he knew now that it never could be\nrealised; for while he was conscious that this club was wanting in some\nof the points that made Solomon so great, his imagination failed him to\ndiscover them. It was a grand club, but it killed a great hope; and\nthere was something of sadness in the manner of taking it over. \u201cNever\nmind, Sandy,\u201d said he. \u201cIt was a fine try, a very fine try; and I\u2019ll\ntell you what we will do. We shall never see Solomon, the real Solomon;\nbut let us have something to remind us of him, and then we will never\ntalk of him, the real one, again. We will call this one, not David, but\nSolomon. He shall be the Solomon,\u201d and so he is to this day, and in his\nname he marks the renunciation of that great ideal. And some very fine\nthings he has done, for he is a most worthy club.\n\n\nIV\n\nThe 1st of September is a fine date for the golfer, for it seems to mark\nfor him the beginning of the period of play which is the best of the\nwhole year. The summer heats are cooling, the tints of Nature are\nturning to beautiful golds and browns and crimsons, and with a little\nrain the turf begins to yield more to the foot and the club, and play is\npleasanter than it was in the dog days. We would have no sorrows to mar\nthe pleasure of such a day; but the golfer need only be braced to skill\nand worthiness by the reminder that this date has a little black edge\nround it in his calendar, for on that day there died one who was\ncertainly one of the greatest golfers who ever lived. That was Allan\nRobertson.\n\nIt will always be a difficult matter to compare the golfers of a living\ngeneration with those of a dead one, or to estimate the relative quality\nof the golfers of two different generations, both of them of the long\ndistant past. We have no standards that are carried on from decade to\ndecade and century to century, and while men do not change, their\nimplements do, and the courses on which they play, while, what with the\nalterations in implements and courses, the methods are much changed, so\nthat it is quite the same game no longer. Therefore it is impossible and\nfutile to make any comparison between the man we have to-day and whom we\nlike to think is the greatest golfer who ever handled a club, and some\nof the great heroes of the past. That is a question that can never be\nsettled. What we do know, and we can think it for our modern\nsatisfaction, is that there are of necessity many more fine players in\nthese days than ever there were before, and there are dozens for every\none that there was in the days of Allan Robertson and young Tom Morris.\nTherefore it must be much harder to assert supremacy in these days than\nformerly, and all the greater is the feat of doing it not once, but many\ntimes. If some of the old golfers triumphed as often, or nearly, we can\nsay for the men who live in our time, that, in the numerical weight of\ntheir conquest at all events, theirs are by far the greater\nachievements, and they must have that credit.\n\nAs in all other matters, it happens that estimates of the merits of\nthings of the past are necessarily indefinite; they vary from time to\ntime. One generation will have it this old-time celebrity was the\ngreatest in his line; while the sons of that generation make\nhero-worship of another master, and say that he was the best. So it is\nin golf. One time there will be a feeling that young Tom was\nincomparably the best of the golfers of the early period of the game.\nThen by and by a little of this enthusiasm will fade, and it will be\nagreed that there was no one better than Allan Robertson. Sometimes a\nwave of feeling will roll over these discussions in favour of good old\nTom, and of late years poor Bob Ferguson has been having justice done to\nthe magnificent skill that he displayed when he was in his prime. Now,\ntaking a mental vote from all the authorities one can remember to have\nspoken or written on these weighty matters, it seems to result in Allan\nand young Tom coming out at the top. Bob Ferguson is too near our time\nfor his merits to be properly appraised. Our grandchildren may better be\nable to give his due to the man who won three championships in\nsuccession, and tied for a fourth.\n\nBut there can be no doubt that Allan was a really great player in every\nway. Like Bob Ferguson, and like Harry Vardon in our own day, the beauty\nof his achievement lay largely in the concealment of his effort, and\nthis is the perfection of style. It has been handed down to us as\nindisputable, that the easiness of his style was its most remarkable\nfeature, and that he never, never seemed to hit hard at the ball. His\nswing was a long but a gentle one, and his clubs were light. He was the\nfirst man to cultivate in its perfection that fine cleek play from long\nrange up to the hole that in our day has been accomplished with such\nmagnificent effect by Vardon. The 79 that he did at St. Andrews in\n1858--he was then just turned forty-three years of age, having been born\nin the year of Waterloo--was then and for a long time later regarded as\na most superlative achievement. That time he was out in 40 and home in\n39, winding up with a 4 and a 3. That great things could be and were\ndone in those days, even reckoning their merit on the most exacting\nmodern standard, may be realised from the circumstance that, taking the\nbest scores at each hole in all Allan\u2019s rounds on the old course, which\nhe kept, and making up a composite round from them, that round works out\nto the strange total of 56,--out in 27 and home in 29. In this strong\nessence of Robertsonian golf the ingredients, in the order of the\neighteen, are, 3 3 3 3 4 4 3 1 3 to the turn, and 3 2 3 4 4 3 3 4 3 on\nthe way back.\n\nAllan was a great golfer, and a fine exemplar in every respect, for he\nwas a great-hearted player who never knew when he was beaten, was always\ncheery and with a smile, and he possessed the very perfection of a\ngolfing temperament, as most, though not all, great players do. That was\nwhy everybody found it such a delight to play with him, and why he and\nold Tom, who had also a fine temperament, were as a foursome pair just\nas strong and invincible as men could be imagined to be. That lionlike\nfinish of theirs to their historic match with the Dunns deserves all\nthe celebrity it has achieved, and will for ever hold, not so much\nbecause it was an exciting thing and a great match, but because it was a\ntriumph of the golf temperament over another that was not quite so good.\nAllan had the spirit of the game within him; he had the true soul of a\ngolfer, and his most casual utterances constantly indicated how he saw\nright through to the back side of the game. \u201cIt\u2019s aye fechtin\u2019 against\nye\u201d was a common observation of his, and there is only too much truth in\nthat simple remark, that the game is hardly ever with you, that it is\nfighting against you the whole way round. He had no greater admirer than\nhis famous pupil. An \u201cawfu\u2019 good player\u201d was Allan to Tom. \u201cPuir Allan!\u201d\nsoliloquised Tom once, when his old master was no more. \u201cThe cunningest\nbit body o\u2019 a player, I dae think, that iver haun\u2019led cleek an\u2019 putter.\nAn\u2019 a kindly body, tae, as it weel does fit me to say, an\u2019 wi\u2019 a wealth\no\u2019 slee pawky fun aboot him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey may toll the bells and shut up their shops at St. Andrews, for\ntheir greatest is gone,\u201d somebody said when he died. He had golfed all\nhis life from the time when he first knew that he was alive. His father\nand grandfather were golfers, and the first things that he played with\nas a child were golf clubs that were made for him.\n\n\nV\n\nSurely we must account old Tom Morris as one of the wonders of the\nsporting world, as he is indubitably in that relation to the world of\ngolf. How many times have we heard that the light of that long and\nhappy life was flickering towards its extinction, but the rumour has no\nsooner been spread than Tom comes forward in some activity to give it\nfull denial. Long may he continue to do so; every time that we hear he\nis sick upon his bed may a telegram come to us from St. Andrews to say\nthat again he is sitting in the chair outside his shop, watching the\ncouples as they come forward in their turn to hole out on that beloved\neighteenth putting green, which, with the clubhouse of the Royal and\nAncient beyond it, has during recent times comprised almost the entire\ncircle of his daily vision. Each time I go to St. Andrews I find him\nstill cheery, and indeed it seems to me a little cheerier than the last\ntime that I saw him taking the sun in his chair. There is the cheery\nrespectful greeting and the felicitous remark that it is \u201ca gran\u2019 day\nfor a roond,\u201d and in the next moment he turns his head to mutter a\ngrumble towards those \u201cboys,\u201d who are idling away a few spare minutes\noutside Forgan\u2019s shop, and are giving evidence of the freshness of the\nlife that is in them, to which Tom, a stickler for decorum in all\nconnected with golf, however humbly or indirectly, demurs. Like most\nothers who are running up the score of their life\u2019s round towards the\nninety mark, he is prone to tell you that times have much changed, and\nthat the boys were more sedate in the days when he was one of them. That\nis as it may be. But despite all the antics of the boys, and the little\nirritations that they give to old Tom, he remains a cheery Tom to the\nlast, just as he has always been. His life throughout has been imbued\nwith an optimism which has always been the most attractive feature of\nhis character. Every good golfer is an optimist. I deny that it is\npossible to be a good golfer in the best sense and not be an out-and-out\noptimist.\n\nAnother fine thing about Tom, and one that has always endeared him to\nthe golfing world, is the fact that there has never been anything in the\nleast niggardly in the gratitude which he extends towards the game with\nwhich his life has been bound up. Suggest to Tom that there is anything\nbetter in life than golf, and you have done the first thing towards\nraising up a barrier of reserve between him and you. Listen to how he\nspoke of the game of his heart on a New Year\u2019s Day twenty-one years back\nfrom now, when even then he was by way of becoming an old man. \u201cAn\u2019 it\nhadna been for gowff,\u201d he said to the patron who greeted him in the\ncustomary form for the first day of the year, \u201cI\u2019m no sure that at this\nday, sir, I wad hae been a leevin\u2019 man. I\u2019ve had ma troubles an\u2019 ma\ntrials, like the lave; an\u2019 whiles I thocht they wad hae clean wauved me,\nsae that to \u2018lay me doun an\u2019 dee\u2019--as the song says--lookit about a\u2019\nthat was left in life for puir Tam. It was like as if ma vera sowle was\na\u2019thegither gane oot o\u2019 me. But there\u2019s naething like a ticht gude\ngowing mautch to soop yer brain clear o\u2019 that kin\u2019 o\u2019 thing; and wi\u2019 the\nhelp o\u2019 ma God an\u2019 o\u2019 gowff, I\u2019ve aye gotten warsled through somehow or\nither. The tae thing ta\u2019en wi\u2019 the tither, I haena had an ill time o\u2019t.\nI dinna mind that iver I had an unpleasant word frae ony o\u2019 the many\ngentlemen I\u2019ve played wi\u2019. I\u2019ve aye tried--as ma business was, sir--to\nmak\u2019 masel\u2019 pleesant to them; an\u2019 they\u2019ve aye been awfu\u2019 pleesant to me.\nAn\u2019 noo, sir, to end a long and maybe a silly crack--bein\u2019 maistly about\nmasel\u2019--ye\u2019ll just come wi\u2019 me, an\u2019 ye\u2019ll hae a glass o\u2019 gude brandy,\nand I\u2019ll have ma pint o\u2019 black strap, an\u2019 we\u2019ll drink a gude New Year to\nane anither, an\u2019 the like to a\u2019 gude gowffers.\u201d\n\nSportsman, in the best sense, Tom has always been, and he was a worthy\npredecessor of the men who are to-day at the head of the ranks of the\nprofessional golfers. That is a pretty story that is told of Captain\nBroughton\u2019s challenge to Tom to hole a putt for \u00a350. As everybody knows,\nTom was once famous as the man who missed the very shortest putts, to\nwhom there was duly delivered, when he was at Prestwick, a letter which\nwas addressed only to the \u201cMisser of Short Putts, Prestwick.\u201d On the\noccasion under notice Tom was playing to the High Hole on the old course\nat St. Andrews, and had got into sore trouble, so that he was playing\ntwo or three more when Captain Broughton happened to pass by and became\na witness of what was happening. Tom, be it noted, always belonged to\ngolfers of that fine and sportmanlike persistency, who would never give\nup a hole while there was a single spark of hope remaining alight. \u201cOh,\npick up your ball, Tom, it\u2019s no use!\u201d said the Captain half chidingly.\n\u201cNa, na,\u201d answered Tom, \u201cI might hole it!\u201d \u201cIf you do I\u2019ll give you\n\u00a350,\u201d retorted the Captain, and it seemed a very safe retort too.\n\u201cDone!\u201d responded Tom, and thereupon made one more stroke with his iron\nclub, and lo! the ball hopped on to the green, and glided on and on\ntowards the hole, hesitated as it came nearer to it, curled round\ntowards it, crept nearer and nearer until it was on the lip--and down!\nHe had holed! Then said the triumphant Tom, \u201cThat will make a nice\nlittle nest-egg for me to put in the bank,\u201d and the Captain looked very\nserious and went his way. A few days later the Captain came along with\nthe \u00a350, and with a smile and a compliment offered it to Tom as the\nfruits of his achievement; but Tom declined absolutely to take a penny\nof it. \u201cI thank ye, Captain, and I\u2019m grateful to ye all the same; but I\ncanna tak\u2019 the money, because, ye see, ye wisna really meaning it, and\nit wisna a real wager.\u201d And to that he stuck.\n\n\nVI\n\nThere are alarms and excursions in the ball business daily, and the\nplayer takes a devoted interest in them all. The trade is striving with\nmight and main to put ten yards on to the drive of little Tomkins, and\npoor old grandfather, who began his golf at sixty, may think as he goes\noff to sleep at night that perhaps by the morning there will be a new\nball on the market which will enable him to get his handicap down to 20.\nThe good inventors are doing all that they can for him. They are trying\neverything and each thing in all possible different ways. The other day\na great professional was taking stock of his shop, and he found that he\nhad twenty-seven different varieties of rubber-cored balls in hand. And\nmany golfers feel that they must try them all and each new one as it\ncomes out. The evolution of the golf ball is one of the most wonderful\nthings of its kind. All of us who have played golf for more than five\nyears can plume ourselves on the fact that we lived in golf in the\nearlier era of the gutta; it is strange to think that possibly half of\nthe present golfing population cannot say that, so quickly has the game\nbeen coming on of late. But not one golfer in five thousand of those\nliving now played in the days of the feather-stuffed ball, which was the\npioneer. It had the game to itself up to 1848, which was the year that\nthe gutta came in. St. Andrews was the great centre of manufacture of\nthe \u201cfeatheries,\u201d and in the shop of Allan Robertson alone there were\nsome three thousand a year made. Of course three thousand rubber-cores\nwould be nothing in these days, but making a ball was a big job then,\nand they were expensive, costing about four shillings each. And a single\ntopped shot with an iron finished them absolutely! The ballmakers bought\nthe little leather cases ready made from the St. Andrews saddlers, a\nsmall hole being left to stuff the feathers in. The feathers were\nboiled, and it took a large hatful to stuff a ball tight with them.\nMr. Campbell of Saddell is believed to have taken the first gutta balls\nto St. Andrews, and when he did so there was consternation everywhere.\nThey thought the trade in the featheries would be ruined, and that\nanyone could make the new balls. So an attempt was made to boycott them,\nand it is even said that Allan Robertson bought up all the lost balls\nthat were found in the whins and destroyed them by fire! Tom Morris was\nworking in his shop then, and they quarrelled so violently the first day\nwhen Tom used a gutta that they parted for ever. Tom himself tells the\nstory in this way: \u201cI can remember the circumstances well. Allan could\nnot reconcile himself at first to the new ball at all, just in the same\nway as Mr. John Low and many other golfers could not take to the Haskell\nwhen it first appeared. But the gutta became the fashion very quickly,\nas the rubber-cored ball has done, so what could we do? One day, and it\nis one that will always be clearly stamped on my memory, I had been out\nplaying golf with a Mr. Campbell of Saddell, and I had the misfortune to\nlose all my supply of balls, which were, you can well understand, very\nmuch easier lost in those days, as the fairway of the course was ever so\nmuch narrower then than it is now, and had thick, bushy whins close in\nat the side. But never mind that. I had, as I said, run short of balls,\nand Mr. Campbell kindly gave me a gutta one to try. I took to it at\nonce, and as we were playing in, it so happened that we met Allan\nRobertson coming out, and someone told him that I was playing a very\ngood game with one of the new gutta balls, and I could see fine, from\nthe expression of his face, that he did not like it at all, and when we\nmet afterwards in his shop, we had some high words about the matter, and\nthere and then we parted company, I leaving his employment. There are\ntwo big bushes out there in Allan\u2019s old garden. Well, one of them was\nplanted by him and the other by me, just about that same time, so they\ncannot be young bushes now.\u201d But by 1850 the guttas were in general use\nand nobody was much the worse.\n\nIt is odd to reflect that golfers were very near the rubber core several\ntimes during the fifty-four years that the gutta held office. As we were\ntold in the big law case, an old lady made balls that were wound with\nrubber thread to make them bounce more; but, nearer to our rubber-core,\nthere were two golfers who at different times and places are said to\nhave made what was to all intents and purposes just the same ball in\nprinciple that we use to-day, but not so thoroughly made and perfected.\nOne of these golfers used to make them and give them to his friends.\nBut there was no advertising and not so much enterprise in the way of\ncompanies with big capital in those days, and these inventors let their\nchance go by. What a chance! There were millions, and millions again, in\ntheir idea.\n\nNone the less the Americans deserve the credit for being the men who\ngave us the rubber-cored ball as we know it. But for their belief in it,\nand their enterprise, there would have been no rubber-cores to-day, and\nperhaps far fewer golfers. Let me tell the real story of how they came\nby their idea and their determination. In the early summer of 1898,\nMr. Coburn Haskell was the guest of Mr. Wirk, one of the magnates of the\nAmerican rubber industry, at his house in Cleveland, Ohio, and both\nbeing golfers, they golfed all day and talked golf during dinner and\nafterwards. It was these dinner conversations that brought about the\nHaskell ball, revolutionised the game, and made an industry which is the\nmost thriving of all connected with sport. Both gentlemen agreed that\nthey wanted a better ball than the gutta, something that would go\nfarther. At last, after many sittings, one of them observed that\nsomething might be done by winding rubber under tension. Winding it\nwithout such tension would result in the ball being too soft. This idea\nwas elaborated during the next night or two, and then Mr. Wirk hurried\naway to his factory, obtained some rubber strands, and he and\nMr. Haskell spent nearly a day in winding, by their own hands and in\nsecret, the first ball of the new era. They covered it with gutta-percha\nand gave it to a professional to try, without informing him of the\nnature of what he was trying. They watched anxiously for the result,\nand with the very first shot that the man had with it he carried a\nbunker that had never been carried before, beating the best drive that\nhad ever been made on that course by many yards. Then the two makers\nsmiled happily at each other. They knew that they were \u201con a good\nthing.\u201d It took more than two years to invent a machine to do the\nwinding, and some time longer to perfect the process. Then the Haskell\nkilled the gutta in a season. Before that Britain supplied America with\nall her balls. Afterwards she sent none; but the makers of the Haskell\nbought 30,000 dozen that had been sent over, for the sake of the\ngutta-percha of which they were made, and at the bare price of that\nmaterial.\n\nIn the first five months of 1903 the American people shipped 40,000\ndozen of their balls to this country. So were the tables turned. Now\nthey ship very few indeed, as we make our balls ourselves. Instead, they\nare threatening American golfers as to what will happen if they catch\nthem playing on American courses with British balls. Of the little ball\nthat was thought out over the dinner table in Ohio on those hot summer\nevenings there are now half a million used in a week in the busy season\non British courses, and some fifteen millions, at a cost of about a\nmillion pounds, in the course of the season!\n\nBut yet not one man in a thousand who looks upon his beautiful white\nrubber core when it is new knows what and how much is inside it. In one\nball there are 192 yards of thread, the whole of which is stretched to\neight times its original length, so that, as it is in the ball, there\nare 1536 yards of it--nearly a mile. This thread has to be wound round\nsomething. It has commonly been wound round a tiny piece of wood; now,\nin the case of some balls, it is being wound round little bags of\ngelatine and things like that. Some people are under the delusion that\nin the case of such balls the whole centre is gelatine, and that there\nis no rubber.\n\n\nVII\n\nThe man who has the courage to enter upon a medal round or a match with\na keen opponent and play with a cheap, or cheaper, ball, is a rarity,\nand an admirable one. Faith goes for a long way in these matters. Give a\nman the most expensive ball on the market to play with, and he feels\nthat he has got something which will do justice to his capabilities, and\noccasionally let him off with light penalties for some of his errors.\nLet him have a cheap ball and he is uneasy, with the idea that nothing\nis likely to go right for him. When he has faith in his ball--his\nexpensive ball--he plays accordingly, that is to say, he plays with\nconfidence, and the probabilities are, of course, that in such case he\nwill play better than he would otherwise do, especially if he makes a\ngood start. If he has not so much faith in his ball--because it is\ncheap--he will not play so well, because he will play without\nconfidence. This is really a truism which is emphasised over and over\nagain on the links every day. As this player cannot test his balls\naccurately and show for a certainty which one is better than others, he\nhas naturally faith in the more expensive, because it ought to be\nbetter, whether it is or not. So one comes quite logically to the\nconclusion that the most expensive balls are the best. Now suppose that\nthe makers of any of our leading brands of florin balls were at this\nstage to reduce the price of their specialities to a shilling each. What\nwould be the attitude of these golfers to that ball? They would say to\nthemselves, or suspect, that these makers were taking something out of\nthe quality of their wares, and if they suspected that, they would\nalmost certainly find innumerable happenings in their next match, which\nin their opinion would give the utmost possible support to their theory.\nEvery drive that fell short of the proper standard would be put down to\nthe makers of the ball; this really very funny golfer would shake his\nhead and say that it was a great pity, and so forth, but that he would\nhave to give up this shilling ball, of which at two shillings he was so\nvery fond. And he would do it. But all the time there may not be a\nparticle of difference between the old two-shilling ball and the new\nshilling one.\n\nOnce again one is tempted to the fancy that there is a good future for a\nreasonably good ball to be sold at five shillings. It would not be a\npopular ball, because there is a large proportion of players to whom\nthis one would at last be too expensive; but all who could afford to\nplay with it by making some little sacrifice, such as by cycling to the\nlinks instead of going by train, by carrying their own clubs two or\nthree times a week instead of employing a caddie, or, simpler still, by\nreducing the weekly or monthly allowance for domestic purposes to the\nlady of the household because of the hard times, would certainly do so.\nAnd as the rich golfers would play with it also, it would have a good\nsale, and if it cost no more to make than the florin balls it would be\nvery profitable to the manufacturers. All the ordinary golfers would\nplay well with it. They would feel that they had the very best, that at\nlast they could do themselves justice. They would have confidence. Queer\nworld this of golf!\n\n\nVIII\n\n\u201cThe course is black with parsons,\u201d was said one fine Monday at the\noutset of his game by a man who had been kept waiting for a most\nunconscionable time while a minor canon and a plain vicar had been\nworrying away in bunkers on opposite sides of the first short hole. In\nthis observation there was some evident exaggeration, but it is being\nborne in upon us every day how more and more popular is this diversion\nbecoming with the cloth, as indeed it should and might be expected to\nbe, since golf makes its greatest appeal to those of the most thoughtful\nand philosophical temperaments, such as clergymen should possess.\nExcellent is this association, and it is a poor and threadbare humour\nthat is constantly fancying the cleric in such exasperation with his\ngame that ordinary modes of expression are insufficient for him. Having\nheard of the worthy divine who was horribly bunkered and in a heel-mark\nat the Redan at North Berwick, to whom the most excellent of caddies,\n\u201cbig\u201d Crawford observed, \u201cNoo, gin an aith wad relieve ye, dinna mind\nme\u201d; and of the other one who was reported as repeating the Athanasian\nCreed at the bottom of \u201cHell\u201d--the bunker of that name on the\nSt. Andrews course--one would wish to go no farther with such stories.\nThe celebrated Bishop Potter of New York was playing golf on the course\nat Saranac, and he made a mighty attempted drive that topped the ball,\nand another one that tore up the turf, and yet a third that almost\nmissed the ball, and each time he uttered a soothing \u201cSh-sh-sh-sh-sh!\u201d\nBut the caddie was himself a golfer of a very stern and human school,\nand in his great annoyance he exclaimed, \u201cMan alive! sh-sh-sh-sh won\u2019t\nsend that ball where you want it to go to!\u201d The Rev. Silvester Horne,\nwho is one of the keenest of the clerical golfers, and has been known to\ncaptain a side of parsons occasionally, once drew up a system of conduct\nto be observed by brother clergymen when playing the game, and a very\nexcellent system it was, with severe adjurations against the doing of\nmany things such as are common with the ordinary golfer, and certain\nsmall licences permitted to make the path a trifle less difficult than\nit might otherwise be.\n\nThere was a worthy rector who was given to golf, and was somewhat\nsensitive upon the subject of the large scores that were made by his\nfoozling. He had a pretty way; he did not count his score himself,\nthough who knows what subconscious ideas he may or may not have formed\nas to its dimensions? But be that as it may, he would say to his caddie\nas at last he flopped the ball on to the green at the short hole, \u201cNow,\nmy boy, how many have I played this time?\u201d The caddie, being official\ncounter to the rector, would say at once, \u201cSix, sir!\u201d Then the reverend\ngentleman would stop suddenly in his march forwards, and would turn upon\nthis miserable little boy with a severe and awful frown, and would say,\nor almost shriek, \u201cSix! six! six! Whatever are you saying, my boy? Have\nyou been watching the game? Do you really mean six?\u201d The caddie was\nutterly cowed. \u201cN--n--no, sir,\u201d he would stammer, \u201cI\u2019m very sorry; I\nm--m--mean five!\u201d \u201cHa! That is better,\u201d his reverence smiled. \u201cYes, no\ndoubt it is five; five, certainly. Let it be five. But\u201d--and this very\nseriously--\u201cmy boy, it is of the greatest importance to count the\nstrokes correctly at this game, and let this be a warning to you. Take\ngreat care with the counting.\u201d And yet it was six.\n\nBut, tell us, why is it that the clergyman, with all his magnificent\nopportunities, is so seldom anything like a good player, so often has a\nhandicap deep down in the teens? You may see him on the links six days a\nweek, and yet he goes on from year to year no nearer to the degree of\nscratch, still driving his short and very wayward ball with that\nnervous, fearful stance of his, that slow, hesitating swing. I can\nalmost tell the clergyman on the tee, however he may be disguised, he is\nsuch a doubter. Yet, with his opportunities, the Church ought to be by\nway of finding a candidate for the championship. Can it be that the\nphilosophical temperament in excess kills keenness and makes a man\ncontent in his own little kingdom of foozling and shortness--\n\n   \u201cContented if he might enjoy\n    The things that others understand.\u201d\n\nThere can be no other explanation. But it is to be set down perhaps to\nthe clergyman\u2019s credit that he is so often unorthodox in his methods.\nOn the links he is the broadest-minded man alive, and he is tolerant of\nall things. Why, if ever in London one wants to be reminded of just the\nway in which the Barry swing is done, one might seek out none other than\nthe Bishop of London, for if ever a man performs that fall-back,\nbent-kneed swipe it is Dr. Ingram, as photographs will prove. If this is\nto be, then an archbishop might play no stymies, and how then shall a\ncurate become a champion?\n\n\nIX\n\nWe have not that form and ceremony in the management of our golf clubs\nthat our ancestors had, nor is there so much idea and sentiment\nemployed. Golf in these days seems often to be regarded too much as a\nwork-a-day affair, so that at few places besides St. Andrews is there\nany real preservation of the old feeling. Else, the true spirit\ndominating, why should there not still be chaplains to all the\nold-established golf clubs? How much the chaplain counted for in the\ngreat golfing days of old may be gathered from the minute of the\nHonourable Company which they made when settling an appointment to the\noffice. The club then had its home at Leith, the date being 1764, and it\nwas entered in the book--\u201cThe Captain and Council, taking into their\nserious consideration the deplorable situation of the Company in wanting\na godly and pious Chaplain, they did intreat the Reverend Doctor John\nDun, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Galloway, to accept\nthe office of being Chaplain to the Golfers; which desire the said\nDoctor, out of his great regard to the Glory of God and the good of the\nSouls of the said Company, was Religiously pleased to comply with.\nTherefore the Company and Council Did and Do hereby nominate, present,\nand appoint the said Rev. Doctor John Dun to be their Chaplain\naccordingly. The said Reverend Doctor did accept of the Chaplaincy, and\nin token thereof said Grace after dinner.\u201d Whether the general company\nof golfers is at present in as \u201cdeplorable situation\u201d as the Honourable\nCompany was at this time, is a nice point which need not be inquired\ninto.\n\n\nX\n\nIn a day when the young school of golfers is making such a determined\nadvance it is often difficult to make distinctions of merit and to\ndetermine who are the most promising and who will most probably become\nthe really great golfers of the future. We are a little too much\ninclined to get into the way of saying that this man is likely to be an\namateur champion of the future, and that that player is almost a\ncertainty for the high honours of the game. When people talk in this\nirresponsible fashion they forget several things--that competition now\nis many times keener than it was in the days when the Balls and the\nTaits and the Hiltons first became champions, and when it was quite safe\nto prophesy beforehand that they would be, and that in the future it\nwill be keener still; that there is more luck than ever in the game and\nin the selection of champions, and that if the honour is to be denied\nto such a fine player as Mr. John Graham, who has forgotten more about\nthe game than some of the younger school know, nobody should say that\nothers are likely to be champions; and that because a man does some fine\ngolf for a week or two it does not follow that he is a fine golfer.\n\nThe game no doubt is easier now than it used to be, and it is more\ndifficult for fine distinctions in merit between players to be\nreproduced in the balance of holes; but still in the long run knowledge\nand skill will tell, and those men of the younger school who are deeply\nthoughtful and scientific golfers will in the end separate themselves\nfrom those of their rivals whose methods are more of the slapdash order.\nWith all the advance of the young school, and its scores of men with\nhigh plus handicaps, each of whom is declared to be good enough to win\nthe championship if it finds him on his day, one would seriously\nhesitate to suggest that there are more than five or six young players\nat the present time who show any promise at all of becoming as good\ngolfers as Ball and Hilton and Laidlay have been. The remainder may be\nonly the veriest trifle their inferiors, and the difference may be so\nsmall that it may constantly be not indicated in the results of\ncompetitions, or it may even show a balance to the credit of the players\nwhom we are regarding as the inferior ones. But in the long run the\nminority, who know more about the game, will triumph, and will be\nseparated from the general ruck. With all the talk that there has been\nabout the levelling up of the players as the result of the rubber-cored\nball, depend upon it that in twenty years from now we shall still have\na high table in golf, at which will sit the acknowledged masters of the\ngame, just as some of those whose names we have mentioned have sat at\nthis table for the past decade or two.\n\n\nXI\n\nPerhaps it would be as well for the golf of some of us if now and again\na time of quiet and inactive thought were enforced. It is certain that\nmany men feel much the better in their game for having been deprived of\nplay for a time, greatly irritated as they have been. The fact is that\nhe who is a faithful golfer often plays it mentally when real shots on\nthe links are denied to him. It turns out that this mental golf is of a\nvery thorough order; never is the player so analytical and severely\ncritical of his methods as then, and never does he grope more patiently\nor more intelligently for the hidden light that is the source of\nsuccess. It is simple fact that men have discovered grave faults in\ntheir play in this way, such as they never suspected during the whole\nseason that they had been committing them in real play on the links. And\nin the same way others have come upon great secrets of fine details of\nmethod, making for the improvement of their game, which they would never\nhave encountered at golf on a course.\n\nThe chief, if not the only reason, and one that is quite good enough to\nbe convincing, for this somewhat peculiar state of affairs is, that this\nis essentially practice and experimental golf, in which the player is\nconstantly wondering and trying something new; while the golf that he\nplays with clubs and balls on the green grass is far too often\nexclusively match-play or score-play golf, and that is regarded at the\ntime as too responsible a thing to permit of any experiment. The old\nways may be bad ways, and no doubt many of them are; but we must stand\nby them on occasions of this kind, we say to ourselves, when the wise\nprecept of an old player-friend flashes across our mind, the opponent\nbeing one up with three to go, and a very vindictive fellow. It is\nevident, then, that we do too much of this match and score play, and\nthat the consequence is that we are never given time and the opportunity\nfor thought and practice and the working out of experiments and ideas\nthat might prove of the utmost moment. Our game runs along a little\nold-constructed channel, and it gets clogged with fault. When we go out\nto golf for the day, no other possibility presents itself to our minds\nthan that of the two rounds, one before luncheon, and the other one\nafter, with living opponent or opponents, and always upon such occasions\nwe must trust to the old ways to pull us through. How much would it make\nfor future improvement if one of the rounds, or a long afternoon, were\ndevoted to simple lonely practice with one club, or at most two, in\nwhich new ideas might be tried, theories considered, and different and\nperhaps more effective ways to salvation worked out. Spend an hour thus\nin close communion with one\u2019s cleek or iron, and what an intimacy is\nestablished that never would have been otherwise! There used to be\nsuspicion, distrustfulness, fear, and neglect--and what may follow upon\nsuch relations save utter failure?--but now there is friendship, and an\nappreciation of capabilities and qualities that bodes ill for the\narrogance of the opponent who has seen so many failures with this cleek\nor iron, that he has come to think that when it is unbagged it is time\nfor him to be adding one more hole to his score. The man who never does\nany of this practice golf never gives himself a chance of learning how\nto play more than one stroke with one club, and when there is only one\nstroke to a club it is not generally a very good or very reliable\nstroke, as can easily be shown.\n\nThinking thus, we perceive the value of influenza and the minor\nillnesses, and come to realise the truth of the remark by one earnest\ngolfer, that the thing that of all others had most improved his game of\ngolf was a severe attack of typhoid fever, which all but summarily\nterminated his career. When this man told us that he emerged from that\ndisquieting experience a new and better golfer, and one more thorough,\nthe observation seemed cryptic to the point of absurdity, and it was not\ntaken very seriously. But it is certainly true that a very earnest\ngolfer will think long and hard upon all points of his game during a\ndull period of enforced rest and idleness such as comes at sickness, and\nthen all the sins of omission and commission loom up in his troubled\nmind, and he corrects the faults that he knows now, as probably he would\nnot admit before, went to the undoing of his game. The entire position\nis revised; in the early days of convalescence we send downstairs to the\nstudy for some favourite volumes, and we look up Vardon, Braid, or\nTaylor on a subtle point of which we have been making mental\nexamination. The thoughtful studies of Mr. John Low are a stimulant at\nsuch times. Such introspection is a fine thing and most fruitful, and\nlittle wonder after all that the player does indeed return to health a\nwiser and a more complete golfer, who will now go farther in skill upon\nthe links than ever he would have done in the old, narrow, careless\ndays.\n\nWhat follows is a story that bears somewhat upon the moral that we have\nbeen thinking over. There was a man who was in want of a shot that would\ncome between the driving iron and the wood, and he could not find one.\nOf the cleek he had no good word to say; he could not play it. Of\ndriving mashies he had several, and some of them were well enough at\ntimes, and at others they were like the cleek, so that what with his\ndriving mashies and his cleeks, this man was in constant jeopardy when\nthere was a shot of a hundred and sixty or seventy yards to play, and so\nhe was unhappy in his game. It happened that one of his driving mashies\nwas one that had been gifted to him upon a day by a great player, who\nsaid, \u201cI pick this from all that I have seen; may I never play more if\nit is not a perfect club!\u201d The man tried it, and it seemed to him that\nthe head wanted more ballast, and after a little while he allowed the\nclub to be gathered to his fine collection of idle relics, saying to\nhimself consolingly, \u201cWhat suits one man does not suit another.\u201d Thus it\ncame to pass that the perfect club that a champion player declared he\nwould love to play a long-short hole with to save the life of himself or\nhis dearest friend, lay for months and years in a dark cupboard.\n\nIn the even cycle of this golfer\u2019s life the time of torment came round\nonce again, and, as it had seemed before, it was more desperate than it\nhad ever been. There appeared to be no remedy. All the tricks had been\ntried, and all the clubs generally put into commission had been\nexperimented with, and there was no good result. And then a strange\nthing happened. Things were at about their worst, when, as sometimes was\nthe case, this poor tormented golfer awoke in his bed very early one\nmorning in summer. The sun had not long broken the darkness; it was\nabout three o\u2019clock. Being a man who went to bed betimes and who was\nearly refreshed, he did this time, as on others, lie in long thought\nupon the events of life and his own affairs, the perfect stillness of\nthe time conducing to effective contemplation. And, as was inevitable,\nthe chain of reflection brought him round to the prevailing worry of the\ngame, and for half an hour or so he considered this grave problem from\nevery conceivable point of view, and subjected each iron instrument that\nwas concerned with it to the severest cross-examination, from which none\nemerged with an unspotted reputation. It is not always in the human\ngolfer to attach entire blame to flesh and blood, and wholly exonerate\ninanimate iron. Pride must have its place, even in the times of\nadversity. This man was self-assured that one reason for his\nfailure--not the whole reason, perhaps; but still one reason--was that\nall his searchings and purchasings had yet left him without the club\nthat he really needed, that one which was resting somewhere in a shop or\nin another man\u2019s bag, that was the affinity of his game, the thing that\nwas meant for him and which one day might come his way. He had a vague\ninstinct of what the feel of that club would be like, of the shape of\nits head, its balance, and the length of the shaft. When he encountered\nit he would know it at once for the long-sought-for club.\n\nThen, as by a gift of the gods, an idea flashed through his mind and\ncaused him to start up, thoroughly roused from the dreamy state of\nlethargy. That club! That old despised club that had come to him from\nthe champion with such a glowing recommendation, wasted entirely! That\nwas the club that was wanted; it must have been one of the most\nirresponsible and illogical moments of his golfing lifetime when it was\nrejected. Did it not conform to that ideal that was vaguely felt in the\nmind? As he handled it in imagination now, did it not seem quite\nperfect, that above all other clubs its true motto was \u201cFar and sure.\u201d\nWhen a golfer makes discoveries of this kind about his old clubs, that,\npoor things, cannot speak for themselves and tell him what he is doing\nwrong, he is man enough to own his previous mistakes, and this player\nowned them. He was all contrition, repentance, humility. He wished to\nabase himself before the champion club and promote it to the captaincy\nof his bag. Therefore when there is no sound to be heard save the\nchirruping of the birds and the creaking of stairs, see this inspired\ngolfer leave his room, clad in a dressing-gown, at half-past three in\nthe morning, and go forward to the ransacking of a rubbish cupboard in\nsearch for the wanted club. And there it was found at last, a little\nrusty, the marks of privation from golf and of severe neglect written\nplainly upon its face, but sure enough that same grand club that had\nlived in the remembrance until at last it was appreciated. Yes, it was\njust as it had been imagined to be. It was the perfect club; it would do\nwhat all others had failed to do. Happy club in which there is placed\nsuch belief and confidence, for the less likely is it ever to\ndisappoint! In his mood of repentance the man gets a little emery and\nbrightens up the blade until the first shafts of the morning sunlight\nglint upon it. Being a handy man with a tool or two, he takes out the\ntack at the end of the grip and unwinds it, laying it back again in some\nway to suit the fancy of the time. And then the grip is waxed, and the\nclub is ready, and it is laid to a ball on the hearth-rug, and how that\nball could be hit, with a fine, low, skimming flight that would yield\nmuch length, and the stroke, having been something of a push, would dump\nthe ball at the end of it just down beside the flag! It is no use. Let\nit be four o\u2019clock or twelve, why should the conventions keep us off the\nlinks when these exalted moods are upon us? The golfer hurries through a\nbath, puts his clothes about him, and with the whole world of golf save\nthis one unit still asleep, even unto the most watchful greenkeeper, he\nhurries down to the course with a few balls and just this one club, this\none fine club. And there the truth of it all is realised. It is the club\nthat was wanted, and the shots that come from it are just as perfect as\nshots by this man will ever be. The balls are fired off up to the first\ngreen one by one, and it is found then that such are the virtues of this\nclub of exquisite balance that it is a splendid thing to putt with!\n\nIt is a glorious morning. The pearly sky seems to speak well of weather\nprospects for the day when it opens out, and there is not wind enough to\ncurl a wavelet on the sea, which simply makes a little soothing creamy\nlapping on the pebbles. How grand is the fine expanse of the course in\nthis morning freshness, and is there not something of rugged beauty in\nthat huge sandy projection which marks the short hole far out? This\nindeed is the time of day for the golfer to be abroad. Happy man who is\nin this mood, having found that which was lost. The golfing life is not\nthe same. A little thought and much confidence, and see to what they\nwill carry you! Make the most of them, you happy fellow, for they may\nnot last--they may not last!\n\n\n\n\nTHE QUEER SIDE\n\n\nI\n\nProbably it is true that golf carries its votaries farther in enthusiasm\nthan does any other game or sport. It is characteristic of the golfing\nenthusiasm that it does but increase as time goes on, and that not in\nthe case of one man in twenty does it show any diminution, while the\ngame is such a jealous mistress that it is rarely the convert to golf\nmaintains any regular association with other sports unless he is of such\ncomplete leisure that it is impossible for golf alone to fill up his\nhours. Practically every golfer, therefore, is a keen enthusiast, and\nthough we dislike to hear the phrase come from the lips of those who are\nnot of us, we have to confess that there is some justification for the\nextremity of this enthusiasm being described as \u201cgolf fever\u201d; for indeed\nat times it provokes the player to the doing of many things which in the\ncold light of reason afterwards would not be regarded as completely\nrational. We are all enthusiasts; but who was the greatest enthusiast\nwho ever was? An impossible question to answer, of course, if for no\nother reason than that the limit appears to have been reached by\nhundreds; but tradition can always settle matters of this kind in its\nown way, and it has determined for us who was the keenest golfer, and\nhas seen to it, moreover, that his memory shall be safely perpetuated.\nThus we have old Alexander M\u02bbKellar as the patron saint of the man who\nlikes to get his three and four rounds a day in the summer-time, and is\nmiserable unless he has a club in his hand in his resting hours.\n\nIt is something to have become regarded as the keenest golfer, for it\ngoes without saying that every other worldly consideration of every\ndescription whatsoever must have been sacrificed to the attainment of\nthat vast distinction. Such a man must have really earned the title of\n\u201cCock o\u2019 the Green,\u201d which was given to M\u02bbKellar, and with that title\nhis fame will be handed down through the generations as it is affixed to\nan historic print. This picture of the old worthy, who indeed was fairly\n\u201cmad\u201d on the game, was first circulated more than a hundred years ago,\nand has become one of our most cherished golfing antiquities. His\nenthusiasm brimmed over when in the act of play, and \u201cBy the la\u2019 Harry,\nthis shall not go for nothing!\u201d as he used to say involuntarily when\naddressing the ball, became something of a catch-phrase in his district.\nHe did his golf from Edinburgh, and Bruntsfield Links was his playing\nground. How often does one find that they are the keenest golfers who do\nnot take up the game in their youth? It may be true that generally the\nman who does not swing a club as a child has not such a good chance of\nbecoming a player with pretensions to championship form as have those\nwho made such early acquaintance with the game; but do we not find that\nthese men become the fondest and most thorough players, making up in\nenthusiasm and real enjoyment what they lack in skill? Thus there is a\ngrand compensation after all, and let us weep no more for the golf that\nwe missed in our schooldays; for some of those who played it then are\nthey who now find their greatest ease of heart for some weeks of the\nyear at fishing, shooting, or some other sport in which something has to\nbe killed.\n\nAnd so the \u201cCock o\u2019 the Green\u201d did not begin his golf at all until he\nwas quite a middle-aged man, and all likelihood of his ever becoming a\nreally finished player had completely vanished. And he was of\ncomparatively humble means. He had saved a little money, such as went\nfor some justification for his constant idleness; but his wife found it\nnecessary to keep a tavern in Edinburgh when they went to live there.\nM\u02bbKellar gave no hand in the management of this tavern; he had no time\nfor anything but golf, and bitter were the upbraidings that he had to\nendure from his worthy and industrious dame as a consequence.\nMrs. M\u02bbKellar may indeed be set down as the first that we know anything\nabout of that long line of sufferers who go by the name of golf-widows.\nThis lady might have borne her isolation better if it had not been the\nfact that she was somewhat mocked for it, and found the name of her lord\na byword in every neighbour\u2019s house and at every street corner for his\nover-indulgence in the game of golf, fair \u201ccracked\u201d on it, as everybody\ntook him to be. She tried to shame him once, but had much the worse of\nthe experiment. She thought to make him a butt for the laughter of his\ncompanions by taking to the links one day his dinner and his nightcap.\nBut when she arrived there he was in the throes of a hard-fought match,\nand when she offered him the meal he answered her kindly, but with some\ntouch of impatience, that she might wait if she chose until the game\nwas completed, when he would attend to her, but that for the time being\nhe had no leisure for dinner. And the game went on. So she came to\nloathe the very name of golf, and was scarcely civil to the tavern\ncustomers who were players and friends of her good man. But one day she\nhad a sweet revenge upon him. She set out for a journey to Fife, and was\nexpected to be away for at least a day. No sooner was her back turned\nthan hospitable M\u02bbKellar went forth to bid his golfing friends to his\nhouse, which, when its lady was in residence, they might in no wise\nenter. A fine feast was prepared, and the party was a merry one, when\nthe door opened, and there stood, with a countenance drawn with\nsuppressed wrath, Mrs. M\u02bbKellar, who had been obliged to return, through\nthe ferry being impassable as a consequence of the severe weather that\nprevailed.\n\nEvery morning the \u201cCock o\u2019 the Green\u201d hurried through his breakfast, and\naway he went to Bruntsfield Links with all the haste possible, never\nreturning home again until night had fallen. Sometimes, indeed, he did\nnot come then, if there were any good golfing excuse for not doing so.\nMany were the times when he was discovered playing at the short holes by\nthe dim glimmer of a lamp, and a moonlight night was an almost\nirresistible temptation to him. Heat and cold did not diminish his\nardour; and in the winter, when the snow covered the course, he would do\nhis utmost to persuade an opponent to share a round with him; and if he\nfailed he would go out alone and wander the whole way round playing his\nball from flag to flag, the greens and holes not being discoverable.\nLike all keen golfers he loved the foursome, and preferred to be tested\nby it if he could find a partner of any quality whatever. One day he was\nin Leith and fell in conversation with some strangers there,\nglass-blowers they were, and, as always, the subject turned upon the\ngame, and from the game in general to the prowess of the \u201cCock o\u2019 the\nGreen\u201d in particular. The men of Leith affected to think little of his\nplay, and challenged him to a match, upon which moment a Bruntsfield\nyoungster made his appearance. \u201cBy gracious, gentlemen!\u201d exclaimed\nM\u02bbKellar, \u201chere is a boy, and we will play you for a guinea!\u201d The match\ntook place, and victory lay with M\u02bbKellar, who was so excited when the\nlast hole had been played that he ran post haste to the shop of the\nclubmaker, screaming, \u201cBy gracious, gentlemen, the old man and the boy\nhave beat them off the green!\u201d\n\nThe artist Kay, who made the picture of him, went out on to the links\none day to draw it from the life unbeknown to the hero, and when he came\nto know about it afterwards he was sorely disappointed that he had not\nbeen given the opportunity of posing. \u201cWhat a pity!\u201d he lamented. \u201cBy\ngracious! If I had but known I would have shown him some of my capers!\u201d\nPerhaps it was as well he did not. When he won his match he would\nsometimes be so mad with joy that he would dance round the hole for a\nminute. Such delight was pure, for though he did wager a little on his\nmatches he did not risk more than he could well afford to lose, and it\nwas the game he tried to win and not the little that he bet. On Sundays,\nwhen there was no golf to be played, he fulfilled the duties of\ndoorkeeper to an Episcopalian church, and held the plate. Douglas\nGourlay, the famous ballmaker, one day put a ball into the plate by way\nof joke, guessing what would happen. He was right, M\u02bbKellar\u2019s golfing\ncupidity was too much for him. His eyes glistened, and in an instant the\nball was transferred to his pocket. Poor old M\u02bbKellar! Weak enough he\nmay have been, but he did love his game as absolutely nothing else in\nlife, which for him ended nearly a century since.\n\n\nII\n\nIt is an ancient game; but let no man think yet that we have realised a\nfair part of the curious situations that may arise on the links when the\ngolfer hits a ball, or that we have a full appreciation of the\npossibilities of their complexity. Very quaint are some of the\ndifficulties that twice a year are presented to the Rules of Golf\nCommittee sitting at St. Andrews for the special purpose of discovering\nsolutions thereto.\n\nFrom far Manawatu once there came a plaintive cry for help. These\nNew Zealand golfers confessed that in all the holes on their greens\nthere is an iron box with a small flag on the top to mark the holes. In\nan inter-club match the caddie of one of the players before leaving the\ngreen, when replacing the box, put it into the hole, flag downwards,\nexposing a sharp point on the top. One of the next two players, when\napproaching to that hole, landed his ball on the top of the box in the\nhole, and it remained there. Then the arguments began, and not until a\nletter had sailed the seas from the Antipodes, and the Royal and Ancient\nClub had sent her answer back to this outpost of her empire of golf, did\nthey subside. The man who had executed this wonderful shot had held that\nhe could reverse the box and put it into its proper position and claim\nthe hole. It hurt St. Andrews to think that away there in New Zealand,\nleft to their own resources, they should give themselves up to such\nqueer-fangled contrivances as hole flags with boxes on them. If a bit of\ncloth and a stick of sorts is good enough for the old course, why should\nManawatu want what these Royal and Ancients sarcastically referred to as\n\u201cmechanical contrivances\u201d? The high authority begged leave to observe\nthat the Rules of Golf did not provide for such \u201cmechanical\ncontrivances,\u201d and the New Zealanders were recommended to make local\nrules to suit them.\n\nYou may always tell from the form of the answer when the St. Andrews lip\nhas curled at the question that has been asked of it. Nowadays the\ncommittee can hear the mention of a hedge without a rise in its\ntemperature; but when the secretary, in reading out the problem of the\nmoment, has to say \u201cmud\u201d there is uneasiness still. The committee move\nin their chairs, they fidget, they scowl, somebody mutters \u201cTut, tut!\u201d\nand they all cough to hide their agitation. \u201cMud\u201d is the word you must\nnot say. I have not seen the committee in this agitation; nobody except\nits own members has, for it is a very private committee; but this sudden\ndisturbance can be imagined most clearly. Yet these inconsiderate\ngolfers will keep on mentioning mud, and St. Andrews answers them back\nwith as much asperity as is consistent with the preservation of its own\ndignity. One time in a matter of this kind they gave a snubbing to a\nKentish course. The club there, in all seriousness and innocence,\npropounded a very pretty point. \u201cPlaying in a foursome,\u201d they said, \u201cA\nis left by his partner\u2019s approach shot a six-inch putt for the hole; but\nA\u2019s ball pitched in a small piece of wet mud left on the edge of the\ngreen (presumably from the boot of a player in front). A small piece of\nthis mud clung to the ball, and was on the side of the ball A had to\nstrike. A played the stroke, and the ball and the mud stuck to his\nputter, and the head of the putter and the ball on it were exactly above\nthe hole.\u201d This was surely a most delightful situation! See how pretty\nis the combination of this foursome pair, and how they do play each the\ngame to suit the other, thus: \u201cHis partner then with his putter tapped\nthe ball off A\u2019s putter and it fell into the hole.\u201d A charming incident!\n\u201cDid A or his partner lose or halve the hole, and would A have been\nwithin his rights in shaking the ball off into the hole, or what should\nthey have done?\u201d Said the Committee to the secretary, \u201cTell these good\npeople that the Committee have no experience of such tenacious mud, and\nsuch a contingency should be provided for by the local rules,\u201d and then\nthey hurriedly spoke of the weather and the wind and the state of the\neighteenth green, and how the Major got a bonny 3 there the night\nbefore--anything to get this taste of Kentish mud out of their\nSt. Andrews mouths.\n\nA point of some curious interest was that which arose in the course of\nmedal play on the course of the Higher Bebington Club some time ago. A\nplayer had one of those most tantalising putts a yard in length to play,\nand, like many a man before him, he missed it! In his aggravation at the\ncircumstance he snatched back his ball, and, without having holed it\nout, he replaced it where it was before, in order to try his putt over\nagain, to satisfy his _amour propre_ that the holing of such a putt was\nnot beyond his mortal capacity. This is an old way of attempting to gain\nsome small crumb of satisfaction from a very disappointing business. At\nthe second attempt he holed that putt, but his partner then told him\nthat he was obliged to disqualify him from the entire competition for\nnot having holed out when making his putt. The competitor agreed that he\nhad done wrong, and accepted this fate; but some time later, when he had\nfully thought over the business, and read up the rules, he protested.\nYet his committee maintained that he really should be disqualified, and\nafter much argument the seers of the Royal and Ancient were begged to\ngive their decision. And it was a very interesting decision. The high\ncourt held that Rule 10 of stroke competitions applied, and that,\ntherefore, if the player replaced his ball directly behind the spot it\noccupied after he had missed the putt, the penalty was two strokes only,\nthe second putt thus counting as in the competition, though it is fairly\nclear that the competitor never intended it for it. \u201cBut,\u201d said the\ncommittee, \u201cotherwise he was disqualified.\u201d Those who discover feelings\nand frames of mind behind the mask of simple sentences would be moved to\nsay, in this case, that in that last simple sentence St. Andrews was\ntrying to cover up somewhat the absurd position to which the rules\nbrought this case; for it was clear that the essence of the problem in\nrelation to the law was as to whether the player replaced his ball\nbehind the spot where it first stopped, which came simply to this--Was\nhe short of the hole the first time, or did his ball run to either side?\nIf he was short, then he was saved, and he is allowed to go on under\npenalty of two strokes; but if he over-ran the hole--which from the golf\npoint of view was better than to be short--or if he went to either side,\nthen he would be disqualified. That ruling has grown since then.\n\nPity the club committees in their constant troubles. Was ever committee\nso sorely beset as that which had come, by devious means, to knowledge\nof the faults of its members, and when honour seemed to forbid that the\nknowledge should be acted upon, though otherwise would an injustice be\ndone to the sinless golfers. It was in County Sligo. A medal competition\nhad been played, and when all was over the members of the committee--as\nsuch high officers constantly solicitous for the welfare of things\nwill--wandered through the rooms and the corridors of the club. And it\ncame to pass that one of them overheard a conversation that he was not\nsupposed to overhear, between two members of the club, in which it was\nalleged that certain competitors had played on the putting greens before\nstarting. The committeeman knew then that these men should be\ndisqualified; but how was he to act? He told his colleagues, but they\nlikewise were sore in mind as to whether they were justified in taking\nnotice of the fact that had thus come to their knowledge. Were they\nbound to investigate this matter, and prove it one way or the other, or\nwas it sufficient if they waited for someone to lay a formal objection?\nIn their despair they appealed to St. Andrews; but this again is one of\nthe nice points that the chief authority would rather others settled for\nthemselves, and they said accordingly, that the committee must use their\nown discretion as to whether it was a case for their interference.\n\nUpon other occasions the committee at St. Andrews has been called upon\nto indicate the proper course of procedure when a ball, after being\nplayed, lodged in the turned-up part of a player\u2019s trousers. It has been\nsomewhat na\u00efvely asked by Kenmare whether, in a mixed foursome, when the\nlady missed the ball off the tee, she should \u201ctry\u201d again, or whether her\ngallant partner should rid the tee of that persistent ball. It had to\ntell the County Down Club that a player could not carry a special flat\nboard round with him from which to make his tee shots; and it has had to\nstraighten out some quite frightful mix-ups in ladies\u2019 competitions.\nSometimes it happens that some casual decision of this sort serves a\ngood purpose in bringing the portion of the golf world that has been\nsomewhat inclined to wander, back to its duty in the observance of the\nstrict letter of the law, as in the autumn of 1906, when on the appeal\nof Aldeburgh it declared how, when in long grass or anything of the\nkind, the player was only entitled to move so much of the obstruction as\nwould enable him to find his ball in the first instance, and was not\nentitled to arrange things so that he could see it while attempting to\nplay it. A player is not so entitled to a full view of his ball, though\nhe will sometimes tell you that he is.\n\n\nIII\n\nThat which was regarded by our ancestors as a most amazing feat, namely,\nholing with the tee shot, has become exceeding common. One week not long\nago it was done in five different parts of the country, and in three\nother separate weeks there were four cases reported. Why this increase,\nthen, of doing holes in 1? The reason is simple after all. It is not\nthat it is any easier to do the trick than it used to be. Probably it is\nrather harder, since it is more difficult to flop the rubber-cored ball\ndown plump on the green at the short holes than it used to be in the\ndays of the late lamented gutta, and a good deal harder to make it sink\ndown into the hole as it ought to do when it gets there, instead of\nrunning around it and then away, and generally behaving badly. If it\nwere any easier to do than it was formerly, would not the champions be\ndoing it? But they are not. Harry Vardon has still only one hole in 1 to\nhis credit, and while Braid gets his 2\u2019s very often, the 1\u2019s don\u2019t come\nhis way. The simple reason for the frequency is the great increase of\ngolf. Everybody plays golf now and is always playing, and in such\ncircumstances somebody must always be holing in 1, or very nearly. That\nis the simple fact, and the man who now performs this feat is no longer\nworthy of a paragraph all to himself in the morning newspaper. He will\nsimply go along with half a dozen others in the weekly list.\n\nStill there is room for distinction in holing in 1 yet, and the men who\ncrave for such notoriety need not despair. If every man can hole in 1,\nobviously the proper thing to do is to find some particular way of\ndoing it that every man cannot equal, or at least is not likely to do.\nFor example, J. S. Caird, the Newcastle-on-Tyne professional, was out\nplaying the other day, when in the course of his game he took the\nfifteenth in 1 in a very strange way. He popped his ball up into the air\nwith his mashie, and down it came plump into the hole, falling clean\ninto the tin and never bouncing out again! Fancy pitching into the hole\nin 1! Luckily the caddie was standing there and took out the flag in\ntime, and one cannot be surprised that he was so overcome with the\nstrangeness of the thing that happened, that his imagination was fired\nuntil he saw something of the supernatural in it, and believed that his\neyes had witnessed more than they really had. At all events, to the\nplayers and to the people afterwards he described in the most\ncircumstantial and convincing manner how the ball at one time seemed to\nbe flying far past the green, but how when just above him it came to a\nsudden stop in mid-air and then fell vertically into the hole! Why were\nwe not told the name of this ball?\n\nAnother advance on the simple feat of holing in one stroke is to do it\ntwice within a year. The first man to do this was Mr. L. Stuart\nAnderson, who took the tenth and fifteenth at Balgownie (Aberdeen) in 1\nin 1895. Since then I have heard of three other men having done it, one\nat Fort Anne, another at Bristol, and the third at Tunbridge Wells.\nMr. Anderson, by the way, who is now the secretary of the Royal Portrush\nClub, holds the record for the greatest number of times that one man has\ndone a hole in 1; and here again is another suggestion to the ambitious\none-stroke man. Mr. Anderson has done it seven times. He began by doing\nit at the expense of his sister, Miss Blanche, at North Berwick, which\nperhaps did not matter much, as sisters are indulgent, and wound up for\nthe time being by doing it (the seventh at Tavistock) in the presence of\nand in a match against a parson, which, to say the least, was\nindelicate. I have heard of a lady who has done this thing four times.\nAnother out-of-the-way feat is to hole in 1 just when you hear that\nsomeone else has done so. One April evening, when the course at Heaton\nMoor had not the appearance of stirring events happening upon it, such\nas would go down into history as records, two of the members of the\nclub, not playing together, did two different holes in 1 each. At\nChristmas time in 1899 a most remarkable feat was performed by Mr. P. H.\nMorton, celebrated in his day as a Cambridge bowler, who took the first\nhole on the Meyrick course at Bournemouth twice in one day, morning and\nafternoon, with his shot from the tee. It is a better achievement than\nusual to take a tolerably long hole in one stroke, and, in this class,\nhonours at present are with Mr. J. F. Anderson, who with a wind behind\nhim and playing on a frost-bound course got the ninth at St. Andrews in\na single shot, and the ninth measures 277 yards. It must be accounted\nexcellent also to do the trick one-handed, as did an amateur with the\npromising name of Willie Park when playing to the eleventh on the relief\ncourse at Troon. Mr. Park had to do it with one arm or not at all, for\nhe has only one, and he was certainly to be congratulated on the fact of\nhis unfortunate state not preventing him from graduating as a\nhole-in-oner.\n\nMen who seem to have an abnormal sense of humour say that it is killing\nto do a hole in 1 when the other man is giving you a stroke. The other\nman has then to do it in nothing to halve, or 1 less than nothing to\nwin, and the situation is delightful. I have authentic information of\nthis situation having arisen, and it was rendered all the more\ninteresting from the circumstance that the man giving the stroke was an\nOpen Champion, and the other party was a lady. It was at the twelfth\nhole at Walton Heath, and one need not hesitate to say that the man who\nwas giving the stroke was James Braid, who thought awhile on the wonders\nof this most interesting world, and then took a short cut to the next\ntee without troubling to play the short hole.\n\nConcerning the coincidence connected with the name of Park, just\nnoticed, it may have been perceived that two of our greatest heroes in\nthese matters are of the name of Anderson. This coincidence can be\ncarried a long step farther, for perhaps the most valuable hole in 1\never gained was by another Anderson, and that was Jamie, the champion.\nHe was playing for the championship at Prestwick and making his last\nround. He knew he was very close up, and that he had nothing to spare.\nHe was playing the next to the last hole on the course as it used to\nbe--not as it is--and was just about to hit his tee shot when a girl\nstanding close by remarked to her father that the player had teed his\nball outside the teeing ground, and that accordingly, if he played his\nshot from there, he would be disqualified altogether. Jamie heard,\nlooked, and quietly removed his ball and placed it within the limited\nspace. Then he made his shot and holed out in 1, and very properly he\nraised his cap to the little girl and said, \u201cThank you, miss!\u201d for she\nhad done him a very good turn indeed. A few minutes later he was in\npossession of the Championship Cup. That was in 1878. It is clear that\nthe Andersons are the men who do the holes in 1, particularly as another\nof them, Mr. W. W. Anderson, once in 1893 worked most gradually and\nsystematically up to a hole in 1 at North Berwick by taking the fourth\nin 3, the fifth in 2, and the sixth in the minimum 1. One in 1 and three\nin 6!\n\nThe worst of these tricks is that you don\u2019t get anything for doing\nthem; you must pay instead. The injustice of this arrangement has been\nborne in to many minds, notably to that of Mr. Balfour. The right\nhonourable gentleman has never holed in 1, but he has done a hole in\ntwo strokes when he received a stroke from his opponent at it, and his\ncaddie ingeniously argued with him that this was exactly the same\nthing--2 \u2212 1 = 1. It was Point Garry out at North Berwick, and\nMr. Balfour was playing with Tom Dunn. \u201cI am astonished!\u201d said\nMr. Balfour, pretending that he was. \u201cAm I to pay you for looking at me\ndoing this? Should I not rather receive the money for performing the\nfeat?\u201d But he paid.\n\nThere is one hole in the world where you do get paid for achieving a 1,\nthat is if you happen to do it at either the Easter, Whitsuntide, or\nAutumn meetings. This is what is called the \u201cIsland Hole\u201d on the course\nof the Royal Ashdown Forest Club in Sussex. It is an excellent hole, and\na gentleman who played it on one occasion fell so much in love with it\nthat he endowed it with a sum of \u00a35, the accumulated interest on the sum\nto go to the competitor at any of the meetings named who should do this\ntrick of getting it in 1. Ever since the endowment was made the interest\nhas been growing and growing, and nobody has qualified for it. Money\naccumulates so fast once it gets a fair start, that we can imagine this\ninterest some day amounting to a fortune, and then what a scene there\nwill be at the Island Hole at Easter when the golfer, having been\ntraining at the Redan, the Maiden, and a few like holes for a whole\nmonth previously, comes here with weird clubs and balls made of lead,\nand has greed written in large characters across his face.\n\nThe moral of the hole in 1 is excellently stated by a great master of\nthe game. It demands not only a perfect shot but a perfect fluke. It is\na case of the gods giving to them that have, and those that have not are\ncast into the bunker in front of the green.\n\n\nIV\n\nCurious, indeed, are some items in the list of the feats of golf. In the\ngame heroic there is testimony to the pluck, perseverance, and\nenthusiasm of Mr. J. W. Spalding, who in the spring of a recent season\ncame by an awful motor smash in France and lost an eye, but had no\nsooner risen from the hospital bed and been sent to Italy to recuperate\nthan he was at his golf again, playing himself back with his single eye\nto the game of scratch quality that he enjoyed before, and--good for\nyou, Mr. Spalding--but a few weeks went by ere one more scratch medal\ncame his way. Nor shall we forget how a popular champion struggled home\nto the seventy-second green at Prestwick while the blood was oozing from\nhis lungs.\n\nThere are feats of other kinds, as those which count as freaks, poor\nthings enough but wondered at by some. What shall we say of the\nPittsburg golfer who wagered four thousand dollars that he could play a\nball over four and a half miles of the city streets in one hundred and\nfifty strokes? Beginning at five o\u2019clock in the morning, he did this\nthing in one hundred and nineteen strokes, but lost a thousand dollars\nin damage done to property on the way. That man found an emulator in\nLondon who undertook to play a ball from Ludgate Circus to a fountain\nbasin in Trafalgar Square. There are men who like to drive fine balls\nfrom the glass faces of other people\u2019s expensive watches, and others who\nprefer the tamer sport of driving from the eggs of hens. There was the\nman of Sandwich, who, with a champagne bottle as his only \u201cclub,\u201d\nplayed, and--Oh, shame upon it!--beat a neophyte who carried a full bag\nof the most improved clubs. There was the old-time golfer who lofted\nballs over the spire of St. Giles\u2019 Cathedral in Edinburgh, and another\nwho tooled his gutty from Bruntsfield Links to the top of Arthur\u2019s Seat.\nBetter and more purposeful was the practice which Mr. Laidlay used to\nundertake before championships, when, with Jack White for caddie, he\nwould play a ball from the first tee at North Berwick to the Roundell\nHole at Gullane, six miles away, by way of the Eel Burn Hole, the sands\nalong the shore, the neighbourhood of the fishermen\u2019s cottages, and\naway over Muirfield and the rough country to the top of the hill,\nplaying from whatever lie his ball chanced to find, and once doing this\ncourse in a total of ninety-seven strokes.\n\n\nV\n\nDo we not sometimes hear one sort of sportsmen make it a complaint\nagainst golf, that the player does not run any personal risk of injury\nto his life or his limbs? Some of these men will tell you that you only\narrive at real sport when such dangers are incurred. It may be so, but\nwe shall not on that account seek to increase the risks of golf. It is\none of the glories of the game that it is such fine sport and commands\nthe wild enthusiasm of the best sportsmen, though it threatens the life\nneither of the player nor any of the living creatures made by God that\ngive the fulness to Nature, and add, though it may be unconsciously, to\nthe golfer\u2019s joy as he strides over the links on a fine morning. In\nother sports, when man goes wandering over the hills, he takes his gun\nwith him that he may kill something. Leave him alone with Nature, and as\nthe lord of creation he is impelled to go forward to the attack on the\nlesser beings. In golf alone does he roam over the country and by the\nside of the sea with never a thought of what he may kill passing through\nhis mind. He has a great joy in his own life, and he is all benevolence\nand wishful for the happy life of others.\n\nThings have been killed--accidentally--at golf. Many luckless birds have\ngot in the way of tee shots, and even a fish lost its life on a golf\ncourse, and is now in a glass case in the clubhouse at Totteridge. By\nsome devious means it got on to the course one day when there had been\nheavy rains and much overflowing all about. And--let it be whispered to\nthe shooters and the mighty hunters!--men have been maimed, and even\nkilled on golf links, though we pray that, despite the extra sport,\nthere may be no more of them, and that the single pain of the game may\nbe the skin-blisters and corns that sometimes will come up at the bottom\nof the left forefinger and elsewhere. I did not think better of golf as\na sport when one day, in playing my way outwards on the North Berwick\nlinks, a ball from a hidden tee came upon me unawares and carried the\npipe that I was smoking away with it for some twenty or thirty yards,\nwhile I stood to wonder what was happening. And even by his own deeds\nmay a man court perils, for we heard the other day that one was playing\nat Ravenscar when he took a full mashie shot with the object of clearing\na stone wall; but the ball struck the wall and rebounded with great\nforce against his head. And from his head it rebounded again over the\nwall, so it was said; and it was not astonishing to hear that the player\nwas slightly stunned! If adventure in the form of fierce conflict with\nwild beasts and reptiles is what the full-blooded sportsman wishes, he\nmay have it. A member of the Royal Sydney Club played his ball down a\nhole, and he put his hand down it to see if he could recover the ball.\nHe seized hold of something soft and drew out a venomous brown\nsnake--which he hurriedly pushed back. I am told by my golfing directory\nthat at Umtala, in Rhodesia, \u201cthe course consists of nine holes. In\naddition to other hazards, lions are occasionally in evidence.\u201d I happen\nto have had some private confirmation of this report, and it is told me\nthat if ever a golfer in Umtala indulged himself in such a freak as golf\nby candlelight, as players have been known to do elsewhere, he might not\ncomplete the game that he had projected, for the king of beasts is\naccustomed to prowl over the land at night, and picks up any little\nliving thing that he may find about. In other respects there is\nsomething quaint about this golf at Umtala, for I am informed that in\nthe daytime the course is frequented by crows with white bands round\ntheir necks, which go by the name of \u201cFree Kirk Ministers.\u201d They are\nthieves, and now and again they swoop down and fly away again with the\nball.\n\nThey are fine pioneers of the game in South Africa, and it deserves to\nprosper there. They have needed strong hearts and much patience and\nforbearance. I have been to golf with a man who has lately come back\nfrom a short visit there, and he says that their \u201cgreens\u201d look as if\nthey were covered with millions of garnets; and poor as the putting may\nbe from some points of view, it can be performed with marvellous\naccuracy, and the people of the Colonies deny that anybody loves the\ngame more than they do, or is more enthusiastic in it than they are.\nTheir trials are uncommon and severe, but they become accustomed to\nthem. At Wynberg, or some place like that, there is a lake to carry at a\nshort hole, and one knows what sometimes happens when there is a water\nhazard between the tee and the green, one shot away. Here the avoidance\nof it is not made any the easier, because a long line of Kaffir boys is\nformed up on the near side of the lake, stripped, with eyes aflame with\neagerness, and wildly gesticulating with their arms and hands, and\njostling and scolding at each other while they seem to be appealing \u201cMe!\nme! me!\u201d to the golfer on the tee. Away the ball goes from the tee, and\nat the slightest indication that it was struck with dangerous\ninaccuracy, splash go all the Kaffir boys into the water. It is very\nmuch like the game of throwing sixpences overboard when your ship of\nvoyage is at anchor off some Eastern port.\n\n\nVI\n\nRummaging through a second-hand book shop in Oxford Street one day, I\ncame upon an old volume of sporting anecdotes published far back in\n1867, and long since out of print and forgotten. Turning over the pages\nin the evening, and encountering therein many stories of doughty deeds\nby river and on field and moor, I came at last upon what must evidently\nbe the original version of the story which has been more briefly told by\nothers of the golf match at night for \u00a3500 a hole, and I cannot do\nbetter than quote it direct from the book. One of the contributors was\nquoting from a letter he had received from a well-known sporting friend\nof his, in which this gentleman gave him a short description of golf,\nabout which nobody else belonging to the book appeared to know anything.\nIn his prefatory remarks concerning the game the correspondent said:\n\u201cThe game of golf is quite a Scotch game; it is played at Blackheath,\nWimbledon Common, and a few other places in England; but the players are\nalways Scotchmen. It is a game requiring a good eye and great skill;\nand people who get over the first difficulties of the game are generally\nquite as fond of it as the English are of cricket.\u201d With no\ndisparagement of the attractions of cricket, one would be inclined to\nsay that in these days the English who get over the first difficulties\nof the game of golf, and even those unfortunates who do not get over\nthose difficulties, are much fonder of it than the said English are of\ncricket.\n\nThen, concerning that great match, the correspondent writes: \u201cLord\nKennedy and the late Mr. Cruickshank, of Langley Park, were good\nplayers, and had frequent matches for large sums of money; but the most\nremarkable match ever played by them came off during the Montrose race\nweek many years since. At the race ordinary they got up a match of three\nholes, for \u00a3500 each hole, and agreed to play it then and there. It was\nabout ten or half-past ten p.m. and quite dark. No light was allowed\nexcept one lantern placed on the hole, and another carried by the\nattendant of the player, in order that they might ascertain to whom the\nball struck belonged. We all moved down to the golf course to see this\ncurious match. Boys were placed along the course, who were accustomed to\nthe game, to listen to the flight of the balls, and to run to the spot\nwhere a ball struck and rested on the ground. I do not remember which of\nthe players won the odd hole; it was won, I know, by only one hole. But\nthe most remarkable part of the match was, that they made out their\nholes with much about the same number of strokes that they usually did\nwhen playing in daylight. I think, on an average, that they took about\nfive or six strokes in daylight, and in the dark six or seven. They\nwere, however, in the constant habit of playing over the Montrose\ncourse.\u201d Surely this must be accounted one of the most extraordinary\ngames of golf we have heard of.\n\n\nVII\n\nIn days gone by the position of the lady in the great world of golf was\nsomething of a doubtful quantity, but there can be no question that she\nis now an established institution, and that she will stay. There have\nbeen men who have said that golf is not a lady\u2019s game, and many who\nstill stoutly maintain that it is at all events only a game for very\nyoung ladies who have not taken upon themselves any serious domestic\ncares. But it makes little difference what they say. For the first time\nin history a married lady won the Ladies\u2019 Championship in 1906. The\nladies have a golf union of their own, which is the kind of thing that a\nlarge section of rebellious men have been sighing for for many years,\nbut are apparently still far from getting. Moreover, they have an\ninter-county championship, which again is what men say they ought to\nhave, but cannot get.\n\nSome of the oldest but least common golf traditions have reference to\nwomen, and it seems to be the fact that one of the first monarchs in\nEngland or Scotland who ever sought pleasure and relaxation in trundling\na golf ball over the links was Mary Queen of Scots, and that she played\non golfing ground no less celebrated than St. Andrews. This was in 1563.\nDuring that winter Mary occupied a house in South Street, and it is\ngenerally believed that she yielded to the spell of the place and played\ngolf on the links with Chastelard, the favourite, who was subsequently\nbeheaded. Although the evidence that she did thus play at St. Andrews is\nnot conclusive, it is very likely that she did so, for it is quite\ncertain that she played at Edinburgh and elsewhere, and it is variously\nquoted as a specimen of her heartlessness on the one hand and of her\nenthusiasm for the game on the other, that she was found playing it only\na few days after the murder of her husband.\n\nIt is suggested that the golfing ancestors of the present lady players\nwere fish girls, and the evidence on the point is comprised in a minute\nof the Royal Musselburgh Golf Club, dated 14th December 1810, which\nreads thus: \u201cThe club to present by subscription a handsome new creel\nand shawl to the best Female Golfer who plays on the annual occasion on\n1st January next, old style (12th January, new), to be intimated to the\nFish Ladies by William Robertson, the officer of the club. Two of the\nbest Barcelona silk handkerchiefs to be added to the above premium of\nthe creel.--(Signed) ALEX. G. HUNTER, Captain.\u201d\n\nBut the modern golfing ladies absolutely ignore all this ancient\nhistory, and, in a manner, started afresh with a Year 1 on the inception\nof their championship, like the French people did at the time of their\nbig Revolution. What happened before did not count. Thus, from their\npoint of view, they arrived at a sort of millennium straight away,\nhaving no brakes of custom and conservatism on their wheel of progress.\n\nConsequently it is no business of the modern writer to argue as to\nwhether the fair sex ought or ought not to play golf; the fact is there\nthat they do, and that more of them do so every week. And they do it\nvery whole-heartedly. In the box-rooms of the houses of golfing ladies\nare sundry old tennis racquets with their stringing limp, despised and\nrejected, and their once favourite croquet mallets have been cut down in\nthe shaft and are now used for odd jobs of carpentering about the house.\nIt is said that the golfing girl does not care a jot what she wears on\nthe links or--_mirabile dictu!_--what she looks like, so long as she has\nboots or shoes on with which she can get a firm stance, or upper\narrangements which enable her to swing with ease. Thus one hears that\nshe has enormous nails in her footgear, wears the loosest of Irish\nhomespun costumes, and wouldn\u2019t be seen in a picture hat. And she is a\nfine, robust, healthy creature, who loves the game as much as anyone.\nThe great professionals say that she is a splendid pupil--better even\nthan the men. Harry Vardon holds that the American ladies--whom he has\nstudied on their native links--are better and more thorough than ours;\nbut he thinks that ours are very good when they roll up their sleeves\nand give up the big hats. \u201cThey seem (ladies in general, that is) to\ntake closer and deeper notice of the hints you give them, and to retain\nthe points of the lesson longer in their memories,\u201d says Vardon, and\nJames Braid concurs in the judgment. The only drawback to all this big\nhitting, hard tramping, and devil-may-care spirit of the girl on the\nlinks is that, according to Miss May Hezlet, one of the queens of the\nlinks, it enlarges the hands and feet! But think of the freedom!\n\nWhen the ladies play among themselves--as they generally do--they\nemploy, according to report, a golfing vocabulary of their own, which,\nthough unconventional, let it be said in haste, is quite proper.\nElsewhere than in happy England, the blessedness of whose sporting girls\nhas been sung by Gilbert of the Savoy, it may not be the same; indeed it\nappeared in the newspapers a little while since that the minister of a\nfashionable church in Halifax, Nova Scotia, declared from his pulpit one\nSunday that information had reached him that \u201cwomen who went to church\non Sunday, went to golf on Monday and swore like troopers!\u201d When this\nwas brought to the attention of the English ladies, they said that the\ninformation that had been given to the reverend gentleman was very\nlikely true, as those ladies probably played such a very bad game. In\nEngland there was no occasion to make use of such expletives as were\nsuggested, and a \u201cDash!\u201d and \u201cOh, you naughty, _naughty_ little ball\u201d\nwere generally found sufficient to meet the exigencies of the most\ntrying situations. At one time there seemed to be some considerable\nrivalry and jealousy, quite characteristically feminine, between the\nBritish and American lady golfers. But Miss Rhona Adair as was went over\nto the States and won all her matches, the strain of the\neffort--believing that she really had the credit of her country at\nstake--being, so it was authoritatively said, largely responsible for\nthe breakdown in her health that ensued. Then the Americans sent over a\nbig team of ladies to try to capture our Ladies\u2019 Championship with one\nof them. The battlefield was at Cromer, and such a scene was there as\none by one the American flags were hauled down! At the end of the\nmeeting the British lioness held undisputed possession of the field, and\nshe placed the Cup on her tea table.\n\n\nVIII\n\nPerhaps there is more to be said for keeping one\u2019s score for the round\nwhen playing a match than is allowed by many people who occasionally\ndiscuss this matter with some heat. It may be agreed at once that the\ngolfer who consistently subordinates the importance and interest of his\nmatch to his anxiety regarding his aggregate score is to be condemned,\nand more than ever so when his reckoning of his figures is done openly\nand audibly, and when he is guilty of remarking, for example, a\nsplendidly fought match being all square at the eighteenth tee, that he\nhas a 4 left for 79, showing in what direction his strongest ambition\nlies for the time being. Such a person is an undesirable opponent, and a\nnuisance on the links. In match play the match is the thing, and those\nwho do not want the match, but only the score, should go out alone with\ntheir caddies. Yet at the same time it must be remembered that a man\u2019s\nscores for the round are often the only real indication that can be\nafforded him of knowing what exactly is his form for the time being, and\nhow well or badly he is playing, and it is eminently desirable that he\nshould from time to time be posted with this knowledge, which in either\ncase should act as an incentive towards the improvement of his game. A\nman may be winning all his matches with two or three holes to spare, and\nif he is of a placid temperament and not given to any closely\ndiscriminating analysis of the details of his own game, he may often be\nliving in a fool\u2019s paradise with regard to the quality of his golf and\nthe accuracy of his handicap. It may be true that handicaps are provided\nchiefly for match-play purposes, and that if a man can win half his\nmatches with the handicap that is given him, there is not much cause for\nfault-finding; but, after all, handicaps are supposed to represent the\nrelative strengths of all players, even though they do not, and it is\nreasonable to expect that the holder of a certain handicap should be\nable to go round his course, say, one time in three or four at a net\nscore that would come out at par. One must doubt whether the average\nseven or eight handicap man does this, which, of course, leads to the\nusual conclusion that the general tendency in medium handicaps in these\ndays is to make them too flattering.\n\nAnd, again, when a player finds himself winning his match with so much\nease that the match itself has really very little interest for him, if\nany at all, when he is playing well and his opponent\u2019s game has gone\ncompletely to the dogs, it is surely pardonable for him to concentrate\nhis chief attention upon his score for the round, so long as he does not\ndo it obtrusively, and does nothing to indicate to his opponent that he\nhas other things in mind besides the question as to whether he shall\nachieve victory at the twelfth or thirteenth hole. It is simply a matter\nof common sense and good manners, and all scores should be kept\nmentally, and should not be spoken of until the round is over. The\nkeeping of a score will often urge a man to greater effort and the\ndisplay of greater skill in a particular emergency, and will thus tend\nto the improvement of his game. Nearly all players of great skill and\nlong experience agree that there is nothing in the world like much score\nplay for the betterment of the golfer. It strengthens the sense of\nresponsibility, and of the need for the utmost concentration of thought\nand effort upon every shot that is made, and when a golfer has taught\nhimself to do this he has gone a long way towards the achievement of\nthat severe self-discipline which is an essential characteristic of the\ngood and sound player whose game has always to be feared. It is because\nthey have not that self-discipline and have not cultivated that sense of\nresponsibility, that the majority of amateurs are absolutely terrorised\nby a card and rendered incapable even of playing anything like their\nreal game. They do not so much fear to make a bad shot when it will only\nmean a lost hole, which may be won back five minutes later; but it is a\ndifferent thing when the bad shot may cost three strokes, which have to\nenter into the final reckoning. Yet the bad shot is equally bad in\neither case and ought to be equally regretted, but is not. And if an\namateur does not keep some mental account of his score when engaged in\nmatches, he has scarcely any other opportunity of practising medal play,\nsince it is not customary and is not desirable that pairs should go out\ntogether matched with each other on the strokes for the round and not on\nholes.\n\nApart from the objections which have been urged against it, and which it\nhas been suggested may not be quite so well founded as some people\nappear to think, one is inclined to fancy that in many cases one of the\ndrawbacks to the continual counting of one\u2019s score is the inclination\nthat is bred in the player to self-deception, and in the course of our\ngolf we come across many curious instances of it. The simplest and most\nfrequent is the waiving of the lost stroke for a stymie. If the\nplayer\u2019s ball is within two feet of the hole when the stymie is laid\nhim, it may be legitimate enough for him to reckon that if he had been\nengaged in pure score play he would have holed the putt that he was in\nthe actual circumstances unable to hole, and therefore to deduct a\nstroke from the actual number taken on the round. But in the weakness of\ntheir human nature many who are thus engaged in score counting go much\nfarther than this in giving themselves the benefits of doubts. It is\ndifficult or impossible for them to draw any line between that which it\nwas very likely they would do and that which they might possibly do. If\nfor the purposes of their score they give themselves the two-feet putt\nwhich they would have holed but for the stymie, then surely there can be\nno objection to giving themselves a thirty-inch putt, and if that, then\none also at a yard, and a yard and a half--two yards, three yards, four.\nAnd, pursuing this process of self-cheating, you will find the golfer\nsubmitting it to himself that he may count it as one stroke to get down,\nwhen he is fifteen or twenty feet from the hole, on the reasoning that\nmany a time in his life before he had holed such putts, and was certain\nto do so again, so why not this time?\n\nThis is but one of the many frauds that players are brought to practise\nupon themselves in their yearning for a good round. Have we not known\nthem to give themselves a four or five feet putt when their opponents\nhad already given up the hole, because, though they had the time and\nopportunity for making the stroke, they were afraid that they might miss\nit, and so spoil that nice score which they were building up? They say\nto themselves that if they did putt it they would be certain to succeed,\nso what matter. And worse still is the case of the man who goes up to\nhis ball in such a circumstance and putts at it, perhaps with one hand,\npretending to himself that he is not trying! Yet if the ball goes in he\nfeels a wholesome satisfaction of having done his duty by his card; and\nif it does not go in he still counts it as having done so, because it\nwould have done if he had tried properly. There is also the case of the\nother man who, having missed such a putt by half an inch, perhaps\nunluckily, makes a bargain with himself that if he can do that putt\nimmediately and successfully four times one after the other, he will\ncount it to him after all, having thus proved that it was well within\nthe scope of his ability, and that his first failure was an accident and\nnot likely to occur again. And I have heard of men who, counting their\nscores, and having obtained a lie of most exceptional badness after a\ngood shot, have declined to include in their mental reckoning the\nfruitless stroke that followed, on the ground that the chances of their\ngetting such a lie in a medal round were a thousand to one against!\n\nStrangest case of all, I once played with a man who told me at the end\nof his round what a good score he had done, and proceeded to detail the\nfigures 4 5 5 3, etc. \u201cBut,\u201d I said, \u201cyou were in the bunker at the\nfirst hole and took 6.\u201d \u201cYes,\u201d he said, \u201cbut in counting my score I\nalways give myself a 4 at the first hole, no matter what I take;\nbecause, don\u2019t you see, if I were out to make the best return possible,\nas if trying to break a record, I could play the first hole two or three\ntimes, if necessary, until I got my par 4, and then go on with that\nround. I would be giving up the round each time when I failed, and\nstarting a fresh round; so, you see, the 4 at the first is always\ncertain, and so I always count it, whatever I do.\u201d I saw,\n\n   \u201cOh, what a tangled web we weave\n    When first we practise to deceive,\u201d\n\neven to deceive ourselves.\n\nThus does this score counting and this yearning for one\u2019s record round\nbreed a moral cowardice in such men. There is only one score to count,\nand that is the one which would be passed according to the rules of\nstroke play. If golfers must count scores they must be just to\nthemselves, and they must not even temper their justice with any mercy,\nfor the laws of golf are inexorable, and in them there is no mercy.\n\n\nIX\n\nThere are many who hold that the most exasperating opponent of all is he\nwho is afflicted with an amazing indecision when about to make his very\nshortest putts. For a minute he will stand with his putter to the ball\nas if in abject fear of his fate, and surely at such a time there are\nstrange fancies flying through his brain. They must be like the fancies\nof a drowning man. It was agreed among a company of his friends that\nthese must be the jerky thoughts of such a man whom they well know when\nhe was engaged gloomily upon the dreaded task of putting a ball that lay\neighteen inches from the hole, the little patch of putting green that\nintervened being perfectly smooth and level:--\n\n    This is a very simple job,\n    And when I have holed the ball\n    I shall be certain of my half-crown.\n    Still, I must be careful. It is very easy to miss these short putts;\n    And I have missed many thousands, costing me\n    Many pounds--scores of pounds.\n    And now that I am up against it,\n    And looking at this putt,\n    It does not seem quite so easy as it did at first.\n    It will require most careful management--a most delicate tap,\n    And very accurate gauging of strength.\n    One needs to be very cool and deliberate over these things.\n    One\u2019s nerves, and stomach, and liver must be in prime condition.\n    I wish I had not been out to dinner last night.\n    Was it Willie Park or Ben Sayers\n    Who said that the man who could putt could beat anybody?\n    I believe him--Willie or Ben.\n    This is really a most awkward putt.\n    The green looks slower than the others. It is very rough.\n    Why don\u2019t the committee sack the greenkeeper,\n    Who ought to be a market gardener?\n    It is like a bunker between\n    My ball and the hole. Such very rough stuff.\n    One, two, three--six--nine--why!\n    There are eleven big blades of grass\n    Sticking up like the rushes at Westward Ho!\n    The grass becomes so very stiff and wiry in this very hot weather.\n    (Yes, it is too hot to putt properly.)\n    My ball will never break through this grass.\n    It is one of the hardest putts I have ever seen,\n    I wish I had more loft on my putter.\n    I _was_ an ass not to bring that other one out from my locker,\n    Where it is eating its head off (so to speak).\n    I think, also, that a little cut would do this putt a lot of good.\n    But how? The green slopes from the left;\n    Yet it seemed to slope from the right.\n    Also, it goes downwards to the hole.\n    This is a perfect devil of a putt!\n    I know my stance for putting is not good,\n    But Harry Vardon says that every man has his own stance,\n    So perhaps it is all right.\n    But I had better move my left foot; it seems in the way.\n    I see that two--four--six--seven of the pimples on this ball\n    Are quite flat.\n    Nobody can putt with a ball like that.\n    A man ought to be allowed to change his ball\n    Even on the green at times like this.\n    I must allow for those pimples.\n    Confound that fellow Brown!\n    He seems to be waiting.\n    And he is smoking his dirty shag so much\n    That I can hardly see the hole for smoke.\n    If I lose this hole I shall lose the match.\n    I am quite with Johnny Low in his new idea for handicapping,\n    When he says some of us should be allowed to play\n    Our bad shots over again.\n    In that case I would have one good smack at this ball\n    To get the strength and the hang of\n    Everything. And I am certain--yes, I am quite absolutely certain--\n    That I would hole the ball next time.\n    However, what does it matter?\n    Better men then I have missed such putts,\n    And I am not a chicken--live a hard life--lot of work--\n    Office to-night--awful day to-morrow.\n    And as the wife was saying--\n    Let me see. Oh! hang this putt!\n    He can have his half-crown if he wants it,\n    But I am going to have one good smack\n    At this ball. Now--\n    No, that was wrong. Now, yes, yes--\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    My godfathers!\n    And my godmothers!\n    I have missed that putt again!\n\n            [_When the ball came to a standstill it was just an inch and\n               a half short of the hole, and considerably to the left of\n               the proper line to the middle._]\n\n\nX\n\nSome of those cantankerous people who have no sympathy with games, and\nbut a limited confidence in the wise precept that the healthy mind is\nmost frequently to be found in association with the healthy\nbody--practical people they like to call themselves--will sometimes ask\nyou what is the good of golf. It is generally useless to attempt to\nhumour them by advancing the proposition that it returns a dividend of\nfifty per cent. in mental and physical efficiency, and seventy-five in\nthe general happiness of the subject.\n\nWhat are really the least convincing examples of the practical value of\ngolf are the most effective in argument against such folks. With them it\nmay count a word in favour of the game that a man once playing it found\nthat his ball from a full drive came to rest on a sixpence which had\nevidently dropped through a hole in the pocket of a previous player.\nHere, indeed, was a material practical gain! They will be impressed also\nwith the possibilities of the game when they are told a little story of\nhow a man, who was not in quest of art treasures at the time, discovered\nan old master accidentally, and entirely through the medium of his golf.\nIt was in this way. A Montreal art dealer was playing the game on a\ncountry course one day in 1903, when he sliced a ball so badly that away\nit went through the window of a cottage hard by. Thereupon there came\nout from it an old lady, a French Canadian, who was possessed of\nremarkable power of speech, of which the golfer was given much\nevidence. Presently, when her attack was somewhat exhausted, the poor\ngolfer offered to recompense her for the damage done to the window; but\nthen it was put to him that the broken glass was not the only casualty.\nThe ball, after passing through the window, had continued its course of\ndestruction by breaking the glass that covered the picture; and without\nmaking any examination of the nature of this damage the player agreed\nthat he would give a matter of a pound for the picture besides paying\nfor the broken window. This soothed the feelings of the lady of the\ncottage, and she pressed upon him the picture, for the damage to which\nhe had paid so handsomely. He took it away with him, and at home in the\nevening he was led in a spirit of curiosity to make some examination of\nit, when, to his astonishment, he discovered that it was a Dutch\ninterior by Teniers, which he sold a few days later for \u00a3500. To the\ncredit of this golfer be it said, he sent a cheque for half the amount\nto the cottager. This is an excellent story to tell to the absurd and\npractical people, and a true one.\n\nIt might be of service to add to it an account of a shot that was played\non one occasion by a gentleman of no less scientific importance than\nProfessor John Milne, who is known as a great seismologist, the man who\nis most in evidence when earthquakes are troubling. When the earth is\nstill the Professor will leave his instruments in the Isle of Wight to\ntheir own care for a period, and he will wander away to the links for\nsome golf. To what great feat has the golf of this professor led him?\nWhy, he of all men became the first to drive a golf ball across the\nVictoria Falls on the Zambesi River--a hundred and sixty yards of\nroaring, foaming water. That was when the British Association went for\nits annual meeting to South Africa, and Professor Sims Woodhead, the\ncelebrated Cambridge pathologist, was so much impressed by the\nachievement, that he too attempted to drive the Zambesi, and succeeded.\nBut these are the things that may be done by Professors once, and not\nalways. Two more balls were teed on the bank, and the Professors smote\nthem with their clubs, but those balls were claimed by the Zambesi, and\nperchance they have been digested by the crocodiles. Now here you have\nsomething done by golf which was not golf, but which marked the advance\nof civilisation into the dark regions of the African continent. Our\npractical friends must allow this to the credit of the game, not only\nfor the achievement in itself, but for the possibilities that it\nsuggests, for is not a picture at once conjured up of the resourceful\ngolfer driving a ball from the shore to a sinking ship, when all other\nmeans of establishing communication therewith had failed? To the ball\nthere will be tied a silken thread, and the thread will help a string\nacross, and the string will drag a rope. Thus must we plead for golf!\n\nWhile in these serious aspects of the battle of life the game is thus to\ncome to our aid, it shall be of similar service also in the gentler\npaths. Once upon a time a maker of golf balls told me how he had\nsuspected a rival of putting cores from old balls made by him A into all\nso-called new ones made by the rival B. Therefore A for a little while\nwound a tiny piece of tissue paper with the rubber of his cores, and on\nthe paper there was written A\u2019s name and address. Some time later the\ntissues came home again through the medium of the balls that bore the\nname of B. There was this damning evidence of the pilfering of the\ncores. This story is not told as a hint to the trade, but surely it will\nconvey one to ingenious persons who wish for a mode of secret\ncommunication with others which will be sure and safe. May it not be\nthat some Romeo of to-day has already come by the device of lofting a\nball or two on to the balcony of the fair Juliet, who in the seclusion\nof her chamber may be discovered in operation upon the cover with\nhair-pins and fire-irons, and presently in raptures upon the endearments\nexpressed in the _billet doux_ of her Romeo?\n\nPerhaps it will not avail us as golfers to tell our practical friends\nthat the principles of the application of physical force which have been\ntaught us in the game, as of the steady body, the fixed centre of\nmovement, and of the hand being under the constant leadership of the\neye, have benefited us not merely in the playing of other games, such as\nbilliards and tennis, but in the attainment of greater proficiency in\nsome of the most practical and useful of domestic occupations, so that\nthe man of all others who may be depended upon to hang up the pictures\nin a new house as pictures should be hanged, is the golfer who has got\nhis handicap down to 6. We will tell also to the critic of our game that\nit affords a scope for a kind of humour that is of occasional service to\nsome wits and others. It helps them to raise a laugh over the tea-cups\nwhen they say that they will take the odd or two more in sugar. We do\nnot like this jugglery with the terms, and it is only to be excused in\nsuch exceptional cases as when the doctor tells the new golfer that his\ntemperature is 99\u00b0 and the patient inquires anxiously as to what the\nbogey is; or when, in discussing the frowning fortunes of some\nunfortunate acquaintance who has had a hard time in life, and is called\nupon for severe labour in his last days, it is said of this poor chap\nthat he is playing the nineteenth hole and has made an indifferent\ndrive. But, in seriousness, we like our golf to be kept sacred to\nitself, and unassociated with the generally duller pursuits of this\nworkaday world.\n\n\nXI\n\nIs there not a considerable superstition of the links? Even great\nplayers have old clubs that they carry about with them, not so much for\ntheir practical value as for the luck of the thing, as they fancy it;\nand a man once said at Prestwick that he always carried in his bag a\nqueer-shaped iron, though he never used it in these days. This was\nbecause on one famous occasion many years before, when he was seven down\nwith eight to play, and won the match by a brilliancy that did not\nbelong to him, he could only account for it by the circumstance that\nthis club had somehow found its way into his bag by accident. As a small\nacknowledgment to the gods, and a hint that such favours would be\nwelcome in the future, he vowed that he would carry that club with him\non the links for evermore, but that never would he play with it. And he\nkeeps his vow most steadfastly, to the irritation of the burdened\ncaddie.\n\nSome sentiment clings to that cleek belonging to Mr. Edward Blackwell,\nwhich, it has been said, is \u201cshaped like an old boot,\u201d but which, as we\nall know, has done work upon which any cleek might be congratulated. And\nis it not declared that before Mr. Travis set out to play in the\nchampionship at Sandwich, Ben Sayers lent to him for mascot his\nfavourite spoon?\n\nOther golfers have other fancies. Some have it that it is unlucky to go\nout to play without a supply of money, for then surely shall the\nhalf-crown be lost; and others fear that it might go hardly with them if\nthey had not the company of their favourite pipe. On severely important\noccasions, Andrew Kirkaldy will hie himself beforehand to his\ntobacconists in St. Andrews and buy himself a new pipe for luck. Does\nnot special fortune attach to special golfing clothes, and is not the\nlight grey jacket that which brings most luck? Think of all the fine\nplayers who jacket themselves in this way with darker wear below, which\nis out of the usual order. Mr. Hilton has a jacket which goes always\nwith him as the lamb went with Mary, and has thus played its part in\nchampionships innumerable. This is a jacket that has won its place in\ngolfing history.\n\nThe superstitions about the winning of certain holes are stupid and\ngeneral. Why is it such an unfortunate thing with some people to win the\nfirst hole? And yet do they always try to win, and do not bemoan their\nfate if they lose. A trifle more reason, perhaps, is there in the old\ncouplet:\n\n   \u201cTwo up and five to play,\n    Never won a match, they say.\u201d\n\nBut of course matches have been won when the winner was two up with five\nto go, hundreds and thousands of them. There is one man of high\nchampionship rank who has a list of exceptions to this rule, which he\napplies for his own consolation when the fates decree that he shall be\ntwo holes to the good as he stands upon the fourteenth tee. If it suits\nhim, he will put it that the spell will not work if it happened that he\nfluked the thirteenth with a long putt; and he holds upon suitable\noccasion that it has nothing to do with a foursome. One may suppose that\nthe essence of the idea is that the man who is two up at this state of\nthe game is just short of being in nearly the strongest position\npossible, and is sometimes a little inclined to be slack in consequence;\nand then, if he loses the next hole, and is only one up with four to go,\na sudden fear seizes him: he feels that he must fight for his life,\nbecomes flurried, presses--and then the rest of the tale is soon told.\nBut the best and the worst of the proverb lies in its recitation by the\nman who is down when his opponent, bold in confidence, is taking the\nhonour at the fourteenth.\n\nIt must be held as an unfortunate thing to play a ball into a graveyard,\nand it is better, perhaps, that one\u2019s attention should not be called to\nthe memorial stone hard by the eleventh tee at Deal, which tells of a\nfoul murder committed upon some fair maiden at this spot in the long ago\nwhen Deal was unacquainted with the game that has given her fame.\n\nWe hear that the most famous lady players carry charms when engaged in\ntheir most important games. She who won fame as Miss Rhona Adair is said\nto have invariably worn a particular ribbon with a gruesome device of\nskull and crossbones upon it whenever she very much wanted to win her\nmatch. White heather is supposed to be a most potent charm, and it has\nbeen told as a secret that some ladies decline to wash their hands\nbetween rounds, though luncheon comes in the interval, lest evil should\nbefall them afterwards.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WANDERING PLAYER\n\n\nI\n\nThe golfers and other people who know nothing of St. Andrews are often\ninclined to fancy that some of the enthusiasm professed by those who\nhave a tolerable golfing acquaintance with it is affected, because it\n\u201cis the proper thing,\u201d and because it harmonises with the feelings of\nmany revered members of the old school of the game. Perhaps such\nscepticism is pardonable, particularly when it is known that there have\nbeen many hundreds of golfers who have gone to St. Andrews once and\nfailed to be impressed by it, and have not hesitated to declare their\ndoubts about its supremacy on their return to their native links. These\npeople belong to one of three classes. The first is the smallest of the\nthree, consisting of good golfers of sound discrimination, whose\nidiosyncrasies of taste lead them honestly to the conclusion that\nSt. Andrews is greatly overrated, and that it has superiors in various\nother greens. The second and largest batch is composed of men who lack\nboth the necessary golfing knowledge and the true golfing spirit. The\nthird consists of those who have not had sufficient time to know, for\nverily St. Andrews is, to a large extent, a cultivated taste, and there\nare many worthy golfers to whom its first appeal has not been entirely\nconvincing. There is a more or less vague something that attracts\ninstantly, but the rest only comes to the Southron stranger after two or\nthree, or even more, visits of fairly long duration.\n\nThe English golfer does not generally love St. Andrews at first sight,\nbut he shows that interest in her which leads him to talk about her and\nawakens the suspicions of his friends. Then he may speak of her with\nindifference, but he goes back to her again and again, and at last one\nday, when he returns to his home after one of these visits, he feels an\nexquisite soreness at heart, a sweet longing, a strange exaltation, and\nhe knows that a change has come over his golfing life, that he is at\nlast in love with St. Andrews, and that he cannot do without her.\nForthwith his plans for future golfing expeditions are changed and\nmodified. He must now always think of St. Andrews. If he is a man of\nleisure he must go there at least once a year, and even if he has but\nlittle time to spare he will be going to Scotland once in a twelvemonth\nwith his bag of clubs, and must so arrange his itinerary that he shall\ntouch Leuchars Junction going or coming, and shall run down that little\nstrip of railway which makes to the golfer the finest travelling in the\nworld, for two or three days of heartening play on the premier links.\nAll golf is good, but there is something subtle about the St. Andrews\ngolf which makes it not quite like the other, and the man who learns to\nlove it, though the love come in his riper years, when the emotions are\nslow of action and may be weak in result, is faithful to it for the rest\nof his golfing days.\n\nProbably no man has been able completely to define the charm of the\nplace. Its charm is of its golf, for though it has some natural beauty,\nand is greatly historic and of celebrity for its ruins, it casts no\nenduring spell over the man who does not know the use of a driver. The\nconstant talk of it and its tradition has something to do with the\ncharm, no doubt. The stranger, who has never struck a ball there, feels\nsomething of nervous ecstasy as he hears the brakes go on the train that\nslows down on its approach to the station. There, during the last two\nminutes of his journey, is a view of the links, the Swilcan Burn, the\nplayers going out to the second and approaching the seventeenth--and\nthere goes a ball on to that famous road!--just like the fathers of golf\nused to do in the olden days as it is written in the books. Then,\nwalking in St. Andrews, one seems to breathe golf as never before. All\nthe men and boys one sees are players or caddies; there is a knot of men\nat the street-corner talking about the 76 that one of the professionals\ndid in his evening round; there are many golf shops; it is all golf. On\nthe walls, and in the hotels and post offices, there are displayed\nofficial notices, giving the warning that those who play on the course\nwith irons only, or who practise putting on the eighteenth green, may be\nfined 20_s._ or--wonderful enactment!--be sent to prison for a period. A\npersonage of no less consequence than a Cabinet Minister, this being\nMr. Asquith, has been stopped under this rule. The pipes that one hears\nseem to be skirling a song of the greatness of the game and the glory of\nthe men who used to play it here in the olden days. Above all, one comes\ninstantly by a deep sense as of walking on hallowed ground, of being one\nof the heirs to a great heritage in golf, and to a great\nresponsibility. Life and the game are stronger things than they used to\nbe. That same subtle oppression of soul is felt as when one has a first\nglance at the Pyramids or at the tomb of the great Napoleon in the\nInvalides. These things stand for what was a great might, and in its\ngolf St. Andrews is truly mighty.\n\nAnd so it comes that the spirit of the game seems to brood over this\nhallowed spot, and stirs the golfer with fine imaginings and gives to\nhim great impulses. It is all so different from anything else. On the\nevening of his first day he knows that St. Andrews is not like the other\nplaces, and when, after his first rest, he kisses the morning, he is\nglad and he is exalted, because he is at St. Andrews, and there is not a\nman or woman in the place who will not talk to him of the game that he\nloves and sympathise with him in his ardour. The golfer has come home at\nlast.\n\nIt is difficult to describe the merits of the wonderful old course. It\nis there. The people who do not know it cannot be made to understand,\nand the people who do know it have not to be told. It would be hard for\nanybody to prove that it is not the best, if the severest, test of\nscientific golf. Nothing but scientific golf will avail the player here.\nOf late years people have been railing against the bunkers on the\ncourse, and the increase thereof; but after all it is to be remembered\nthat the placing of the majority of these bunkers has been the result of\nthe aggregate of thought of some of the best golfers in the world for a\nperiod of scores of years, and they must be considered in the spirit\nthat Mr. John Low suggests, that no bunker can really be unfair. It is\nthere to be avoided, and it is the best shot that avoids it. No doubt\nthis view might lead to awkward conclusions if pressed in some cases,\nbut it is apparently sound as a general principle of scientific golf, as\napart from the mere pastime and the sensual passion for hard hitting. If\na bunker is in the middle of the course at just the distance of a good\ndrive, it is obviously the duty of the driver to play to one side or the\nother and avoid it; and that is just the characteristic of proper play\nat nearly all of the St. Andrews holes, that the tee shot has not only\nto be cleanly played, and at the proper strength and so forth, but that\nover and above all these things it has to be so accurately placed as on\nno other course. Position means everything at St. Andrews, and the\nnumber and variety of the undulations of the course, the constant\nbunker, and the extreme diversity of the glorious putting greens and the\napproaches thereto, bring it about that a man may play a hole a thousand\ntimes and it has something new to offer him every time, and he might\nplay rounds on this course all the time from his childhood to his old\nage, and those of his last years would be riper with interest than any\nthat went before. Here, indeed, is a course for character; there is\nnothing like it.\n\n\nII\n\nHoylake is new in comparison, but Hoylake is old for England, and it is\nthe leader of golf in the southern section of the kingdom. Hoylake has\nfine traditions of its own which it would not exchange for those of any\nother centre or club, and while it has always had the most perfect\nrespect for the dignity and the conservation of the game, it has\noccasionally shown a commendable disposition towards useful progress. It\nwas the Royal Liverpool Club at Hoylake that took the initiative in the\nestablishment of the Amateur Championship and the international matches;\nand at other times it has impelled St. Andrews towards unwilling, but\nnecessary, action. The club may look back with pride upon the\nearnestness and dignity of its pioneers. They were true golfers of the\nold and most worthy school, and when they began the game there they had,\nas in some other old places, to take a pinch of sand out of the hole\nthat they had just putted into in order to make a tee for their next\ndrive.\n\nBy some it is said that it was the establishment of the links at\nWestward Ho! that gave the idea for making a golf course at Hoylake to\nthe Liverpool golfers. Some of the people of West Kirby played there\nabout the middle of the last century, and the Rabbit Warren, as the\npresent links was then called, was used for golf about 1865. The Royal\nLiverpool Club was established four years later, and for twenty-six\nyears, before the building of its present handsome clubhouse, was housed\nin the Royal Hotel.\n\nIn those days the course began on the hotel side, but with the change of\nresidence there was some necessary changing of the order of the holes,\nthe old first becoming the present last, the old second being now\nnumbered the first, and the old last is the present seventeenth. The\nland of the links is leased from Lord Stanley of Alderley, whose\nancestors acquired it in the time of Queen Elizabeth; and it is\nsignificant of the increasing richness of Hoylake, due largely to its\ngolf, that the assessment upon the club by the union overseers, which\nused to be \u00a3165, was recently raised to \u00a3500.\n\nIn the quality of the golfers that it has produced Hoylake can challenge\nthe whole world of golf. It alone has found an amateur winner for the\nOpen Championship--two of them. It bred the inimitable Mr. John Ball,\nwho has six times won the Amateur Championship--1888, 1890, 1892, 1894,\n1899, and 1907--and is good enough to win it again; and he won the Open\nChampionship in 1890, thus holding both titles at the same time, being\nthe only golfer who has ever done so, and quite likely who ever will. A\nbrass tablet in the entrance-hall and the clock over the clubhouse\ncommemorate this achievement. Mr. Harold Hilton, winner of the Open\nChampionship in 1892 and 1897, and the amateur event in 1900 and 1901;\nand Mr. John Graham, junr., one of the finest products of Hoylake,\ndespite his insistence that he is a Scottish golfer when it comes to\nInternational rivalry, is now at the top of his game, and is good enough\nto win one Championship and very nearly another. So true is it that a\nfine course will breed fine players.\n\nOf the quality of Hoylake there can be no two opinions. It is one of the\nvery best courses in the world, and by common consent it and Deal are\nthe two best in England. Hoylake is far better than it looks. The first\nhole is generally cited as being one of the best two-shot holes to be\nfound anywhere, and it is always good, no matter where the wind is. The\ncourse looks easy. If you play thoroughly well it may not be difficult,\nbut if you do not play well it rends your miserable game asunder. What\nthe possibilities for failure are, were exemplified in a grossly\nexaggerated manner in the final for the Amateur Championship in 1906,\nwhen the finalists halved the sixth hole, which goes by the name of the\nBriars, in 9! They lost their heads, and a player needs his head at\nHoylake. The course is famous for its putting greens. They are fine now;\nbut they are not what they used to be, for in the old days they were so\nmagnificent that it used to be said by everybody that it was a sin to\nwalk upon them. The water has in late years been drawn from the land for\nthe purposes of wells, and this has made a difference.\n\nSt. Andrews and Hoylake--a noble pair!\n\n\nIII\n\nChoosing a companion for a golfing holiday is at all times a serious\nbusiness, and the light and thoughtless manner in which some young\npeople perform the task is, in the interests of their own future golfing\nwelfare, deplorable. Young people are mentioned advisedly, for you do\nnot find the old golfers making their selections hastily, and they do\nnot live to regret those that they make as do the hot-blooded youths who\nare swayed by the fancies of a moment. These select at haste, and often\nenough they repent bitterly before the golfing trip is over. The same\nnice discrimination should be exercised in the choice of such a\ncompanion as would be, or ought to be, in the choice of a wife, and many\nof the points that have to be taken into consideration are similar. As a\ngeneral principle, youth should not mate with age for the purposes of\nmany days\u2019 golf in their own exclusive company away from home, when the\ntwain are cast upon their own joint resources and have their pleasure\nand their welfare bound up with each other. It is a good thing that\nthere should have been a long and tolerably thorough acquaintance\nbeforehand, and there should be some approximate equality in playing\nability. The partners to this important contract should be satisfied\nabove all things that not only are their ideas and ideals concerning the\ngood game largely alike, and their tastes outside the game agreeable to\neach other, but that their temperaments agree to the point that they can\nmake the necessary allowances for each other\u2019s waywardness of conduct,\nwhen in the interests of continued concord it becomes imperatively\nnecessary that this should be done. Trials of this kind will have to be\nendured, and it is well that there should be a firm resolution\nbeforehand to bear with each other\u2019s weaknesses, satisfied always of the\nhigh value of the man. Some old golfers have said, and wisely, that it\nis a good thing to go away on a golfing holiday with a man and never to\ngolf with him--to get the game with others, and to talk of it with the\ncompanion of the trip at breakfast in the morning and at dinner when the\nplay for the day is over; and there can be little doubt that in this\nmaxim there is much wisdom, though it is not necessary to carry the\nrecommendation to the extreme. Too much familiarity with the game of one\nman breeds some contempt for it, even though it be a game that is more\nremunerative in holes than that possessed by the other; and while there\nare no rivals like old rivals, still, if their rivalry is uninterrupted\nit becomes dull and uninteresting.\n\n\nIV\n\nThere is an old golfer who says that it cost him many weeks of failure,\nand many hundreds of pounds, to come by that experience in conducting a\ngolfing holiday as enabled him to make a complete success of such always\nafterwards. For the benefit of others of the smallest experience, who\nare liable to err grievously, he offers the following precepts:--\n\n\u201cHowever keen one may be, and however much one may enjoy the excellent\ngolf that is obtained on a good seaside course, it is a great mistake to\nplay too much during a short holiday, and failure to appreciate this\nfact has completely spoiled more golfing holidays than any other cause.\nThe early keenness is followed by carelessness, and after a while the\ngame becomes somewhat of a taskmaster. Then one\u2019s game suffers severely,\nand even a strong physical constitution is hardly equal to three rounds\na day kept up constantly. Yet that is what many holiday golfers try to\ndo, and when they have finished their vacation they are sick of the\nmention of golf, and wish they had gone fishing or shooting instead. My\nadvice is never to play more than two rounds a day, and to play no golf\nat all on two days of the week; whilst, if the holiday lasts a month,\nthe man will be all the better for a four or five days\u2019 rest in the\nmiddle of it. He will then enjoy all his golf, and the entire holiday\nwill be much more of a success.\n\n\u201cOn a holiday course, where there are many visitors, one sees a greater\nvariety of clubs and golfing implements than anywhere else, and\nnumerous novelties of a more or less attractive character. However\nfavourably many of these ideas may strike you, do your best to resist\nthe inclination to invest in them, because, if you once begin doing\nthis, you will have a dreadful quantity of rubbish to take home. A\ngolfer who thinks several times before he buys a new club when he is at\nhome, somehow seems to be a very irresponsible creature when he is\nholidaying, and will purchase wonderful brasseys, niblicks, and putters\nat the slightest provocation.\n\n\u201cAs soon as you get on to your holiday seaside course, don\u2019t make the\nmistake of beginning to play for larger money stakes than you are\naccustomed to do on your home links, even when you are invited to do so\nand you may feel it difficult to refuse. Comparatively small beginnings\nin this direction have a way of developing before the holiday is far\nadvanced into gambling on the game to an extent that the player cannot\nafford. Apart from this important view of the matter, the pleasure of\nplaying the game is completely ruined. A ball on the match is enough for\nanybody, no matter what balance he may have at his bank, and in starting\na golfing holiday a man will be wise to make up his mind in advance that\nhe will not play for more.\n\n\u201cWhen you are a complete stranger and alone, and you beg the club\nsteward that he will find you matches, do not hesitate when he offers\nyou an opponent, even though the latter\u2019s handicap is either too large\nor too small to give you the most enjoyable match. Take him on at once,\nand be thankful. The steward, who is always an obliging fellow, has a\nrather difficult task in suiting everybody, and you should be greatly\nobliged for the favour he does you in supplying you with any kind of\nmatch.\n\n\u201cIf you are a long-handicap foozler, make your start for the round\neither very early in the morning or very late, say nine o\u2019clock or\nhalf-past eleven. Either of these times is just as good as half-past\nten, and you will miss the crowd, have a clear course, and spare\nyourself the anxiety of being a constant annoyance to the scratch men\nbehind you if you started at the busy time. You will play a much better\ngame.\n\n\u201cAt the commencement don\u2019t announce your handicap as either more or less\nthan what it is at home, whatever your views upon the accuracy of the\nlatter may be. If you say your handicap is more than it really is, you\nare grossly dishonest and a cheat, though some misguided players do so\nwithout any full sense of the grave responsibility of their action. On\nthe other hand, many players with the best of motives say they are\nseveral strokes less than they really are, for the purpose of seeing\nwhat they can really do at a shorter handicap, and thus, as they put it,\npull their game out. They also do it with the object of getting better\nmatches, but their sins will find them out. They may very likely lose\nmost of their matches, and their opponents, perhaps, will not care to\nplay with them again, wanting something more to do. Besides, they may\nrun up against some of their own club fellows, and then they may look\nrather foolish.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t give your newly-made opponent-friend a long account of your many\nbrilliant performances on your home course, particularly if the account\nis by way of being an excuse for your falling off on the present\noccasion. The probability is that he will take a large discount off your\nstory, and in any case he doesn\u2019t care an old gutta what you do at home.\n\n\u201cAlso, don\u2019t make the shocking mistake of discussing with him the play\nand the manners of other visitors to the course with whom you have been\nhaving matches, or whom you have otherwise encountered on the green. It\nis very bad form, and, besides, after you have been denouncing some\nperson or other, your companion may inform you that he is a friend of\nhis.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t ask permission of your opponent to take your wife or your sister\nor your mother round the links with you to watch the match, even with\nthe proviso that she shall keep at a convenient distance from you both.\nLike the good fellow he is sure to be, he will say at once that he will\nbe delighted, and will be most agreeable. But would you be delighted,\nand would you play your best game in such circumstances? Would not the\npresence of a lady stranger rather irritate you, however gallant you\nmight desire to be? And what if all the players on the links did this\nkind of thing? The proper place for ladies who do not play golf is the\nseashore.\n\n\u201cDo please remember that as a visitor to the links, even though you are\nmade a temporary member, you have no _right_ to be there, and are only\nadmitted to the course by the courtesy of the members. This is a point\nin manners which is far too often neglected, and when the neglect is\ncarried to an extreme the golfer may find his application for temporary\nmembership refused another season. There must be no arrogance in your\nconduct in the clubhouse or on the green. Do not complain about the food\nor about the state of the course. You are not obliged to eat or to play\nthere, and the members have got on very well in the past without you,\nand will doubtless survive your departure.\n\n\u201cLikewise remember that others who are playing on the course have at\nleast as much right to do so as you, even if in your opinion they do not\nplay such a high-class game as you do. Therefore don\u2019t get into the\nhabit of calling out \u2018Fore!\u2019 to the couple in front unless it is\nabsolutely necessary to do so, and don\u2019t complain loudly that people who\ntake four putts on the green have no business to come to such good\ncourses and interfere with the play of others.\n\n\u201cAssume that your opponent, though you do not know him well, is both a\ngentleman and a sportsman, as it is extremely likely is the case, and\ndon\u2019t allow any contrary idea to enter your mind unless the evidence in\nfavour of it is overwhelming. Then say nothing about your suspicions,\nbut simply make a convenient excuse when he asks you for another match.\n\n\u201cIf a point of difficulty occurs in the course of your match, do not\nsquabble with your opponent about the rules or stubbornly maintain your\nown position against his arguments. It is better to waive your point and\neven lose a hole than do so. You are unlikely to convince him, and it is\nquite possible that you yourself are in the wrong. Besides, you will\nscore most heavily by gracefully waiving what you feel is your right.\nHe will feel that afterwards.\n\n\u201cWhen you are leaving at the end of your holiday, do not forget to\ntender your best thanks to those to whom they are due. When you get home\nagain don\u2019t tell untruths about the great things you have done while on\nyour holiday. The people to whom you tell them will not believe you.\nIndeed, you must be very careful as to how you tell the good part of the\ntruth.\u201d\n\n\nV\n\nWhen you are one of a special party that sets out for a sojourn at some\nplace, solely for the reason of the golf that it affords, and when in\ndue course, the time having been well and enjoyably spent on the links,\nyour friends determine that they will return home or depart to some\nother place for golf, do not on any account yield to an impulse to stay\nbehind them, on feeling that you could enjoy still a little more play,\nand persuading yourself that among the people you know who are staying\nin the place you may make up good matches. There will be no further\nenjoyment, for all the days that follow will suffer in comparison with\nthose full ones that were spent when those bosom companions helped to\nthe happiness in every hour. The course will not be the same; there will\nbe a ghostly silence about the rooms of your lodging place, and the\natmosphere of the town or village may seem unfriendly or at least\nindifferent; whereas before, in the independence of your association,\nyou had not cared what it was, but formed a vague impression that the\npeople were pleasantly conspiring to add to the comfort and the\npleasure of this expedition.\n\nOn the first morning afterwards it does really seem that all the people\nwho had stayed there had gone also, and not merely the three who had\ncome with you. You breakfast perhaps alone in a vast apartment. The head\nwaiter seems to mix a great sympathy with his attentions, suggesting\nthat he appreciates the loneliness and the misery of your bereavement.\nOut of this wretched place to the clubhouse, and there is no one there,\nand the obliging secretary or steward is unable to give any definite\ninformation as to the prospects of a morning match. You take out a young\nprofessional, and, well though he plays, a poor thing is this match with\nhim in comparison with those that were of the days before, when you knew\nalways the thoughts and fears that were passing through the mind of your\nopponent, and knew almost as well as your own, the clubs with which he\nplayed his shots, and exactly how they did their work. The ghosts of\nyour friends seem to walk in front of you down the fairway leading to\nevery hole, and as you leave the putting green and go forward moodily to\nthe next tee, there is the shadow form of one of them pointing with his\nclub to the exact spot where you remember his ball was teed yesterday,\nand you feel momentarily a happier man as you think you can see his\ncharacteristic swing and the glint of joy that comes into his eyes as he\nfinds he has made the carry that it needed a strong heart to attempt\nwith this wind blowing back from the green. You do not wish to appear\ninconsiderate, and not to show yourself as a man of proper feeling and a\ngood sportsman in the presence of another who can hardly display any\nopen resentment at your attitude, but you cannot help this walking\nmoodily and listlessly to the tee, as if not caring anything for the\ngame that is in progress. There is no familiar talk on the old familiar\ntopics. It is a relief when the match is ended, and you feel less pain\nat being beaten at the thirteenth hole than you have done for a long\ntime.\n\n\u201cI can get a good match for you this afternoon, sir,\u201d says that\nexcellent steward when you go back into the clubhouse. \u201cOh, thanks very\nmuch, Brown,\u201d you say, \u201cbut it doesn\u2019t matter. I think I shall go back\nthis afternoon.\u201d And by the afternoon train you go, and as you are\nwhirled along the seashore and through the open country and the tunnels,\na first thought is that yesterday at the same time those three merry\nfellows were running along the same course, and were perhaps seated in\nthat very carriage. They have gained a day on you in everything. Next\ntime, my friends, we will all go back together.\n\n\nVI\n\nThe customary classification of our golf courses into the inland and\nseaside groups is crude and inadequate. Apart from that there are many\ninland courses, and still more seaside courses, that differ from each\nother more than some in the one class differ from the others in the\nsecond one. The golfer of experience comes subconsciously to put all the\ncourses that he knows well into different groups, those in each group\nhaving some distinguishing characteristic that specially appeals to his\nfancy or his style of play. The student of golfing architecture has no\ndifficulty in separating the links that we know best into four or five\nclearly distinguished classes, or schools as we might call them. The\ncontour and peculiarities of the country over which the course is laid\nare largely instrumental in determining the class to which each one\nbelongs, but the hand of man makes the final decision, and so it is that\non many good courses we have the quality exposed and the temperaments\nsuggested of the great golfing architects of dying and dead generations.\nIt may be that they had very unpliable materials with which to work; but\nafter all in the planning of most holes there are two or three\nalternatives. One designer would determine that the golfers on his\ncourse should play over a high sand hill, while another would have\ninclined to avoiding it or fashioning another hole from another tee\nwhich would take the player round it.\n\nOne of the foremost of these schools of golf architecture is the Heroic.\nThe name has only to be given, and every golfer of experience knows at\nonce what links he would select as belonging to it--links with a fine\nlength and needing a strong arm and a brave heart for successful play\nupon them, links which are broad and bold in their characteristics,\nnever easy, and terribly difficult when Nature is in a tantrum mood.\nThere are not so many drive and pitch holes on such courses, and when\none is encountered the pitch calls for the most thoughtful golf. There\nare long, bare, bunkered holes that chill the blood of the nervous\ngolfer as he goes forth from the tee with a glance at the brasseys in\nhis bag. It seems as if he wanders into a vast space, a wilderness\nwhere the littleness of man is emphasised. As a leading example of\ngolfing architecture of the Heroic school, I would select the fine\ncourse at Deal, and another noble specimen is Prestwick. There is a\ndisposition in these times to make some new inland courses on such\nmodels so far as limited natural opportunities permit, and much the best\nof those that have been created so far is Walton Heath, where it is\nreally Heroic golf all the way from the first tee to the home green.\n\nA school which has yielded many fine courses is the Romantic. The lights\nand shades of such courses are in high contrast, and their colouring is\nrich. Hazards, big and full of character of their own, abound at almost\nevery hole; there are rocks or sandhills everywhere, and likely enough\nthe course is set in a frame of rich scenery surrounding. Some people\nwould describe such courses as being \u201cvery sporting.\u201d When one thinks of\nthe Romantic school, and of the great days of adventure that one has\nspent when paying homage to its dead masters, one thinks of Troon and of\nNorth Berwick; and if of this type one must select one that is away from\nthe sea, there is Sunningdale which clearly belongs to it, though its\nfeatures are not so highly developed. The Braid Hills course is\ncertainly attached to the Romantic school. The architects who were of\nthis school, and the men who most admire their work, are warm-blooded,\nhuman players, who like risks and the overcoming of them, and who would\nhave their pulses throb with the joy of life when they play on the\nlinks. They like, as it is said, to be called upon to take their lives\nin their hands at every stroke of their play. This is great golf.\n\nAs to which of all the schools provides the truest golf it is hard to\nsay, since few men would agree on what is the truest golf. But quite\nlikely the links of the \u00c6sthetic school would be most frequently\nmentioned in this connection. There has been a subtle art at work in the\nplanning of every hole. The architects have taken their patch of land,\nand, scorning all convention, have been inspired by great impulses in\nthe selection and arrangement of the line of play. They have had moods\nand caprices, but they have been men of great genius, born and bred in a\nhigh atmosphere of the game. Like all other men of great independence of\nthought and action, they court and receive severe criticism; but at the\nend of it all the greatness, the superbness of the work is admitted, and\nits fame will for ever endure. There is character in it at every glance,\nbut it is not such as is obtrusive, as at Troon. Here there is the\nperfect art that conceals art, and it is a testimony to its perfection\nthat men go on discussing it for ever and ever, just as they still think\nand worry over the emotions that passed through the mind of Hamlet, and\nare not all agreed upon them. How many different readings, as it were,\ncan one not give to a hole at St. Andrews--almost any hole on the old\ncourse. St. Andrews is the masterpiece of the \u00c6sthetic school--profound,\ningenious, intricate. Here and there we see a little of the influence of\nthe Heroic school; the Romantic has had less. But always the \u00c6sthetic\nschool is a law unto itself, and its finished work is not to be likened\nto that of any other. Hoylake is of this school, though the example is\nnot so pure and unaffected by the two great rival branches of\narchitectural art as St. Andrews. Nevertheless it is distinctly\n\u00c6sthetic, and there is no other course that is worthy of inclusion in\nthis particular class.\n\nWe have another school, which should be called the Victorian. It has\nmany merits, and it is very prolific. It represents a sober and\nindustrious kind of golf, but it is utterly lacking in any inspiration.\nIt is as business like and exact as you please, a six-o\u2019clock-sharp\nmorning-dress kind of golf. It conduces to good habits, and will make\nsome good golfers. But on the whole it is rather prim and dull, and one\nnever feels the blood running in the veins when contemplating it.\nMuirfield is one of the Victorian school, and there are one or two of\nthe satellites of Hoylake, on its own seaboard, that are of it also.\nSandwich has much of the Victorian element in it; but it is redeemed by\nthe strong influence of other schools, as by the extreme romanticism of\nthe Maiden. The suburbs in their own small way went over to Victorianism\nentirely at the outset, partly because their circumstances exerted such\nan irresistible tendency in that direction. A drive over one bunker and\na pitch over the next one is Victorianism in its crudest form; but\nperhaps after all the suburbs are lucky in being able to attach\nthemselves to any school. I am told that the Victorian school has had\nparamount influence in America.\n\n\nVII\n\nOf the links we know, those by the sea, to which do we return for the\ntenth or the twentieth time joyously as to a delightful friend in a\ncharming home? Instantly we murmur the name of dear North Berwick. The\nold player has conviction in this immediate choice by instinct, though\nthe question is not one which he answers lightly. In his heart he has\ncorners for many old loves, and as he brings each one up for\ncontemplation and counts her many charms, he thinks that surely she is\nthe fairest of them all. But inevitably when they have all been passed\nin review his fancy brings him back to one, and he clings to the\nremembrance of her, confessing that she is not like the others. There is\na subtlety in her charm, a fascination in her manners, an \u201caltogether\u201d\nwhich cannot be resisted. She is gentler than St. Andrews, a sweet\ninnocent maiden wading with bare feet among the rocks of the Haddington\ncoast, whom you love to tease and toy with; while my lady of Fifeshire\nis colder and of great dignity and compelling attractions. It is a fine\nsea at North Berwick, and though in the play one may think little enough\nof the sea, it is good to have the wavelets kissing the pebbles hard by\nan occasional green, and to hear their soothing lapping. The sound is\ngrateful to the hard-tried nerves. There are few parts of the North\nBerwick course where one cannot see a little of the ocean, while here\nand there, such as at Point Garry and Perfection, the greens are placed\nin enchanting spots. Then the air is like wine. At North Berwick one is\nin East Lothian, in the centre of the finest golfing country in the\nworld. In two or three weeks one may tire of the same links, the\nmonotony of the same round, the same bunkers, the same greens. Here\nthere are many others at hand, and all within the shortest of journeys.\nChiefly there is Gullane the grand. When you are at Gullane you may\nthink it is better than North Berwick as a place to stay and holiday in.\nIt is quieter, quainter, more old fashioned, a trifle more like the\ncountry, and the golf is glorious. Such is the turf on old Gullane, that\none feels that one should never tread upon the greens save in stockinged\nfeet. And the man who has not captured the eighth and ninth up the hill\nin 4\u2019s, and then on the summit stood hard by the Roundell to survey the\nfinest panorama to be seen on a golf course, and taste the finest air,\nhas something yet to know of the utmost pleasures of a golfer\u2019s\nexistence. Then there are Muirfield, and Archerfield, Kilspindie, and\nall the rest of them, so near that strong men have played on the whole\ncollection in one day. But when you go back to North Berwick in the\nevening you think you will stay there still. You like the comfort of the\nplace, and the green, and you want your Bass Rock.\n\nIt is the place to conjure up a mental picture of some great events of\ndays gone by, as:\n\nIt is nearly sixty years ago, and there is tense excitement on the\nseven-hole course, as it was in those far-off days. A great foursome is\nbeing played, and there is \u00a3400 at issue. Old Tom and Allan Robertson\nare on one side, and the Dunns are against them on the other. They have\nplayed over two other greens and are even, and now they are to decide.\nThe Dunns have had a great lead, but at the second last hole in the\nfifth and last round the game is square. Then the Dunns\u2019 ball lodges\nbehind a stone, and the brothers are in a frenzy, and lose their heads\nin several vain endeavours to extricate it. Old Tom and Allan are dormy,\nand the \u00a3400 goes to them at the last hole.\n\nThis picture fades away, and another framed in mournful black comes up\nin its place. Old Tom and his boy, the great Young Tom, are on the\ngreen, matched against old Willie Park and Mungo Park. Some news comes.\nIt is bad news. It is taken to the green, and the others bow their heads\nfor a moment but say nothing to the boy. But as soon as may be they take\nhim off the links, and put him in a sailing boat to sail across the\nwater with Old Tom, his father, to St. Andrews on the Fifeshire coast.\nAnd there he reels as he looks upon the pallid face of his much-beloved\nwife, her head laid upon a pillow, and the eyelids closed in death.\nYoung Tom\u2019s own death-warrant was signed that moment. The golfing\nhistory of North Berwick is full of the romance of the game.\n\n\nVIII\n\nIn many sequestered places there are fine courses that the golfer in\ngeneral knows little of. Demand of him suddenly that he shall tell you\nof a far-away seaside links where you may rest and play for a little\nwhile until the city calls you back, and by force of habit he will begin\nto murmur pleasantly about his Carnousties and his Gullanes and all the\nrest. They are excellent, most excellent; but we call for change, and\nwhere for the old wanderer is the change that is good enough? When he\nappeals to you, send him down in a cab to Paddington, bidding him take a\nticket to Porthcawl, changing at Cardiff, for you may know that in the\nevening he will be happy, and that upon the next day the joy of life\nwill have come again to a weary worker.\n\nPorthcawl is a place that rests the man and gives balm to his troubled\nspirit. There is a fine links and the open Atlantic, and the Cymric\nspell is cast upon the sojourner--the feeling that one has relapsed from\nthe severity of complicated civilisation for a little while to the peace\nand the simplicity of old Gwalia, the land of the real Briton. One day I\nwas turning the pages of a small guide-book to South Wales, when I\nnoticed that the topographer, in writing of Porthcawl, said somewhat\ncomplainingly that the coast round about there was \u201cextremely desolate.\u201d\nBeyond hinting that there were more rocks about it than were good for\nany well-ordered coast, he preferred not to go into details. He was\ndescribing things for the benefit of that curious person who is\ngenerally called \u201cthe tourist,\u201d and he seemed to feel this was no place\nfor him to linger with his charge. So in apologetic manner he gave his\nreader a small assortment of the usual kind of facts as an excuse for\nhaving mentioned Porthcawl at all. He told him, for example, that the\nnovelist, R. D. Blackmore, who was a word scene-painter of breadth and\neffectiveness, placed the action of his \u201cMaid of Sker\u201d in this region of\nPorthcawl, and if he had had consideration for the golfer he would have\nadded that there are landmarks of the story to be seen from all parts of\nthe links. The tourist was further informed as to a local church, was\nacquainted with the curious fact that here there is a well of fresh\nwater which rises and falls in a puzzling manner according to the going\nout and coming in respectively of the tide, and was supplied with some\nuseful and indispensable knowledge about the character of the shipping\nwith which the port had to deal. And then, as it was felt that the\ntourist must not tarry longer in such a place, he was hurried on to\nsome other, where there were piers and bands, and a variety of historic\nremains for contemplation and study in serious moments.\n\nGenerally the requirements of the golfer are in inverse ratio to those\nof the tourist, and it is tolerably safe to predict that when a coast is\ndescribed as \u201cextremely desolate,\u201d it represents a fine piece of golfing\ncountry. It is one of the good things of golf that it has come into our\ncivilisation to use up all utterly barren and waste tracts of coastwise\nland, and that generally the more barren and waste the better they are\nfor golf. Are not some of the best links there are in Britain situated\non coasts that are to the non-golfing mind, uneducated to the beauty and\ncharm of testing, full-blooded and yet scrupulously fair holes, quite\nnaked of all attraction? And what an excellent arrangement of\ncircumstances it is! The neighbourhood of Prestwick is sometimes by way\nof being \u201cboomed\u201d as a health resort, a place that affords a fine tonic\nto the lungs, and I believe the claim is well justified; but not all\npeople would describe this spot in Ayrshire as being \u201cinteresting,\u201d and\nthere is certainly no kind of relation between the quality of the coast\nscenery and the inestimable grandeur, from the golfing point of view, of\nthe Cardinal, the Himalayas, and above all of the glorious seventeenth,\nthe Alps. And consider Sandwich. No tourist of discrimination has been\nseen, or will be, on these reclaimed wastes that have already given us\none championship course, and lately a new links, which is of superlative\nquality. And the \u201cextremely desolate\u201d coast at Porthcawl which did not\nplease our guide-book man, is found on acquaintance to be an excellent\nexample of Nature\u2019s impressionist seascape work, with savage rocks\nabounding. Even the name of Porthcawl smacks of coves and pirates, of\nbreezes and big seas. Porthcawl sticks out so that there is nothing in\nthe world between it and the United States of America except the\nAtlantic Ocean. Its golf links are on the very margin of the sea,\ncontiguous to those black, sharp rocks--so near, indeed, that a really\nbadly-hit ball may sometimes be sent dancing at all kinds of fantastic\nangles from one to another, until it comes to rest in an inaccessible\nplace whence it will never be disturbed. Sometimes in the severer\nseasons, the sea, with the full, unbroken force of the Atlantic behind\nit, will be sent smashing along over the rocks, and even over the golf\nlinks too, until some of the bunkers are laden with salt water.\nPorthcawl is fine, and it is a fine change, and there are holes on the\ncourse that have a boldness and a vigour that stir the pulse of the\ngolfing man. We play over the wall and up the hill to the turn, and\nthere is South Wales and its ocean frame spread out at our feet, making\nus linger upon a glorious scene and sigh a little as we drive down the\nhillside to the first hole in.\n\n\nIX\n\nIt is fine golf that is to be had now on Kent\u2019s eastern seaboard, and\neach time one comes down into this neighbourhood with one\u2019s bag of\nclubs, the more one is strengthened in the conviction as to its equal\nexcellence with any other golfing district in the world, and the\nabundance of its fine prospects for the future. The magnificent\ncharacter of the golf, chiefly that which is enjoyed under the\nauthority of the Cinque Ports Club at Deal, is becoming better known and\nappreciated year by year, and even now the feeling is general that here\nis one of the finest links that were ever made for a championship to be\nplayed upon. The sister course of the Royal St. George\u2019s Club is\npractically joined up to it, and now a little farther along the bay in\nthe direction of Ramsgate is the new course of the Prince\u2019s Club, and a\nvery fine course too. So here we have stringed together along a small\nstretch of coast three of the very best courses that are to be found in\nthe whole world of golf--one which is actually a championship course, a\nsecond which is perhaps by way of being so, and a third which may soon\nbe mentioned in the same connection. There is enough good golfing land\nleft in Pegwell Bay to make a fourth course, and some day not very far\ndistant it may be made. Nature has here given to the golfer every\nnatural advantage that it is possible to afford him in the preparation\nof those seaside links, the contemplation of which brings the light of\npleasure into his eyes. Golf is great in our modern scheme of things,\nand some have said, without irreverence, that they see the shaping hand\nof Providence in short holes of such sporting quality as the Maiden and\nthe Sandy Parlour, in those glorious last four holes at Deal, and in all\nthat bumpy ground to be covered in approach play which calls for such an\nabundant exercise of the wits of the thoughtful golfer, and inevitably\nrecalls to him some of the best characteristics of St. Andrews. So much,\nindeed, does all this place look as if it were made for golf, and\nintended to be a capital of golf, that a man with whom I played there\nonce was led, while we were waiting at one of the tees, to the remark\nthat if golf had never been invented it would surely have come to be so\nas soon as intelligent men had wandered hereabouts, so direct is the\nsuggestion that is made by the nature and the contour of the land. One\nfinds it difficult--nay, even impossible--to think of a better stretch\nof golfing land in the whole of England or Scotland, or anywhere where\nthere are three links of this quality joined up to each other, so that,\nif so whimsically disposed, a golfer might play on from one to the\nother, and make a triple round of fifty-four holes.\n\nHere, then, is a place which is eminently adapted to become a leader\namong golfing centres, and it would surprise no one if, at an early\nstage of the further evolution of golf and golfing matters, it came to\nbe regarded as the chief of all. It is not to be overlooked that it\nenjoys the inestimable advantage of proximity to London. When London\ntakes a fancy to such a thing as golf she likes to be its master, and\nwill leave nothing undone to assert her supremacy. She has taken to\ngolf, and Scotland already knows with what masterful zeal she is\npursuing it. These seaside links of eastern Kent are to all intents and\npurposes London links, in that they are nearer than any other to London,\nand are fed almost exclusively from the capital. And a further advantage\nthat the place possesses is in the fine bracing air with which it is\nenveloped, air which for its invigorating properties is hardly to be\nexcelled anywhere in Great Britain. When the wind comes from the\nsouth-east with moderate strength, as it so often does down there, it is\na fine thing for the golfer, and a stimulant not only to himself but his\ngame.\n\nThe locality begins to feel, as one might say, like a great golfing\ncentre. You know how St. Andrews and Carnoustie and North Berwick \u201cfeel\u201d\nlike that. The intelligent interest of the non-golfing people in the\ntowns and villages round about is being awakened in the game, and they\nare all discovering in some way or other how they may make themselves to\nbenefit by it. Particularly is this the case with regard to a certain\ngood class of private hotels and boarding-houses catering specially, if\nnot exclusively, for golfers. In all the great centres of the game one\nfinds these places in abundance, and every player of experience knows\nhow, in many respects, they are often to be preferred to the big hotels.\nThen we find a leading thoroughfare called Golf Road, houses called Golf\nVillas, establishments named Golf Bakeries and Golf Laundries, all of\nwhich little details are a sign that the game is coming to be regarded\nin the district as an \u201cindustry,\u201d and the district is wise in arriving\nat such an understanding in good time. Moreover, one would be inclined\nto say that the standard of play down here is at least as high, taking\nit all round, as it is at any other big golfing centre. There are\nfoozlers on every links, but more men with very short handicaps, men who\nhave really come to grips with the game, are playing round Pegwell Bay\nthan in most parts, chiefly because, whether member or visitor, the\nexpense of playing is considerable, and the play itself is difficult,\nand the long-handicap men have discovered that there is not much fun in\npaying high rates for the privilege of spending week-ends in bunker\npractice. And yet another attribute of the large and important golfing\ncentre does this neighbourhood possess, in the good quality of the\ncaddies which in the course of many seasons it has at last developed. A\nman once said that if he saw the caddies beforehand he could tell what\nkind of golf was played in a place, and though this may have been going\ntoo far, there was a germ of truth in the idea. Mediocre links and\nmediocre players never produce good caddies, and the reverse argument\ngenerally holds good; and everybody knows that a good race of caddies is\nnot to be produced in a couple of seasons. Oftentimes it needs at least\na generation. But the caddies at Deal and Sandwich nowadays are\nexcellent, and this is not such an unimportant matter as some people\nmight imagine it to be.\n\n\nX\n\nWhen you think of it, there is no inconsiderable portion of our golfing\nlives that is spent in travelling to and from the links that are far\nfrom home, by railway and by motor-car, and if one falls into a\nreflective mood there are many experiences, some curious and some\ntrying, that are to be called to mind in connection with these journeys.\nOn the whole, perhaps, the reflection does not make for much joy, except\nin the knowledge that these are things of the past and are not likely to\nbe repeated. When the assemblies for the championships are being made,\nthere is less talk of current form than there is of adventures in\ntravelling. Oh, the horrors of a wait at Dumfries in the small hours of\na cold morning, when the mistake has been made of trying to get to\nPrestwick that way! Turned out from the comfortable, warm, snug\nsleeping-car at Carlisle, even the blanket and pillow that were\nvouchsafed to you on parting from the express are begrudged you now at\nthis most icy, inhospitable Dumfries. With that curious, dirty, dazed\nfeeling as of being a boiled owl, you watch the men throw the mails into\nthe van that is to take them and you on to Ayr, and listen to them\njoking about the events of the previous night as if it were now really\nmorning. You tell everybody what you think about Scottish common sense\nin not having a fire in any waiting-room and no place available for any\nrefreshment, and the Scots themselves are too courteous to say what they\nmust think of your common sense for a golfer in making this journey in\nthis weird way. Then you get into a smelly, dirty carriage, and with\njerks and jolts the train drags itself out of the station and slowly\naway along the line. Stop, stop, stop every two or three miles, but at\nlast it is Ayr, and the worn-out golfer, cursing himself for his folly\nand others for their heathenism, gets out and steps forth into the land\nof Burns. But it is yet only a little past five o\u2019clock, and all Ayr is\nfast asleep, and there are no fires, no refreshments, and no ways of\ngetting to Prestwick just yet. This is to be a golfer! But all things\nend sometime except eternity, and at last you are at Prestwick, and the\nfinest thing you ever did in your life was then to keep your first ball\nstraight and uninfluenced by the gravestones in the churchyard, and to\nsqueeze a heartening if a little fluky 3 at this first hole. My reader,\nbe assured that the night train through Carlisle, and changing there and\nat Dumfries, is not the way to go to the west coast of Scotland where\nare Prestwick and Troon. Run through to Glasgow and down again, as\nindeed everybody but those crazy people who are always finding new ways\nof doing things, always do.\n\nBut generally night-travelling is an excellent thing when you get used\nto it, and it spares a day to golf. It is a fine thing to pack your bag\nof clubs away lovingly in your berth after a dinner at the London\nterminus, and before you turn off the light you look at them and think a\n\u201cGood-night!\u201d to them in a cheery way as of old and trusted\ncompanionship. \u201cOff again, my friends!\u201d you seem to say. \u201cWe have done\nthis sort of thing before, eh? We know what we are going to do, you and\nI, eh? Yes, you are the fellows. Bonny boys, you are! Where? Didn\u2019t you\nknow? Why, North Berwick, of course! Now, bye-bye! Let\u2019s sleep. Play in\nthe morning.\u201d And then you switch off the light, and slip away into\ndreamland where there are glorious holes on seaside courses, and\npresently there is a big thump on the door and that dream is spoiled and\ndispelled by a man\u2019s gruff voice. But the next moment is one of those\nmost worth living. The dream is realised or is in the realisation, for\nthe caller brings you to your joyful senses by declaring that in fifteen\nmore minutes you will be wheeling into Edinburgh. In those dreams which\nwere helped by a soothing lullaby from the wheels below, the London was\nslipping away four hundred miles from the tail of the train, and here is\nGolf, its own rare land.\n\nAnd what feats one can perform on a motor-car! And does. Just finished\nour putts on the home green at St. Andrews, and the sun going down, and\nup comes one of our impulsive party and says it is ordered that we go to\nGullane to-night by car! Goodness! But it has to be, and in half an hour\nwe are bowling along those Fifeshire roads, and we are ferried across\nfrom Burntisland in the gloom and run into Edinburgh. Good supper, some\ntalk in a tone of suppressed excitement as if great adventures are\nafoot--as they are--and history is being made, and then we hoot-hoot\naway into the blackness of the night. And it is black farther on. And\nthe blacker it is the faster that dare-devil man at the wheel makes her\ngo. Running along roads the width of the car and stone walls on either\nside, while branches of trees are almost scraping the tops of our heads,\nand one might swear the speed-gauge has its finger on the fifty.\n\u201cMrs. Forman\u2019s!\u201d you say to the man beside you, to show you are not\nthinking of the awful risks as we dash by Musselburgh. Farther on a cap\nis lost in the black and windy night, but nobody complains. It is enough\nthat all survived that terrible twist round the corner at Gosford.\nAberlady! That is a fine thing to hear. \u201cWill you stop here to-night, or\ncome on to Gullane?\u201d It is the end. You have indeed come through a great\nordeal, and it is a great thing to be standing there in the night with\nyour bag of clubs under your arm, and to be able to answer a greeting as\nit ought to be, and to let your thoughts slip away soon to the golf of\nthe morning that is coming.\n\n\nXI\n\nBut it is clear to me that the golfer who wishes to go golfing, and at\nthe same time to live the richest and most adventurous life of the\ntraveller, needs to take himself abroad and roam from course to course\nin Eastern and Central America. He will encounter many incidents that\nwill interest and enliven him, as did the four eminent British\nprofessionals who some time since made a golfing expedition from here in\nthe winter-time in search of Mexican treasure--dollars that were offered\nin open competition at San Pedro. They told me a great tale of their\nadventures on their return, and, as I have reason to believe, a strictly\naccurate one. Andrew Kirkaldy, Alexander Herd, Jack White, and Rowland\nJones were the treasure-hunters, and dashing fellows they seemed as they\nboarded a special express at New York. Having started thence at five\nminutes to eleven one Wednesday morning, the train reached St. Louis at\n1.30 on Thursday, having been much delayed by a wreck on the Wabash in\nwhich fourteen persons were killed and injured. This news added greatly\nto the discomfort of the four British golfers. They lunched at the\nPlanters\u2019 Hotel, went round the city, saw a performance at the theatre,\nand boarded the train again at half-past eight in the evening.\nThereafter Messrs. Kirkaldy, Herd, White, and Jones were brought to\nrealise some of the possibilities of travelling in through trains along\nthe American Continent. They were in the last car of the train, and\nafter the journey had been resumed about half an hour, there was a\nnegative kind of happening in the form of a gradual slowing down and\nthen a final stop of the train--or rather, as it proved, of the\ncarriage. After waiting a little while in patience the party put their\nheads out of the window, and then they came to realise the horrible\ntruth. Their carriage had become uncoupled, and the train had gone on\nand left them! Here was a state of things! There was no other train to\nget them through in time. Hundreds of pounds were to be picked up at\nSan Pedro, and they would not be there to pick them up as they had\nintended. The prizes would have been a gift for them, and either \u201cAndra\u201d\nor Rowland Jones would have become an open champion of sorts at last.\nWhen these thoughts had chased each other through the minds of the great\nBritish quartette for half an hour, someone got up aloft, and, like the\nwidow Twankey--or Sister Anne was it?--in the pantomime, said that he\nthought he saw something coming. Immediately afterwards he confessed he\nwas mistaken, but he had scarcely admitted the mistake when the original\nstatement was renewed with vigour. There _was_ something, and eventually\nit was made out as a railway train. The four great British golfers were\nsaved for Mexico, and they would yet win championships and dollars--at\nleast they might do, as they might now prefer to put it. It seemed that\nafter the train had parted company with its last carriage, in about a\nquarter of an hour somebody in the moving section happened to notice the\ncircumstance, and remarked that it was rather curious that a carriage\nshould be left down the line in that manner, and that there should be no\nfuss made. The matter being reported to the officials on the train they\ndecided to put back and see if they could find the carriage containing,\namong others, the party of four great British golfers. As we have\nalready seen, they did so. Then the whole train moved on again towards\nMexico, and \u201cAndra\u201d went to sleep in his berth dreaming, perhaps, of the\nold course at home and of his doing the home hole in 2.\n\nThe four British golfers found things rather dull for the next two days,\nfor nothing in particular happened while they were running through\nfifteen hundred miles of woods and prairie. On Saturday morning they got\nout of the train at San Antonio, Texas, in time for breakfast, and the\nsame evening they reached Laredo, the Mexican border, where their\nluggage was examined. Spanish being the prevailing language, this\nprocess proved rather troublesome, especially as the officials had\nvarying and peculiar views as to the goods on which duty should be paid.\nSome of the party had to pay it on their golf clubs, and others escaped.\nThe train had hardly got going again when it was pulled up on account of\nan obstruction in front, and it was three hours before a further advance\nwas made, the impediment being a freight-train which had run off the\ntrack. By this time Kirkaldy was sighing for a ride on the North\nBritish, and White was hoping that he might be allowed the privilege of\nmaking his last journey on earth on the beautiful South-Western. But\nthere was more adventure to come.\n\nThe four great British golfers had heard awful tales of Mexicans and\nwhat they were capable of, but they understood the place was more\ncivilised now--must be, as there was golf there. In the dead of night,\nwhile the famous quartette were wrapped in slumber, when White found\nhimself back on to his drive, when Herd had nothing but good luck for a\nwhole season, when Jones was pipping one Braid for the championship\nnearly every time, and when the fourth of the party of British golfers\nwas doing a round on the links in Elysium in eighteen under par--there\nwere robbers going through the car! They were real robbers, such as are\ncommonly found on these trains in these parts. They went through the\ntrain \u201cin the most approved style,\u201d as it was said of them, and before\nthe first streaks of the Mexican dawn had lit up the sky there were many\nmen in that golfing train who were much poorer than when they went to\nsleep. One of the Boston amateurs going to the same tournament lost six\nhundred dollars, his gold watch, and trunk checks, and several others\nfound that various sums of money belonging to them had disappeared. And\nhow fared the four British golfers? Was it for fear of him, for respect,\nor for admiration, that the Mexican robber did not concern himself at\nall with the great British golfer? In due course they landed at Mexico\nCity on Monday morning. The four British golfers were much impressed by\nthe peculiar dress of the Mexicans, which they even found to be affected\nby the caddies. Andrew spoke a few preliminary words of greeting to the\nboys, but they only smiled, not understanding Scotch. But they showed a\nstrong disposition to be good friends, an attitude which, as was\nsubsequently discovered, was not entirely because they were great\ngolfers. Caddies are much the same the wide world over. Of the further\npursuit of the treasure by the four great British golfers, and of their\nmany disappointments, the story has been already told.\n\n\nXII\n\nA celebrated golfer, being in one of his lighter moods, discussed with\nme the future association of aeroplanes and golf, and he observed that\nwhen the flying machines came they would be such boons and blessings to\nthe golfing fraternity above all others as nobody imagined at the\npresent time. He opined that no sooner did the flying machine become\nworkable and reliable than every golfer who considered himself at all\nthorough, and took any proper care of his game, would think it his\nbounden duty to possess one. It would be as necessary to the playing of\nhis true game as the nails in the soles of his boots and shoes, and he\nwould be just as seriously handicapped without the one as the other.\nThis was a startling proposition; but though it was a great exaggeration\nof an idea, the idea itself was sound, and was based on the wisest and\nmost generally-accepted philosophy. It was submitted that the aeroplane\nwould be very good for golf, inasmuch as it would do less towards\nputting a man off his game at the beginning of the day than any other\nform of locomotion from his place of residence to the golf course.\n\nIt is a disturbing reflection that practically everything that one does\nin these days that is not golf tends to injure one\u2019s golf. Nothing has\never been discovered that with any consistency and regularity will\nimprove it, except golf; the effect is always adverse, and perhaps this\ntrying jealousy of the game adds something to its general fascination.\nUsually a more or less lengthy journey has to be made from the golfer\u2019s\nhome to the first tee, and it is this which is so much calculated to\ndisturb his playing temperament. No matter how you make this journey it\nmust be bad for your game, and the only difference between one way and\nanother is in the degree of badness.\n\nWhen a man has risen from his bed in the morning, thoroughly roused\nhimself, and noticed that it is a fine day, he is at his best for\ngolfing. After that all things put him off. Some authorities are very\nadverse to the cold bath, and others have even said that one\u2019s breakfast\nought not to be regarded as an absolutely loyal friend. But it is the\njourney to the links--with all its delays, irritations, inconveniences,\nand joltings--that does the most damage. Frequently this journey is a\nmixture of cabs, omnibuses, and trains. At one point or another you have\nvery likely to run for either the omnibus or the train, and this is\ncertain to do something towards putting you off. It may be only a\nlittle, but it is this trifle added to other similar trifles that make\nup a total sufficient to bring disaster to your driving and putting. If\nyou do not need to run anywhere, you have to wait, and this irritates\nand does harm. Then the great vibration of the cab and the omnibus most\nseriously affect the nervous system.\n\nThe golfer may not be conscious of it, but the effect is there. How true\nthis is may be judged by taking the extreme case of the motor-bicycle. A\nyear or two ago large numbers of golfers who could not afford motor-cars\nwent in for the cheaper kind of machine, but to a man they found them\nquite fatal to golf, and particularly to their putting, the vibration\nhaving reduced their nerves to such a state that delicacy of touch on\nthe putting green was next to impossible. Ordinary bicycles are nearly\nas bad. In many respects motor-cars have great advantages, and have\nbecome very popular with golfers, but they are far from being the ideal\nform of locomotion. Here, again, there is vibration, and if you have\nanything in the nature of a fright on the road you may generally reckon\nthat your game for the day is damaged to the extent of a number of\nstrokes that varies with the individual. Having all these things and\nmany more in mind, the superiority of the aeroplane, from the golfer\u2019s\npoint of view, becomes evident. It will take you from your door to the\nfirst tee, and, as there are no roads to jolt upon, one conceives that\nin the perfect aeroplane there will be no vibration, and, barring the\neffects of his breakfast, the golfer will be transported to the links in\nas nearly as possible the ideal state in which he rose from his bed.\n\n\nXIII\n\nSome footpaths count for very much in the playing of a hole, and at\ntimes call for and produce fine shots that would never be made if there\nwere no path there. So sometimes they are good to the game; but\ngenerally they are merely an aggravation. You could hardly call a path\nor a road famous, but if you were asked which were the most notable you\nwould probably call to mind first of all the path that goes across the\nfirst and eighteenth holes at St. Andrews, which is distinguished from\nothers because of the devil-may-care spirit in which the general public\ndefy injury and death by the way they saunter along it when such men as\nEdward Blackwell are standing on the first tee, and it is also a path\namong paths, because it has led to the cultivation of the most\nmagnificent voice ever heard on any golf course. The man who has not\nheard Starter Greig fire his blast of warning through the hole in his\nbox down the fairway--with a clap, and a bang against the horizon, for\nall the world like a discharge from a small brass gun--is still ignorant\nof one of the minor wonders of the golf world, and has a very inadequate\nperception of the possibilities of calling \u201cFore!\u201d Likewise, one would\nsay that of all roads--as superior to mere paths--that which skirts the\nseventeenth green on the same old course is the most remembered by the\nmajority of good golfers--remembered sadly. How many golfers have had\ntheir brightest hopes dashed by that road when within sight of home and\nvictory it would be a sorry task to count, but there lingers in my mind\na dreadful scene when J. H. Taylor\u2019s ball went there in the course of\nthe 1905 championship meeting, from a not by any means unworthy shot,\nand of his trying, time after time, to get it back to the green, until\nwhen he had done so his nerves were tingling as would have been those of\nany man.\n\nThe paths and roads of Blackheath are altogether probably responsible\nfor the making of a bigger and more enduring piece of golfing history\nthan any others. Other footways may have despoiled great players of\ndeserved honours, but thus their effects are chiefly destructive, and it\ncannot be claimed for them that they have made anything for the game.\nBut the Blackheath paths and roads have been constructive in their\neffect upon the game, for they made the brassey. There is a fair\nconsensus of opinion that this most necessary of modern clubs was first\nintroduced on this course as a consequence of these paths and roads that\nhad to be played from, and also partly on account of the gritty nature\nof the turf. In those days of the use of the brassey, when a Blackheath\ngolfer appeared on a Scottish course, the caddies knew his headquarters\nat once. \u201cHe comes frae Blackheath,\u201d they would say with some\ndeprecation. \u201cThere\u2019s naething but gravel pits and stones at\nBlackheath.\u201d\n\n\nXIV\n\nHowever humble its merits may be, it is well that a man should be\nfaithful always to his mother course, respectful of her, and that he\nshould not speak and very tardily admit to himself the blemishes of her\nfeatures. For it is always for him to remember that she, and she alone,\ngave the game to him that has yielded him so much happiness, and he owes\nto her a debt that he can never repay, save in constancy and gratitude.\nTherefore it is to be reckoned as a good thing in a golfer that,\nwherever the necessities and vicissitudes of life may take him to live,\nand for whatever other courses he may in mature years find a fondness\nand become attached to by membership, he should, if he can do it, always\nremain an associate of his first club, and should from time to time\ndisplay some public attachment to its course, even though it be at some\ninconvenience to himself. It is a little act of filial homage that\nshould not be neglected.\n\nAt such times he will be kind to her and will not chide her for her\nweaknesses. He will humour her good-naturedly. The sixteenth may be a\nbetter hole on another course, but do not say so now. Think how rich did\nthat sixteenth here seem in those far-off days when the teething to the\nclubs was first being done. What terrors had its bunkers! What a big,\nlusty, and not to say a brutal one, did it seem then; but now to the\ntime-worn golfer, if the truth must be whispered for once to himself,\nthat old sixteenth seems something of a milksop, and can be played in\nten different ways with a half-hearted drive and something of a mashie\nor iron. How happy we were despite the constant troubles in those olden\ndays, when we were always with our mother links, and knew no others! The\nold men of golf came and told us of the great courses that they had\nencountered in their travels--such wonderful holes, such amazing\nbunkers, such marvellous putting greens! These travellers\u2019 tales were\npleasant to listen to, and they fired the imagination; but after all we\nreturned with some content to our mother links.\n\nAnd then, what golfer does not remember the day, particularly if he was\nthen no longer a child in years, when he went away for the first time\nfrom that course and paid a visit to one of those celebrated of which so\nmuch is written in the books and on which so many fine matches and\nchampionships are played? This is always an epoch, and a stirring one in\nevery golfing life. There are many wild emotions in the man when for the\nfirst time he takes his club to play a shot on this foreign course of so\nmuch renown. If he is an intelligent man, and an impartial one, he sees\nthe merit and the glory, and he admits it without reservation. He feels\nthat now he has gone out into the great world, and that there are more\nwonders in it than even his utmost fancy had suspected. He is like the\nQueen of Sheba who went to see the magnificence of Solomon, confessing\nthen that it was a true report that she had heard in her own land,\nthough she believed not until her eyes had seen, when she knew that the\nhalf had not been told her. Out alone on this wonderful course the\nfeeling of loneliness and helplessness will come upon this immature\nplayer. Truly the half had not been told to him, and in mortal agony in\nsome \u201cHell\u201d or other, or in a Devil\u2019s Kitchen or a Punchbowl, or it may\nbe in the sandy wastes of a Sahara or in a crevasse on the heights of\nthe Alps or the Himalayas--how, then, will he be reminded of the tender\nindulgences of his mother links, of her constant kindness, and of the\nway in which she humoured his youthful caprice and smiled patiently upon\nhim when he was fretful! Perhaps she was too indulgent, and the maternal\nlaxness did something towards the spoiling of the child for the manhood\nthat was to follow. But no matter, let the golfer always be kind and\nwell disposed to his mother links.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUNNY SEASON\n\n\nI\n\nOne hears it said sometimes by versatile and thorough-going sportsmen,\nthat of all the sweet sensations to be discovered and enjoyed\noccasionally in the whole world of sport, the hitting of a perfect tee\nshot is one of the best, one of the only two or three best. These men\nare probably right, for the hitting of a really spanking ball from the\ntee, when one feels the complete absence of a grating or a jerking\nanywhere in the system, showing that the whole of the most complicated\nmovement has worked round the centre with the accuracy of a watch, and\nthat every ounce of available power has thus been put into the drive to\nthe greatest advantage--this is a fine thing to feel, and the pity is\nthat the joy of it is so fleeting, and that the memory of it has\nentirely gone a few minutes later when some succeeding shot has not been\nquite so good.\n\nBut is there not another feeling which comes to a man in the game\nsometimes which is even more uplifting, much more so? It lasts longer,\nand it is fuller, richer. The man is then transformed, etherealised; he\nis no longer a thing of this crawling, walking world; and he is not a\nmere man on the links as he used to be, happy, indeed, for the most\npart, but very human, with many adversities to encounter, as generally\nin this world. The man is raised for a while to the higher state, and\nhis golfing soul floats in Valhalla when he is suddenly permitted to\nplay many holes in succession better than he had ever played holes\nbefore--everything perfect, and a little more than perfect, which means\nfortunate all the way from the tee to the flag. It is one of those days\nwhich have been dreamt about and regarded as impossible, when the\nmarvellous coincidence has occurred of the man being \u201con\u201d everything at\nthe same time, and of everything going right when he was thus on them.\nAforetime it has been that when he was on six things a seventh has led\nhim astray, and there has always been a seventh at least, if not another\ntoo. The factor of evil could never be cancelled. But this time it is,\nand it is as if the gods, smiling benevolently on the lucky and\nsuccessful player, determine that he shall be happy to the utmost, and\ntherefore they allow him all the good fortune that is theirs to give.\nThe most perfect balls are driven from the tee, the most impossible\ncarries are accomplished; there is a delightful crispness about the\napproaches, and the six-feet putts are holed with precision and\nconfidence; while here and there, to the utter demoralisation of the\narch enemy par, to say nothing of the poor man who is the human victim\nof it all, the long putts go down as well.\n\nIt is, perhaps, given to most players to be stirred with this\nindescribable joy once or twice in their lives--seldom more than that.\nIt is not until three or four holes have been played that the full\nrealisation of what is happening comes to the favoured player, and it is\nthen that he is rapidly etherealised. His joy may last for another four\nor five holes; it will seldom endure a round. I have seen men when they\nhave been in this state and under this most extraordinary influence, and\nthey have not then been as they are at other times. Their inward ecstasy\nshines outside them. There is a curious nervous smile on their faces,\nand their eyes gleam. Their steps are short and hurried. They seldom\nspeak, and when they do there is a touch of incoherency in their\nremarks. It is best that they should not be spoken to. They are\nsuffering from a curious dementia of exaltation. They have help from\nOlympus, and history is being made. When I have seen it done I have once\nor twice made a close study of the behaviour of the man, and I know that\nit is as I have written. One of the most memorable occasions on which I\nwitnessed this super-exaltation was during an Open Championship at\nSandwich, when records were being made, and when at last a fine amateur\nplayer seemed to set out towards the making of one more. Hole after hole\nwas played with that combination of perfection and fortune, and at last\nthe man fell under the influence, and you could see it in possession of\nhim as he went tripping along. You knew that, phlegmatic as a golfer\nmust be who aspires to the greatest achievements, and as this one often\nwas even in the hour of crisis, his heart was now beginning to beat.\nSoon afterwards it was all over; there was an amazing catastrophe on a\nfiery putting green and four or five putts were needed there. Three\nyears later I saw the same man with the exaltation in him again at\nMuirfield, when he went through to a great achievement. I shall not\nforget the look of that man when he was doing these things. It is a\nchilly descent when the spell is broken, and it is all earth and clay\nagain, but in the reaction there is no suffering. A happy reason comes\nto the rescue of the throbbing player, and he is reminded that such\nthings are not to be for always, lest golf should not be what it is.\n\n\nII\n\nWhen the sun shines the putting greens get keen. There is an old saying\nthat driving is an art, iron play a science, and putting is the devil.\nJust that--the devil. I agree entirely, and I have ascertained that the\ngreatest exponents of the game are in sympathy with the suggestion.\n\nWell may the writers of text-books of the game declare, when they come\nto the chapter on putting, that there is really nothing to say, and that\nthey must leave the reader to find out the whole business by instinct\nand practice, as there are no rules to be laid down for his guidance.\nWhat would be the use of their pretending that they can really teach\nputting when, if they had to hole an eight-feet putt for a championship,\nthe odds would be slightly against them? In June 1905, while I was\nsmoking my pipe on the top of the bank on the far side of the home green\nat St. Andrews, I was being provided at intervals of no great length\nwith much food for reflection and philosophy, better than which no man\nwho ever talks or writes of golf could wish for. The Open Championship\nwas being played for, and there duly came along Vardon, Braid, Taylor,\nand Herd, all more or less favourites for the event in progress, and it\nis a real fact that of these four men three of them missed putts at\nthis home hole of less than a yard. I think the average length was about\neighteen inches; one of them was not more than a foot, and the way in\nwhich the ball was worked round to the far side of the hole without\ngoing in was wonderful--quite wonderful. It will be noticed that I give\nfour names and mention only three misses. This is because even the\ngreatest players are sometimes very tender on this subject of missing\nshort putts, and to spare them any annoyance I do not name the\nparticular individuals who failed. It is enough that one of them, and\none only, did not.\n\nThe history of every man\u2019s golf is covered with metaphorical gravestones\nas the result of all the short putts he has missed. Every season the\nwhole course, and the result of almost every event of importance, would\nbe changed if one or other of the parties did not miss some of these\napparently unmissable putts. One need go no farther back than last\nyear\u2019s Amateur Championship meeting. I saw Mr. John Graham miss a\ntwo-feet putt in his match with Mr. Robb on the fourteenth green. This\nwas the all-important match of the whole tournament, and in the light of\nwhat happened afterwards it was made to appear that the missing of this\nputt cost Mr. Graham the best chance he ever had in his hard and\ndeserving golfing lifetime of winning the blue ribbon of the game.\nMr. Robb himself fancied that Mr. Robert Andrew would be the ultimate\nwinner of the championship that time at Hoylake, but on the eighteenth\ngreen in one of his rounds Mr. Andrew missed a putt of less than a foot\nfor the match, and then had to go on to the nineteenth hole, where he\nwas a well-beaten man. And in the final tie of all, if Mr. Lingen had\nnever missed a short putt, who knows but what he would have been the\nchampion of the year after all?\n\nTherefore we may take it as established that the very greatest players\ncannot do the very shortest putts with anything approaching to\ncertainty, when it is of the very greatest importance that they should\ndo so. They are no better at this game than quite moderate players, and\nthe chances of their holing such putts decrease according to the\nimportance of the occasion--that is to say, the more necessary it is to\nhole the putt in order to promote one\u2019s success in the encounter in\nprogress, the less likely is one to do so. This is one of the\nfundamental principles of the thing. Anybody can hole a putt of four or\nfive feet when it doesn\u2019t matter, and when there is no particular credit\nin doing it. It is when it does matter that you cannot do it. The hole\nis 4\u00bc in. wide, and the ball is about 1\u00bd in. in diameter. You may use\nanything from an umbrella to a lawn-roller in order to putt that little\nball into that huge pit, and yet at that distance of three or four feet\nyou cannot do it--that is, as often as you ought to do. Training and\npractice are no use. Do not beginners always do these putts well? That\nis because they do not know how difficult they are. They will by and by,\nand then they will begin to miss them! At home I have a little baby\ngirl, and sometimes she gets one of my putters out of the corner, and\nbegs for the loan of a ball. Make a sort of hole on the carpet, or even\ngo out on to the lawn and play at a real hole in the real way, and that\nlittle thing will hole the putts of a yard and two yards every time! She\nnever bothers about any particular stance or anything of that kind, and\ntakes no count of the blades of grass or where she ought to be looking\nat the much-talked-of \u201cmoment of impact.\u201d She just putts, and down goes\nthe ball every time! It is wonderful, one of the most wonderful things\nin sport that I have ever seen! Here she does that, and we others who\nknow so much about these things, cannot do them--at least, not with the\nsame certainty.\n\nHere is another point. It may need only an exceedingly delicate stroke\nto putt a ball properly, yet if you take the clumsiest, horniest-handed\nlabouring man--say a road-mender or a railway navvy, who had never\neither seen or heard of golf before--he would never miss those three to\nfive feet putts. Again it is because he does not know how really\ndifficult they are. It is said that a mighty hunter of great renown, a\nman who had bagged all the big game of India in great variety, once\ndeclared in an agony, \u201cI have encountered all the manifold perils of the\njungle, I have tracked the huge elephant to his retreat, and I have\nstood eye to eye with the man-eating tiger.\u201d All of which was quite\ntrue--he had. Then he added, \u201cAnd never once have I trembled until I\ncame to a short putt.\u201d\n\nI have thought the matter out, and I suggest the reason. It is one of\nthe prettiest points in psychology that one will encounter in the whole\nof a long lifetime of the most careful thought and study. You don\u2019t\nreally want any mind at all for putting purposes. The whole thing is too\nsimple, and instead of a mind and brains being any use for the purpose\nin hand, they are a positive disadvantage, and are continually getting\nin the way.\n\n\nIII\n\nConsciousness is often fatal in putting, and it is the conscience making\na coward of the man that makes him miss his putt. To hole a three-feet\nputt over a flat piece of green is really one of the easiest things in\nthe world; there can be no doubt about it. But while there is one\nridiculously easy way of doing the putt, there are about a dozen more or\nless difficult ways of missing it, and these dozen are uppermost in the\nmind of the golfer when he comes to his effort. Thus the missing of the\nshort putt represents the greatest triumph of matter over mind that is\nto be found in the whole range of sport, or, so far as I know, in any\nother pursuit in life. But why should a man be given to these morbid\nthoughts of the ways of missing, and why should he not be of hopeful,\ncourageous disposition, and attack the hole boldly and with confidence,\ninstead of remembering these dozen ways of missing? That is what\nnon-golfers ask.\n\nIt is an easy question to set; but there is another factor in the\nsituation that has to be mentioned. There is the sense of\nresponsibility, and this sense of responsibility is probably greater in\na man when he is making a putt of from three to five feet than it is in\nthe case of any other man at any time in any other sport, because he\nwill never, never have the chance again that he has got this time. If he\nputts and misses, the deed is irrevocable, the stroke and the hole or\nthe half have been lost, and nothing that can happen afterwards can\nremove the loss. If a man makes a bad drive, or if his approach play is\nweak, he can atone for these faults by being unusually clever with the\nsubsequent stroke in the play to the hole, and he thinks he will. But\nthe short putt is the very last stroke in that play, and if it is missed\nthere is no possible atonement to be made. Thus there is something of\nthe awful, of the eternal, of the infinite about the putt; the man is\nawe-stricken; he knows it is easy, but he is conscious of those dozen\nways of missing. So he misses. I have put the question to a number of\nthe best-known players of the day as to what were their precise\nthoughts--if any--when they came to making the final putt of a great\nmatch, which in many cases gave them a championship. Their answer almost\nuniversally was that their thought was, \u201cWhat a fool I shall look if I\nmiss this putt!\u201d Thus they knew that they ought not to miss it, but they\nwere burning with consciousness of the fact that they were terribly\nliable to do so. So matter triumphs over mind.\n\n\nIV\n\nCan anything in a mechanical sort of way be done to overcome this awful\ndifficulty? I fear not, though one or two new putters are invented every\nweek, and some of them are acclaimed as being the philosopher\u2019s stone\nfor which we have been looking. The golf world began to buzz as if its\nmainspring had got loose when Mr. Travis won the championship at\nSandwich with that Schenectady putter--the most epoch-making putter of\nall. But where is it now? Very few people use it.\n\nPutters have been made of every conceivable shape and of every possible\nmaterial. Counting all variations, there are thousands of kinds of\nputters. They have been made with the heads bent back, forwards, and\nsideways. Some of them have had very thin blades, and others have had\nthick slabs instead of blades. They have been fashioned like knives,\nhammers, spades, croquet mallets, spoons, and riddles, and some even\nlike putters; and they have been made of iron, gun-metal, steel,\naluminium, nickel, silver, brass, wood, bone, and glass. I have here\nbeside me a putter made in nickel, and consisting of a large roller,\nrunning on ball bearings! It is no good. The simplest are the best. We\ncannot obtain will-power by machinery or mechanical appliances.\nMr. James Robb tells me that the putter he always uses is an ordinary\ncleek which he got when a boy. His sister won it in a penny raffle, and\nhaving no use for it herself she gave it to him, and he has putted with\nit ever since. Three times has he putted his way to the final of the\nchampionship, and once has he won it. Again, Mr. J. E. Laidlay conveys\nthe information to me that when he was a boy at Loretto School he came\nby the first golf clubs he ever had in his life in his second or third\nterm, these being a cleek and a brassey. That cleek-head has been his\nputter ever since, and it is getting so light with wear that his friends\nare beginning to tell him that it will soon do for him to shave with.\nHarry Vardon won his first championship with a putter which was not a\nputter at all, but a little cleek that he had picked up only the day\nbefore in Ben Sayers\u2019 shop at North Berwick. He fancied it as a putter,\nand he has never putted better than on that day at Muirfield. He has\nnever used it since, and now he has taken to the aluminium putter. And\ndo you know that just before the famous championship at Sandwich,\nMr. Travis was using a putting cleek that he, too, had got at North\nBerwick, and it was his intention to putt with it in the tournament? But\nhe was not putting very well in practice at St. Andrews, and one of his\ncompatriots then introduced to him for the first time in his life the\nSchenectady, which, after one successful trial, was forthwith\ncommissioned for Sandwich. What a subject for a great historical\npainting to be hung up in the Temple of Golf that we shall have some\nday--\u201cEmmett introducing the Schenectady to Travis, 1904.\u201d I think it\nwas Emmett; if it wasn\u2019t, then it was Byers. Anyhow, golf history was\nchanged in consequence of that introduction, for I am sure that\nMr. Travis would not have won at Sandwich with his North Berwick putting\ncleek. It wasn\u2019t the Schenectady that did it, but it was the player\u2019s\nthen confidence in the Schenectady. He had, for the time being, got that\nlittle devil of golf in chains, and putting had become a great joy.\n\n\nV\n\nGolf is a jealous sport, and often takes it ill when any of its patrons\ndevote their attention occasionally to other diversions of the open air,\nand exacts from them such a penalty in failures and aggravation when\nthey come back to their true love as is calculated to make them hesitate\nbefore committing further offences. Perhaps it is natural in a way that\ngolf, which has so much of wild nature about it, should be least\ninclined to brook the rivalry of games of the namby-pamby order. Fine\nfield sports such as shooting and fishing do not put you off your golf,\nin fact we have generally concluded that a few days\u2019 fishing sandwiched\nin a golfing holiday rather does good to your game. Perhaps it\nstimulates your thinking qualities, and if you are not reflecting upon\nthe other and the better way in which you might have played the\nseventeenth hole the day before, when you should be noticing the\nsignificant man\u0153uvres of something in the water, all is well. But a game\nthat golf cannot and will not tolerate acquaintanceship with upon any\nconsideration, is croquet. The royal and ancient one has decided\napparently that it will not recognise it in any way whatever, and that\nit will give a bad time to any golfer who potters about on a lawn with\nhoops and bells and wooden sledgehammers. And it does so. There is no\nmore sure way of disturbing your putting than an hour or two\u2019s croquet.\nThis putting poison is most deadly efficacious, and its effects\nsometimes last for a couple of days. The man has not yet been born who\ncan putt well after a game of croquet. Croquet is really putting, but\nputting with a big heavy ball after the style of a cannon ball, and it\nhas to be putted on a woolly green of rough grass in which a golf ball\nwould do something towards burying itself. Your accommodating eye and\ntouch soon become accustomed to the big ball and the mallet, and you\nbegin to putt through the hoops exceeding well, feeling then that you\nhold an advantage over others through usually having to manage a smaller\nball under more difficult circumstances. But the awkward part of the\nbusiness is that the eye and touch won\u2019t go back again so readily to\ntheir golfing adjustment, and while they are out of it some funny things\nare likely to happen. At such times the golf ball looks impossibly\nsmall, and, while one is overcome with the idea that it will need\nremarkably delicate management, one finds it impossible to wield the\nputter as it should be. Here is the story of a recent happening:\n\nA and B are keen rivals on the links--so keen that there is always great\nhaggling when it comes to adjusting the odds for a match, B usually\ngiving A three strokes. On the present occasion A informed B that he\nwould be glad to play him a match on the afternoon of the following day.\nB wanted to know why they could not make a full day of it and play in\nthe morning as well, but A pleaded that he had to take part in a\ntom-fool croquet match to which he was committed at the house where he\nwas staying. They settled the terms of the next afternoon\u2019s encounter at\nthe same time, and B said that as A would be playing croquet in the\nmorning he would be willing to give him five strokes. This was really\nfoolish of him; but no matter. A thought something, but said nothing.\nThe golf match was duly played on the following day, and, to the\nmortification of B, the croquetter putted like an angel the whole way\nround, won his match by 6 and 5, won the bye, and, holing a ten-yarder\nto wind up with, took the bye-bye as well. B was naturally in a most\nunhappy state of mind, and moaned that he had never before known a man\nto be able to putt after playing croquet, and that it was because of\nthis that he had given A two extra strokes on that dismal day. \u201cCroquet!\ncroquet!\u201d exclaimed A, \u201cbut I _haven\u2019t_ been playing croquet!\u201d B stood\naghast. \u201cYou _haven\u2019t_!\u201d he shrieked; \u201cthen what the dickens were you\ndoing this morning?\u201d \u201cOh,\u201d said A, \u201cI took the hint from what you said\nyesterday, and cried off the croquet match. I spent an hour instead in\npractising putting on the carpet, and stuffed the fire-irons underneath\nto make undulations!\u201d There are one or two very good morals in this\npathetic little story.\n\nIf you need to putt perfectly you should do nothing with your hands, and\nas little as possible with the remaining parts of your physical\nconstruction for a whole day beforehand. The fact is that everything\nputs you off your putting, but some things more than others, which is\nanother reason for that old saying that putting is the devil. An old\ngolfer has said that the ideal preparation for really fine putting is to\nlie in bed for twenty-four hours with your wife to feed you with a\nspoon. A few hours\u2019 penmanship is certainly fatal to one\u2019s putting, and\ntypewriting is worse. A man may depend upon it that if he goes in for a\nmotor-car and drives it, he will henceforth be about three or four\nstrokes worse on the greens than he used to be, which accounts for the\nanxiety of so many golfers to sell their new cars. And oh, that my best\ngolfing enemy would buy a motor-cycle! A player once told me that he\ncould not putt in the afternoon after having found it necessary to beat\nhis dog at lunch-time; and it has been observed to be quite a bad thing\nfor one\u2019s putting to use a walking-stick in one\u2019s ordinary\npedestrianism. The putting muscles and nerves are the most delicate,\nsubtle things in the whole of animal creation, and the pity is that\ncircumstances generally preclude their more careful preservation during\nthe periods in one\u2019s life when they are not needed for holing-out\npurposes.\n\n\nVI\n\nNow the society season is most alive. The golfing society--without a\ncourse of its own and consisting generally of men who have some other\ncommon interest, usually business or professional, apart from their love\nfor the game--is becoming an increasingly popular institution in the\nsouth, and some people who have had to find fault with the constitution\nand general scheme of such bodies, have now to confess that their\nprotests have been completely without avail, and that, for good or ill,\nthese combinations have settled permanently with us. Considering the\ncircumstances of the time and the great advance in the popularity of the\ngame, they must be regarded as a natural evolution. After all, those\npeople who regard the society as a kind of new-fangled notion and an\nundesirable development, need to have it pointed out to them that it is\nthe oldest kind of golf community, and that nowhere does it flourish\nmore than in the great Scottish centres of the game. For example, a\ngreat majority of the clubs of Edinburgh are not clubs at all, as the\nterm is understood in the south, but merely golfing societies, made up\noften of men with another common interest, and the only difference\nbetween them and the southern societies is that they have a public\ncourse to play upon and are dependent upon the kind favour of nobody for\nthe playing of the game; whereas in the south there are no public\ncourses, and the societies have necessarily to crave the permission of\nclubs for the courtesy of their greens on the days when they wish to go\nout to play their matches and competitions.\n\nPerhaps some day there will be public courses in the south on which the\nsocieties may play. On the other hand, it has been suggested that the\nsocieties combined are even now almost strong enough to obtain and keep\nup a course of their own. In these days the societies\u2019 subscriptions are\nseldom more than five or ten shillings, but the majority of members\nwould be agreeable to pay a guinea for the pleasures that they receive,\nand on such an increase it ought not to be a difficult matter to devise\nsome scheme for the establishment of a society course. Alternatively, it\nis suggested that the societies might do something towards giving a\nsubstantial financial backing to some club or other that is in a bad way\nin this respect, on the condition that they had the use of that club\u2019s\ncourse on midweek days for all genuine competitions and matches. Against\nthis it has to be considered that one of the charms of society golf, as\nit is conducted in the south at the present time, is the opportunities\nthat are given to members of visiting and playing over courses which are\nunfamiliar to them and which are not generally accessible, and of\norganising expeditions of members to these courses in the way of having\na good day out together. All those who have experienced this pleasure\nknow that it makes one of the most delightful variations from the\nordinary routine of a golfer\u2019s life.\n\nThere is no reason to suppose that clubs generally, or any club in\nparticular, are hostile to the society idea and practice, and we have\nnot yet heard of any case in which a club has declined permission to a\nsociety to play its match or competition on its course. So far from that\nbeing the case, the most important clubs of all, with the best courses,\nhave shown a marked amiability in the matter. Still, from time to time\nthere have been people who have suggested future difficulties, and even\nhinted at an abuse by societies in general of the good nature and\ncourtesy of the clubs; and in view of the fact that in two years from\nnow there will probably be ten societies for every two that are at\npresent in existence, just as even now there are about five times the\nnumber that there was two years since, it will be as well if the clubs\nthink the matter out and decide upon their policy, and, so far as they\nare able to do so, or regard it as politic, to announce it. When they do\ncome to consider the matter, they will do well to do so on the broad\nbasis of the common good, and to remember that an enormous factor in\nbringing about the increase in the popularity of golf, and in affording\nthe great delights that golfers of the present day derive from the game,\nhas been the principle of the community of interests which is generally\nagreed upon. When a man becomes a member of a \u201crecognised golf club\u201d in\nthese days, he becomes _ipso facto_ a kind of provisional member of all\nother golf clubs, that is to say, upon the payment of certain small fees\nand on a proper introduction--that of the secretary of his own club\nbeing commonly regarded as sufficient--he has some claim upon the\ncourtesy of any other club whose green he may like to visit. The members\nof a club that extends these privileges to strangers obtain those of a\nlike kind from other clubs, and thus to the individual player there is\nopened up the entire variety of all the golf in the country. How much\nwould our pleasure in the game be reduced if this variety were not\navailable, and we were compelled to play exclusively upon the courses of\nclubs of which we were full members!\n\nIn this matter we have the principle of the community of golfers\u2019\ninterests in full play, and it seems that the proper recognition of the\nsociety and its right to the privileges that it seeks will be only\nanother form of the same principle, and one scarcely less advanced than\nthat which obtains at present. For already a fair proportion of the\nmembers of a club are members also of one or other societies, and the\ntime is coming when it will be the exception for the club golfer not to\nbe a member of a society. When this time arrives, it will evidently be\nnecessary to apply this principle referred to, partly for the general\ngood and enjoyment, and partly because any club that did not, and that\nwithheld privileges to societies that were granted them by other clubs,\nwould place all its own members who belonged to such societies in a very\nunpleasant position. Two rules seem to be called for. The first is, that\nin order that this principle shall always act fairly, and that no man\nshall get what he is not in a sense entitled to, it shall be enacted\nthat each member of a society shall also be a member of a club in the\ndistrict in which the society chiefly carries on its operations. The\nsecond is, that in all cases of society visits to clubs\u2019 courses, full\ngreen fees shall be paid, and that in no pecuniary sense shall the\nsociety be under any obligation to the club. The whole question is\nreally one of very great importance, and those who are at the head of\nclub and society affairs would do well to be giving to it their serious\nconsideration, for nothing would be more unfortunate than the creation\nof any misunderstanding which might lead to trouble in the future.\n\n\nVII\n\nThe other day there was a little house-party of golfers for a week-end,\nand it was a most delightful gathering in all respects--fine weather, a\nrattling good seaside links, with putting greens that inspired the soul\nof the player to fine flights of genius, and a host of the very best\ngolfing type, in whom is embodied all the best traditions and\nsportsmanship of the game. Sternly contested singles in the morning of\nthe first day, with the yellow autumn sun shining and that pleasant nip\nin the air that braces the golfer to great efforts when he takes the\nwood out of his bag; a hard-fought foursome in the afternoon; and then\nas they dressed to go down for dinner on the evening of the first day,\nthey reflected upon the magnificent opportunities of the golfing life\nand the poor state of those who were not such as they were then. Dinner,\nthe glass of old port, piquant stories of the links and the recounting\nof brave deeds in fine matches, and then by and by the testing of\nvarious putting theories on the carpet--O! the happy, happy golfer.\n\nForty years upon the links had one by one only served to increase the\nhost\u2019s enthusiasm for the game of games. In all things he was the golfer\nfirst and the ordinary individual afterwards. Like all experienced\nplayers, he was inclined to be dogmatic and, as some would say,\nold-fashioned. But when you say that a golfer is old-fashioned you are\npaying him a very high compliment; you are placing his portrait in an\nexclusive gallery of the old masters of the game who built it up and\nendowed it with traditions such as are the envy of all others. The\nold-fashioned golfer nearly always belongs to the best type of the fine\nold English or Scottish gentleman. But this host had still original\nideas of his own, and sometimes within the walls of his own house he\nwill tell of them, or let them slip by accident, which he might very\nmuch fear to do when in the company of his colleagues of the Royal and\nAncient on the occasion of his bi-annual pilgrimages to St. Andrews. So\non the second morning, when the party was at breakfast and eager to\narrange the matches of the day, its curiosity was somewhat stirred by\nthe remark that he made to madame as she was lading the blue cups with\ntea, that last night he \u201cwent round in 78.\u201d The lady of the house nodded\nand smiled, asked sympathetically if he had had any luck at the short\nholes, and was assured that he had taken 3 to one and 4 to the other,\nbut had got his 78 by the aid of a grand--yes, by gad, a really corking\n3 at the last hole! On the whole, it was gathered he was driving well,\nbut his iron play was not all that it might have been--putting splendid.\nNow nothing had been heard before of any such fine performance as this,\nas surely there would have been if, as it appeared, it was of such\nrecent date. The company was stirred with a desire for knowledge as to\nthe when and the how, so that they might not be laggard in their\ncompliments upon the making of such an evidently pretty piece of golf. A\n3 at the eighteenth, too! If that was the same eighteenth the flag upon\nwhose putting green we could just see from the window now, it was a 3\nto be spoken of with admiration and profound respect. And so one at the\ntable murmured that they had a desire for knowledge upon this 78, which\nso evidently interested the chief, but he pooh-poohed the curiosity, and\nsaid that the recounting of that particular round would do better for a\nwet day than for a morning when all were so keen to be playing the real\ngolf. The \u201creal\u201d golf; so there was a qualification imparted to that\nround of 78, and now they would not be denied. Come! come! And so they\nhad the secret out.\n\nIt appeared that though he looked so well and hale, the chief was not\none of those happy beings who after their days upon the links go to rest\nat night and drop clean away into a dreamless sleep. There is usually a\npreliminary period of insomnia, which is an unpleasant relic of some\nhard times that he had abroad in the middle years of his life. It is an\neffort with him to \u201cdrop off,\u201d and many and various have been the\ndevices that in his time he has employed for wooing Morpheus to his\nnightly service. For a long time he played the old game of shepherdry.\nWhen the candle was extinguished and his head was laid upon the pillow,\nhe set up before him an imaginary hedge, a big thick hedge which divided\none large field from another, and in this hedge there was just one small\ngap through which one sheep could pass at a time, or two by squeezing\nwhen in a hurry. Why the sheep should be driven from one field into the\nother no man can say; but on countless nights by many poor sufferers\nfrom too much wakefulness, millions upon millions of sheep have been\ndriven through this same gap in the hedge. Through it they are hurried\nin their ones and twos in a seemingly never-ending line. There is no\nlimit to this flock, and it is of the essence of the trick that is being\nplayed against the enemy, insomnia, that the shepherd shall attend most\nstrictly to his duties, and never for a single moment shall let his\nthoughts wander to other and more real affairs. And so at last the\nactive brain gives way, and as the tail-end of one big sheep is seen\ndisappearing through the gap a thick haze comes down upon the fields,\nand the shepherd and his sheep are lost until the morning.\n\nThe chief was shepherd for some years, and it was only by the odd\naccident of dwelling fondly for a few minutes, as he laid himself down\nin bed, upon the fine things he had done in one great match that day\nthat he came by a change of nightly occupation. With the links laid out\nbefore him on the inner side of his eyelids, he played every shot again,\nand if the truth must be told, he played some of them twice, and in this\nway he proved to his own immense satisfaction that, soul-satisfying as\nhad been his play that day, his round was morally at least three strokes\nbetter than it had worked out. He played his round from the first tee to\nthe eighteenth green on the eyelid links once, and so pleasant was the\nplay that, like the gourmand golfer, he must needs play it again, shot\nby shot; and a third time he set out with his clubs. But this time he\nwas tiring. The two mental rounds that had gone before had told their\ntale, and he was constantly finding his wayward ball in the rough, and\nmaking sometimes fine recoveries with his iron clubs, and sometimes\ntaking two to get clear again. You see he always played the game.\nPerfection in golf is not given to any man, and even in the eyelid game\none must pull and slice at times, must now and again socket with the\nirons, and take one\u2019s eye off the little white ball. And so it happened\nthat at last the tired brain surrendered, and upon the fifteenth green,\nwith the match still unfinished--one up and three to go--he fell asleep.\n\nThenceforth the shepherdry was given up, and he took on the eyelid golf\ninstead. Two rounds he played every night, and every time he played the\ngame, refusing to allow himself things he had not clearly seen himself\ndo, and not taking unto himself the power of doing miracles or of always\nplaying the perfect golf. In that there would have been great monotony,\njust as there would be if we always played perfect golf in our real life\nupon the links. He never made a carry in this nightly imagination that\nhe had not made in daylight, never laid an iron shot dead, or holed a\nputt the like of which he had not done with real club and ball. Some\nnights he would be off his game, and his score would run far up into the\nnineties, and he would be badly beaten. On those nights he might go to\nsleep a little sooner than usual. On others he would be playing the best\ngame of his youth. In general he found the occupation much more pleasant\nand agreeable to his tastes than the shepherdry, and it is a curious\nthing, which one must believe since he said so, that these night rounds,\nwith all their thoughts and their minor anxieties, actually did\nsomething towards the improvement of the real game that was played in\nthe daytime. The player now and then obtained new and good ideas, and\nhe was taught to be a little more thoughtful than perhaps he had been in\nthe past. By and by the secret of this play became too much for him to\nkeep, so he unfolded the story of his eyelid games to the lady partner\nof his life, who, since the real service that they did to him was\nevident to her sympathetic mind, treated it with becoming seriousness.\nThis was the explanation of the 78 that was spoken of at breakfast-time\nthat morning, and in it there is a hint that might sometime prove of\nservice to those who, like the host of that week-end, are sometimes\ntroubled for want of that ability to loose their thoughts to sleep.\n\n\nVIII\n\nOne does not see St. Andrews at its best at a time of a championship, or\nat any other time when there are great crowds in the streets and on the\ncourses, and swarming round about the clubhouse and outside the shops of\nthe clubmakers overlooking the eighteenth green. It is not its natural\nself then; it is at its worst. I do not like it when the trippers pour\nin from Glasgow. One cannot resist the suspicion that many of them are\nnot as good golfers as they ought to be, and that they love St. Andrews\nfor what they save by her, being the only course in the world on which a\nman may play for nothing; with a kindly Corporation and a great club\nspending large sums of money upon it. To keep those marvellous greens in\ntheir fine state they employ a genius among greenkeepers, who is Hugh\nHamilton, who is the successor of Tom Morris, who was the successor of\nAllan Robertson. It may seem strange to some that the play should be\nmade without any charge, but St. Andrews would not be the same, and\nwould lose rather than gain in dignity, if it were not free. The time to\nsee it at its best is in the spring, and it is fine again in the late\nautumn, when the mere holiday-makers have gone back to their cities and\nworkshops.\n\nThe only time when a crowd is bearable at St. Andrews is on the autumn\nmedal day, and then, indeed, it is as if the tradition and the sanctity\nof the place are intensified. This surely is the great Celebration Day\nof golf. With its dignity, ceremony, tradition, crowds, and excitement,\nit is really very much like a Lord Mayor\u2019s Day. Old folks who may have\nnever played, wee bairns who are only just beginning to think they will\nplay when they can walk a little better, are all straining to excitement\nbecause it is the club\u2019s medal day, the day of the Royal Medal, and of\nthe captain\u2019s playing himself in, and of the firing of the guns. From\nnorth, south, east, and west--many of them from London--the members of\nthe Royal and Ancient Club foregather for the occasion. There is a\nhushed solemnity overhanging the place. Something is about to be done\nthat used to be done in the days of the grandfathers and the\ngreat-grandfathers, and the men on the links on this occasion feel\nthemselves to be the descendants--as often enough they are in blood--of\nthe great golfers of old who made the early chapters of the history of\nthe game.\n\nThe playing-in to the captaincy is a great ceremony, for this captaincy\nof the Royal and Ancient Club is the highest honour to be achieved in\nthe game. No man who is not of the highest character and of the greatest\ngolfing integrity is ever chosen for this high office. To be captain of\nthe club is quite comparable to being Lord Mayor of London. Amateur\nchampions have been captains, but no man may be captain because he has\nbeen amateur champion. It is an understanding that the captain shall win\nthe Silver Club, given by the club a century and a half ago, and the\nGold Medal, which was presented by Queen Adelaide in 1838, when she\nexpressed the wish that the captain would wear it on all public\noccasions, as he does at the club meetings; and to make sure of the\ncoincidence of the captaincy and the winning of these trophies it is\nordained by custom that the captain-elect shall have no opponents in the\nround that he is supposed to play; and, furthermore, to make his path to\nvictory as smooth and easy as possible, he is merely called upon to tee\nup his ball on the first tee in front of the clubhouse, to drive it off,\nand then he is supposed to have played his round and to have gained his\nvictory.\n\nThus this simple historic ceremony of teeing up and driving off for the\nSilver Club and the Royal Adelaide Medal is a great function. Crowds\ngather to witness it, and a line of men and boys is stretched out along\nthe course from the tee, often giving to the hero of the moment an all\ntoo narrow margin for error in his stroke. It is ordained that this\nceremony shall be performed at the exact stroke of ten o\u2019clock in the\nmorning, and when the hand of the clock on the clubhouse points to that\nhour a military person fires a small cannon on the foreshore\nand--crack!--the captain-elect drives his ball, and he thus advances to\nthe topmost height of honour. The boys rush for the ball, which, being\ngained by one of them, becomes an heirloom in his family. And then the\nreal competition begins at once, and the new captain may take part in it\nif he wishes. The prize now is the Gold Medal with the green riband,\nwhich was given by King William IV. in 1837. The King himself decreed\nthat it should be challenged and played for annually, and, writing from\nSt. James\u2019s Palace, he expressed \u201chis satisfaction in availing himself\nof this opportunity to evince his approbation of that ancient\ninstitution.\u201d Two by two the great golfers of the time go out to play\nfor it, and excitement is keen as the day wears on. The last couple\nhaving holed out on the eighteenth green, the cannon is fired again to\nindicate that for one more year the Royal Medal has been won and lost,\nand all is over so far as the outdoor proceedings of the meeting are\nconcerned.\n\nIn the evening is the feast, when the new captain achieves the full\nmeasure of his dignity. Hoary traditions surround his presidency at all\nmeetings. In days of old, in the century before last, captains were\nfined pints and magnums of claret for certain delinquencies. At this\nfeast the captain and ex-captains sit at the high table, in red coats,\nwith all the ancient insignia of the club laid out on the table before\nthem. Silver clubs are set there, to one of which each of all the long\nline of captains has fastened a silver ball, with his name and the date\nof his captaincy engraved upon it. The winner of the King William IV.\nMedal is toasted, and he is called up from his place that the captain\nwith solemn ceremony may invest him with the medal, hanging it round\nhis neck. Then, upon occasion, new members of this ancient club have\nbeen called up before the captain, who, holding one of the silver clubs\nbefore them, calls upon them to kiss it and to swear honour and\nobedience to the laws and customs of the club and the game. And then\ngreat golfers of the old school may sing old ballads, and an evening of\nhappiness goes on, and if there are no trains to be caught in the\nmorning, matches are made to-night. This is St. Andrews.\n\n\nIX\n\nThe sowing of seed upon a course may seem a dull business, and the\naverage golfer leaves the consideration of all such matters to those\nwhose duty it is to attend to them, and contents himself with his play\non the resulting turf; but in this indifference he misses much that is\ninteresting, and occasionally some most pleasant humours, as witness the\ntrue story of what happened on a suburban links. A very thorough club\nmanager had bought many bags of two different kinds of seed, which were\nto be used by an intelligent workman for the benefit of the course,\naccording to a scheme already devised and discussed. One kind of seed\nwas that which would produce long, thick grass of a very coarse\ncharacter, and which would grow with big and almost indestructible roots\nunder the very worst of circumstances. It was intended that this should\nbe sown under the many trees that abounded on the course. It was not\nonly to be grass that would thrive under the most disadvantageous\ncircumstances, but it was meant also to be \u201crough,\u201d which might some day\ndo something to stimulate the power of language among those golfers who\njust now might play from underneath the branches of those trees with\ntheir putters. The other seed was that which would make grass of the\nvery finest texture. It needed a delicate, well-groomed soil for its\nsustenance, and its prime object was to produce putting greens that\nwould give great joy to golfers on their game.\n\nSo the contents of some bags were to be scattered underneath the trees,\nand the contents of the others were to be spread over the putting\ngreens, and the manager rested and refreshed himself with tea while\nthis, as he thought, was being done, and he talked pleasantly to me of\nthe various excellences of the course and the way in which difficulties\nof soil and situation had been conquered. And then there broke in upon\nus an emissary from the man who had been sowing the seed, who came to\nsay, \u201cPlease, sir, there\u2019s been a sort of accident happened, and it\u2019s\nlike as William has been and mistaken and gone and planted the putting\ngreen seed under them trees, and he\u2019s planted the seed as\u2019ll make the\nlong grass on some of the putting greens. And we want to know, sir, what\nwe must do!\u201d What, indeed?\n\n\nX\n\nWhen October comes we bid her a very loyal and joyful welcome, for we\nhave come to regard her as the queen of months for golf. No soul so\nserene as that of the golfer as he tees the ball on a bright October\nmorning. It sometimes seems to us of the links that we are glad of every\nchange in the seasons. When it is spring, we look forward to the coming\nof summer, and then we sigh for the autumn, and in turn are glad even to\nsink back to the adventures and trials of the heroic golf that we are\ncalled upon to play in the winter-time. And yet it is seldom through\ndiscontent that we thus anticipate the changing of the seasons, but\nrather that we, as golfers, do so highly appreciate the glorious variety\nwhich is afforded to us by the system of Nature. Constantly happy in our\ngame, while we are playing it, the season is for the moment forgotten,\nand it is only in the intervals of holes or rounds that we are roused to\nthe eternal transformation that is proceeding.\n\n   \u201cWith thee conversing I forget all time;\n    All seasons and their change, all please alike.\u201d\n\nBut there is nothing sweeter than the bright October morning on the\nlinks. A fragrant smell of moist earth rises up, and it is as if that\nvery scent is a rare stimulant to the golfer after the heat of summer.\nThere is a fine spring in the turf as we tread upon it, and, quite\nrevelling in it, we find that we must needs go tripping light-heartedly\nalong the links until the problems of the play at a couple of holes have\nsobered us down. We like even to see the dewdrops lingering on until\nstarting time, taking advantage of the laggard autumnal sun. The film of\nmist that is hanging a few holes out, and the suspicion of a nip in the\nair, are fine. And then there are the glorious tints of autumn, the\nyellows and the crimsons and the browns, blended as only one Artist\nknows how to blend them, and, amidst the happiness of it all, the\npathos of the scene comes in upon us as we listen to the faint crackle\nof falling leaves. The heart of every golfer is touched by all these\nchanges, for whatever may have been his previous disposition and his\ntastes in life, each one becomes in time something of a Nature lover,\nand acquires a knowledge and interest in some of the simpler features of\nher work. For, of all games, golf is the game which is most closely\nallied with simple Nature. A little ball, a stick, a small hole, and the\nopen country at her wildest and roughest, and there you have your golf.\nThen what is deeper than the soul\u2019s content of the golfer when he\nfinishes the afternoon round just as the red sun is dipping away to\nother lands, and by the time he and his clubs are cleaned, the twilight\nis already changing into the evening gloom, and the thing that it seems\nbest to do is that which is one of the happiest in the golfer\u2019s day,\nwhich is to sit by a bright fire and talk with one\u2019s enemy of the links\nof all the good and the bad golf that has been played since the morning.\nCome night, we have had our day, and this talk by the fire, while the\nwhite mists gather again upon the links outside, is yet more cheering to\nthe heart of the golfer than all the evenings of summer.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PROFESSOR ON THE LINKS\n\n\nI\n\n\u201cThe problem of the golf ball\u2019s flight is one of very serious\ndifficulty.\u201d That is what was said to a gathering of savants by\nProfessor Peter Guthrie Tait, one of the most brilliant scientists of\nthe latter part of the last century, and the only man who has probed\ndeeply into the real science of the game of golf. He was a wonderful man\nin many respects. He applied his marvellous scientific knowledge and\npowers of investigation to everything that came his way. One day he\nwould be extracting cube roots from the most unsuspected quarters, and\nanother he would be analysing the character and formation of the ripples\non the surface of a viscous liquid. A few flourishes of the knife\nof science, a sharp explosion with one of his specially prepared\n_formul\u00e6_--consisting of the most wonderful combinations of the \u03bd\u2019s, the\n\u03b3\u2019s, the \u03c4\u2019s, and the \u03c6\u2019s--and the common but stubborn thing of everyday\nlife was made to yield up its innermost secrets, so that thenceforward\nit was regarded in a quite different way from that which it had been in\nthe past.\n\nNothing was sacred from the application of the Professor\u2019s science, and\ngolf was not; but to the credit of the game be it said that some of its\nscientific problems baffled this great man of science as nothing else\nthat he had ever tackled before so seriously had done. He spent weeks,\nmonths, and even years, in occasional periods, upon it; he employed the\nmost intelligent men of science with marvellous powers of reckoning as\nhis assistants, he bombarded the game with the most terrible _formul\u00e6_\nthat even he had ever invented; but golf still held the upper hand and\nretained some of its secrets, while it often smiled derisively at the\nProfessor when it had sent him a long way along a false path. The\nProfessor would not give up. He returned always to the attack, and golf\nand he came to closer grips. He did, indeed, obtain many wonderful\nsecrets from its possession, and he found out more about it--all of it\nvery wonderful and very interesting--than any man had ever done before,\nor possibly ever will do again. Now and again he told his learned\nbrethren of the difficult nature of the task that he had entered on.\nBefore he died he had found out most things, but golf still held some\nsecrets from him.\n\nMany of the things that he knew, and the way in which he found them out,\nwere never published to the golfing world. He issued one or two papers\nof a quite popular character, and very elementary; but they did not\ncontain a tithe of what he had discovered or say how he had discovered\nit. Here we will try to tell the golfer a little of what the Professor\nfound out about the things that happen when the ball is driven from the\ntee. They will interest him, and perhaps cause him some surprise. Only\nthose conclusions will be given which he proved beyond question, and the\ntruth of them must generally be taken for granted, as it may be safely,\nsince the professor\u2019s lines of study would take a volume to expound\nwith any lucidity, and even then a considerable scientific knowledge on\nthe part of the reader would first of all be necessary.\n\n\nII\n\nIt should be said that, while the Professor played a little golf\nhimself, and was much in love with St. Andrews as a resort, what led him\nin the first place to make his investigations was watching the play of\nhis famous golfing son, Fred Tait. A few idle, fanciful conjectures on\nthe flight of the ball that was sent skimming through the air from\nFreddie\u2019s driver led to a more serious calculation, and then, like a\nsiren, the great mystery of golf drew him on. But early in his\ninvestigations he committed himself to the statement that nobody could\ndrive a golf ball that would have a carry of more than 180 or 190 yards\nwithout exerting at least three times the strength that is generally\nexerted by a strong man when driving; that is to say, that a carry of\nsuch distance was practically impossible. But this statement was no\nsooner before the public than young Fred proved the fallacy of it, by\ncelebrating his twenty-third birthday by driving a record ball which had\nconsiderably more carry than that.\n\n\u201cStuff! Humbug!\u201d said the Professor; but the fact was there, and when\nthe golf world came to know about it, they asked the Professor what was\nthe use of all his calculating--and to this day that error is chiefly\nwhat is remembered by the general public about his investigations. This\nincident may have been largely responsible for the fact that thereafter\nhe only once or twice let the golfers into the secrets of what he was\ndoing and had found out, reserving the story of his investigations for\nlearned bodies who were most closely concerned about them.\n\nThe mistake that he made, which was exposed to him by his son, set him\nout on a new line of thought, and showed him vaguely where his error\nwas, though not the nature of it. And the discovery which he made at the\noutset was a startling one, and it may cause some astonishment to the\nplayer of to-day who will reflect upon it for a moment. The steadiest,\nmost constant, and most persistent force with which we are generally\nacquainted is the force of gravity. It is always there; it acts\nunceasingly upon everything. To defeat gravity, therefore, is almost for\na while to suspend the working of Nature. Suddenly it burst upon the\nmind of the Professor that the golf ball was made as it were to defeat\ngravity, and so in a sense it does. He found this out by observing the\ntime of flight of the ball, and discovering that it was nearly twice as\nlong as it ought to be, if gravity had free and unfettered play. This is\nto say, that if gravity were allowed to act in the usual way on the ball\nfrom start to finish, as it acts on other things, it was quite\ninevitable by all the laws of nature and science that a drive of\n200 yards would be completed in three and a half seconds. If a man threw\na ball so as to describe as nearly as possible the same trajectory as a\ngolf ball, and to stop at the same spot, it would only take three and a\nhalf seconds. But the golf ball takes six and a half seconds! Somehow or\nother it was clear that gravity was being beaten all the way. If it were\nnot so, it would be impossible for the golf ball to remain in the air\nso long while it was accomplishing such a short flight. That was the\ngreat mystery that the professor had to solve, and he solved it at last.\nIt may be said here, in passing, and will be more fully explained\nanother time, that he found out that it was due to the rotation given to\nthe ball by the club, and the nature of the stroke when it was struck\nfrom the tee, a rotation which in many ways was responsible for some\nmost extraordinary happenings; all of which the golfer will be a much\nwiser man for having knowledge of. But before he could go thoroughly\ninto the mystery of this rotation he had to make many other preliminary\ninvestigations, and some of the results of these may be quoted.\n\nOne of the Professor\u2019s first efforts was in the direction of finding out\nthe speed with which the ball left the club; and it was a long\ntime--years, in fact--before he came to any definite understanding on\nthe point; so difficult did he find the investigation, despite all the\nexperiments he made, the _formul\u00e6_ that he applied to them, and the\nscientific instruments that he brought to bear on the problem. He had a\nvery capable observer, Mr. T. Hodge, making examinations of the flight\nof balls driven in actual play at St. Andrews, by the help of the\ninstrument known as the Bashforth Chronograph, with which the speed of\nbullets is measured; and, what with the results arrived at in this way\nand others, he came to the conclusion that the initial speed of the ball\nwas over 500 feet a second, which speed, of course, was lost very\nquickly as the resistance of the air was encountered.\n\nWith this as his starting-point, he made many deductions; but\nsubsequently he found that he was wrong in the original assumption.\n\nA vast number of calculations and experiments followed. In a cellar he\nconstructed a complicated pendulum arrangement, to the bob of which\nthere was attached a large screen with a thick clay surface, and against\nthis he got several well-known golfers to drive their hardest, and made\nthe most minute calculations as to the effect upon the pendulum. The\nclay was scattered in all directions, damage was done, and the golfers\ncomplained that under such circumstances they were not able to drive\ntheir best. The pendulum and the strangeness of the whole arrangement\n\u201cput them off.\u201d Some time afterwards he constructed an improved\npendulum, the clay screen being fixed on to lengths of clock spring, and\nwhen this was placed in a doorway the golfers were again set to drive at\nit.\n\nWhat with one thing and another the Professor at last came to the final\nand definite conclusion, that the ball started from the club at a speed,\nin the case of a good drive, of about 240 feet a second, but that in the\ncase of exceptional balls it sometimes was as much as 300 or even\n350 feet per second. This, of course, was with the gutta ball; and the\nresiliency and initial speed of the rubber-cored ball being certainly\nmuch greater, it is fair to believe that the average initial speed of a\nwell-driven ball in these days is quite 300 feet a second; or, to put it\nin another way, over two hundred miles an hour. Great as this speed\nappears, it might be mentioned incidentally that the muzzle velocity of\na bullet from a Maxim gun is generally about 2000 feet a second, or\nabout seven times as fast.\n\n\nIII\n\nWhile he was at work on these reckonings he dispelled one fallacy,\nwhich, notwithstanding, is commonly held by golfers to the present day.\nMost players think that when driving and following through well the ball\nhangs on the face of the club, as it were, for long enough for the club\nto do something in the way of guiding it. How brief is the time in which\nthe actual stroke is made for good or ill was proved conclusively in a\nvery striking manner, and that time was set down--the whole time of\nimpact--as that in which the club, moving at 300 feet a second, passed\nthrough about four times the linear space by which the side of the ball\nwas flattened. Putting this space down, nowadays, at about \u215b in., and\nreckoning the time that it would take the club going at the speed\nindicated to cover that small distance, we have the fact that the\nduration of impact is only about 1/7000th of a second, and that that is\nthe whole time that the golfer has for the guiding of the ball! As the\nProfessor said, \u201cthe ball has, in fact, left the club behind before it\nhas been moved through more than a fraction of its diameter\u201d; and in the\ncase of the gutta, with the smaller extent to which it flattened on the\nclub, he came to the conclusion that the duration of impact was far less\nthan that which has just been mentioned.\n\nIncidentally in this connection he took occasion to expose another of\nthe golfer\u2019s fallacies as to the effect of wind on the flight of the\nball, in the following words: \u201cIt is well to call attention to a\nsingularly erroneous notion very prevalent among golfers, namely, that\na following wind carries a ball onwards! Such an idea is, of course,\naltogether absurd, except in the extremely improbable case of wind\nmoving faster than the initial speed of the ball. The true way of\nregarding matters of this kind is to remember that there is always\nresistance while there is relative motion of the ball and the air, and\nthat it is less as that relative motion is smaller, so that it is\nreduced throughout the path (of flight) when there is a following wind.\nAnother erroneous idea somewhat akin to this is that a ball rises\nconsiderably higher when driven against the wind, and lower if with the\nwind, than it would if there were no wind. The difference (whether it is\nin excess or deficit will depend on the circumstances of projection,\nnotably on the spin) is in general very small; the often large apparent\nrise or fall being due mainly to perspective as the vertex of the path\nis brought considerably nearer to or farther from the player.\u201d\n\nAnd Professor Tait was led to make a definite pronouncement on the\nparticular kind of weather in which a ball will fly best and farthest.\nWhat golfers do not generally realise is that the atmospheric resistance\nto the flight of their ball is much greater than in simple proportion to\nits speed; it is as the square of the speed. This is to say, that if one\nball is driven twice as fast as another to begin with, the resistance to\nthat ball is four times as great as it is to the slower one. It is this\nfact which makes it so difficult to get extra length, beyond a good\nlength, on to a ball, no matter what improvements are made in the ball.\nTherefore, on the weather question the Professor set it down that, \u201cOf\ncourse, other circumstances being the same, the only direct effect is on\nthe co-efficient of resistance. If this be taken as proportional\n(roughly) to the density of the air, it may vary, in this climate, to\nsomewhere about 10 per cent. of its greatest value, and the drive is\naccordingly shortest on a dry, cold winter day with an exceptionally\nhigh barometer. The longest drive will, of course, be when the air is as\nwarm and moist as possible, and the barometer very low.\u201d\n\nBut he probed most deeply into the mysteries of the flight of the golf\nball when he came suddenly to understand the rotation which was\nsubjected to it by the club, and it is of interest and importance to\nevery golfer that he should understand it also. The starting-point of\nthe wonderful investigations that he made is contained first in the\nsimple fact that when an object is poised in the air there is equal\natmospheric pressure upon it at all points; and second, that, as several\nof the most eminent scientists before him, from Newton onwards, had\nfound out, when a sphere rotates in a current of air the side of the\nsphere which is advancing to meet the current is subject to greater\npressure than is that which is moving in the direction of the current;\nand a step further in this argument is that, as the result of this extra\npressure, if a spherical ball be rotating, and at the same time\nadvancing in still air, it will deviate from a straight path in the same\ndirection as that in which its front side is being carried by the\nrotation.\n\nTherefore, when a ball is sliced, it is made to spin round so that its\nfront side moves round constantly to the right, and, in accordance with\nthe law just mentioned, there is a greater atmospheric pressure on the\nleft side than on the right, and, consequently, the ball is pushed away\nto the right--as we see it. When it is pulled, the spin is in the\nopposite direction, and the extra pressure is from the right, and so it\nis sent away to the left. When the ball is topped the spin on the front\nside is downwards, and the ball ducks--the extra pressure this time\nbeing in the same direction as gravity; and when under-cut is applied,\nand under-spin follows, the front side of the ball is spinning upwards,\nand the extra pressure is from below and against gravity.\n\nWhen this conclusion was first briefly stated, golfers resisted the\nsuggestion that when driving they imparted any under-spin to the ball;\nbut the Professor stuck to his point, and proved it beyond doubt, and it\nis in this way that the ball takes six and a half seconds over its\nflight instead of the three and a half that it would otherwise do; and\nhe proved, moreover, that if there was no under-spin imparted to it when\ndriving it would only travel about half the distance that it usually\ndoes. The greater the under-spin the greater the upward pressure, and\nthis conclusion leads to others very interesting.\n\n\nIV\n\nGolfers are in the way of saying that this ball \u201cflies well\u201d or that the\nother ball \u201cdoes not fly well.\u201d Sometimes it is imagination born of lack\nof form; but when great players concur it is not imagination. Some balls\nare obviously better than others--made of better material, better\nelastic thread, and more carefully constructed. There is an evident\nreason why such balls should fly better than others; that is to say,\nwhy they should go off the club more quickly, keep their place in the\nair longer, and travel farther. But then there are many balls of\nabsolutely first-rate quality--and maximum price--that vary considerably\nin their flying properties, and it very commonly happens that even balls\nout of the same box, made at the same time and in the same way and of\nthe same stuff, vary also. One frequently finds one or two \u201cbad\u201d balls\nin a box, and one or two very good ones. The excellent player very soon\nknows when he has come by the good ones and the bad ones. Now why, under\nsuch circumstances, should these balls vary so? What is it that makes\nthem vary? Golfers in general do not know. Often enough they put it down\nto \u201cpure cussedness\u201d; others, to an idea that it is due to some\naccidental flaw in the manufacture. It is neither the one nor the other.\n\nThe scientific explanation is really a very simple one, and it was set\nforth very lucidly by Professor Tait. The perfect ball--using the\nadjective in its most absolute sense--is that which has its centre of\ngravity, that is to say its centre of weight, dead in the centre of the\nball, the centre of measurement. It is by no means to be assumed that\nthese two centres must necessarily coincide. For them to do so exactly\nis an ideal state, and while matter and man are what they are, and\nsubject to their constant, even though slight, deviations, it is\nunattainable. But when a ball is properly cored and properly covered,\nmost carefully and by the most exact machinery, the two centres come\nvery near together, and generally, to all intents and purposes, do\ncoincide. That they do not always do so exactly is merely because the\ngreatest human effort is incapable of achieving the scientific ideal,\nand it must constantly happen that, despite all that effort, the\ndistances between the two centres vary a little. Practically no effort\ncan prevent it, particularly when the exigencies of circumstances demand\nthat balls should be turned out weekly in tens of thousands, and at a\nprice of not more than two shillings each. Now and again the separation\nof the centres will be greater than normal--accidental again--and then\nyou get a really bad ball, with much bias upon it. When the centre of\nweight is not at centre of measurement, it means that the ball in effect\nis heavier on one side than the other, biassed, and that is practically\nequal to its being not round. Suppose you inserted a small piece of lead\njust inside the cover of a ball and closed it up again, shaping it as\nperfectly as it was before. The effect of this would be to remove the\ncentre of weight very far towards that side, and you would have a great\nexaggeration of the difference between the two centres that commonly\nexists. If you laid that ball on a table it would promptly roll round\nuntil the weighted or biassed side were underneath. If you floated it in\nwater it would wobble about until eventually it did the same thing; and\nif you floated it in air it would wobble again, and such wobbling would\nobviously be detrimental to its straight and even flight. There you have\nit. The farther the two centres are from each other--from the ideal\nstate of absolute coincidence--the greater must be the tendency towards\na wobbly or uneven flight, and diminished rotation, and consequently\ntowards a short flight. In the case of many balls other than golf\nballs, these variations are very considerable. You have an extreme\nexample when a football is out of shape, and it can be seen to make\nzigzags in the air. But the flight of footballs, or even cricket balls,\nis not such a delicate and susceptible thing as the flight of a golf\nball at its far greater pace.\n\nProfessor Tait pointed out two very simple ways of finding out whether a\ngolf ball had its two centres approximately coincident, and whether in\nconsequence it ought to and would fly well. The first was by floating it\nin a bath of brine or mercury and noticing whether it wobbled or turned\nover. Many golfers are acquainted with this test, and employ it in a\ncruder and less decisive form by floating the ball in water. While a\nball that had a fairly considerable separation between its two centres\nmight not show any wobbling movement when floated in water, and\nconsequently might not completely establish its claim to be properly\ncentered and of good flying capacity so far as this part of its\nproperties was concerned, the presumption would be greatly in its\nfavour. On the other hand, that which did show any perceptible wobble in\nwater would be self-condemned at once, and would undoubtedly be a bad\nflyer and a danger to the game of the good golfer.\n\nThe second test is one of comparison, and is exceedingly simple. You\ncannot compare the flying capacities of two or more balls by driving\nthem with golf clubs, for however near to exact similarity you may think\nthe strokes to have been, there is certain to have been an appreciable\nscientific and mathematical difference, such as would make a proper\ncomparison impossible. But you may give practically exactly the same\ninitial impetus in exactly the same circumstances to two or more balls\nby shooting them in the same direction from a crossbow, when the string\nis always pulled out to exactly the same point. Here you will have the\nballs flying under the simplest possible conditions, with no spin to\ncomplicate the flight and interfere with the comparison, and anyone who\ntakes the trouble to make this experiment will find that some balls will\nregularly fly farther than others when shot forward in this manner. If\nthe size and the weights are the same, these balls are better centered\nand better flyers, and it is an easy matter for any player to establish\na standard by this test, and to judge of the perfection of any\nparticular ball at a moment\u2019s notice. Of course such a test takes no\naccount of the resiliency of the ball; but then, as every player knows,\nthere is a clear difference between good resiliency and good flying\nproperties. In the old days of the gutta, when so much depended upon the\neven quality of the material all through the ball--and these were, of\ncourse, the days when Professor Tait made his investigations and\nexperiments, and drew his conclusions--the variations between centres\nwere greater than they are now, though not so great as in the early\nperiod of the rubber-core, when the winding and covering machinery were\nimperfect. Rubber-cored balls have lately begun to be covered by winding\nvery thin strips of the covering material round the core in just the\nsame way that the core itself is wound, and this should greatly conduce\ntowards more accurate centering. An understanding of the foregoing will\nhelp the player towards an appreciation of some of the chief points of a\ngood ball, and he will see how extreme is the necessity for perfect\nwinding machinery and for the most careful supervision of the process.\nNobody calls for a hand-made ball in these days: he wouldn\u2019t get it if\nhe did; and it wouldn\u2019t be any good if he got it, for the chances would\nbe enormously against its being so well centered as one made by\nmachinery.\n\n\nV\n\nNow, however good the ball might be, the chances would be against a\nperfect stillness upon any axis during flight; that is, of course, when\nno initial spin was imparted to it by the way in which the stroke was\nplayed. It would very likely turn just a little upon an axis, and that\nlittle would unsteady and injure its flight, inasmuch as the wobble\nwould be from side to side alternately. This difficulty can be got over\nby imparting an initial spin to the ball which will always be the same\nall through its flight, and which will thus stop the wobbling. In a\nword, rotation will steady the flight. This idea was originally at the\nbottom of the rifling of the barrel through which a bullet is projected;\ncertainly it was the fundamental principle of the rifling of the old\n32-pounders. Better to make the ball rotate on an axis that you know\nabout than that it should wobble on one you do not know about, they\nsaid; and so the tubes were rifled inside, the balls were made to\nrotate, and their flight was made steadier and therefore longer.\n\nIn the very earliest days of his investigations upon the flight of the\ngolf ball, Professor Tait thought of the application of this idea to the\ngame. A rotation should be given to the ball to steady its flight and\nmake it longer. A moment\u2019s thought on the part of those whose\nrudimentary scientific knowledge is a little rusty, will indicate that\nthere are three definite and clearly distinguished axes of rotation. One\nis a vertical one, and it is chiefly upon that axis that the golf ball\nrotates when it is pulled or sliced, or upon an axis that has something\nof the vertical element in it. Then there is the horizontal axis, which\nis at right angles to the line of flight; and this is the axis upon\nwhich it rotates when either under-spin or top has been applied to it.\nAnd, thirdly, there is the horizontal axis, which is parallel with the\nline of flight. This is the axis upon which the rifle bullet spins. At\nfirst Professor Tait was inclined to the idea that the last-named would\nbe the ideal axis for the rotation of the golf ball, but it happens to\nbe the one upon which it is impossible to make it rotate when struck by\na golf club. However, in this detail of his preliminary theorising he\nwas wrong, due entirely to his not having then investigated the virtues\nof under-spin as always given to a ball when well driven, and not having\ncome by the great discovery that this under-spin helped the ball to\nresist gravity and prolong its flight as nothing else could. How exactly\nunder-spin does this, we have just seen, and readers will now have a\nvery definite perception of the qualities of a ball and the importance\nof rotation, and though the chief advantage of rotation is in resisting\ngravity, it is an incidental advantage of it, as will now be understood,\nthat the flight of the ball is thereby steadied, and a very slight\ninaccuracy in centering made of less consequence than it would otherwise\nbe. But remember that a considerable inaccuracy in centering will\ninterfere with the rotation, and therefore the bad flying ball can\nstill be distinguished, because it will fly badly.\n\n\nVI\n\nNow, in continuation of this brief and simple exposition of some of the\npoints of the Professor\u2019s theorising--backed up by constant practical\nexperiment--upon the merits of under-spin in prolonging and lengthening\nthe flight of the ball which created excited comment in the world of\ngolf at the time, much smaller as that world was then than it is now, it\nmay be mentioned that it was his fair conclusion that good driving lay\nnot in powerful hitting, but in the proper apportionment of good hitting\nwith such a knack as would give the right amount of proper spin to the\nball. Thus, while a player who gave no spin to his ball might attain a\ncarry of 136 yards, another one who hit his ball with just the same\nforce, giving it the same initial speed, but also a moderate amount of\nunder-spin, would get a carry of 180 yards. Of course there would be a\ngreat difference between the trajectories of the two flights. By an\nexperiment on a small scale he showed very conclusively what under-spin\ndid. By shooting a ball from a very weak bow, but with the string just\nbelow the middle of the ball, so as to impart a slight spin, he made the\nball fly point blank to a mark thirty yards off. When he drew the string\nto the same distance, but applied it to the middle of the ball, it fell\neight feet short. It had no under-spin the second time.\n\nAnother point is extremely interesting. Some golfers no doubt think\nthat in driving they have to cock their balls up in the air, so to\nspeak; that is to say, that they have to aim at an upward trajectory\nfrom the beginning. As a matter of fact they have to do nothing of the\nkind, and as a matter of common knowledge the best balls, as driven by a\nVardon or a Braid or any other first-class player, always \u201cstart low\u201d\nand keep a path quite close to the ground for some distance, after which\nthey begin to rise. If there were no under-spin the ball could not keep\nthis horizontal path for the time that it does; still less could it\nbegin to rise afterwards. It is the under-spin that does it, and the\ntheoretically perfect drive is the one that is hit straight forward with\npractically no initial elevation or incline. The character of the stroke\ngives to the ball the necessary under-spin and power to rise, and the\nway in which the club comes on to the ball in a stroke so perfectly\nexecuted makes any considerable initial elevation impossible, just as it\nis not wanted. But mark, that if the golfer has not acquired the proper\nknack of driving--_i.e._ the proper knack of imparting just the right\nkind and right amount of underspin--then he will need some initial\nelevation in order to keep his ball in the air; and so he has to depart\nintentionally from the proper principles of driving, and deliberately\ncock up his ball, even though slightly. How his driving suffers in\nconsequence may be gathered by taking the extreme case of no under-spin\nat all, upon which Professor Tait says: \u201cWhen there is no rotation there\nmust be initial elevation, and even if we make it as great as one in\nfour, the requisite speed of projection for a carry of 250 yards would\nbe 1120 feet per second, or about that of sound.\u201d Now, as the actual\nspeed of projection in the case of a fine drive by a first-class player\nis not more than 350 feet per second, the reader may have some idea as\nto how hard he would have to hit if he were dispensing with rotation. Of\ncourse \u201ca carry of 250 yards\u201d is extremely long, and is rarely if ever\ndone in the absence of a helping wind from behind, but the Professor had\njust been speaking of the practicability of such a carry \u201cin still air.\u201d\nEven though it be abnormal, the vast disparity between an initial speed\nof the ball of 350 feet per second and one of 1120 feet will make the\npoint clear.\n\n\nVII\n\nThe most interesting question arises, that if the well-driven ball\nstarts off almost horizontally and then begins to ascend, what is the\nline of its flight or its trajectory? Golfers generally have the crudest\nnotions on this point. For the most part they seem to assume that the\ntrajectory is represented by an even segment of a circle, having its\nvertex or highest point just about half-way along. This is absolutely\nwrong. Even if there were no spin at all, this would not be the case,\nthe vertex being much nearer the end of the flight than the beginning of\nit, as in the case of the rifle bullet. On the other hand, many players\non seeing a ball well driven constantly remark on what they think is\nafter all a fancy of theirs, that when the ball has gone a long way it\nsuddenly seems to take a new lease of life, and to rise up in the air\nbefore moving down towards earth. They will be surprised to know that it\nis not fancy, that the ball does rise. The fact is that the line of\nflight of a well-driven ball with under-spin, from its starting to its\nhighest point, is partly concave upwards, and this fact is only evident\nto the eye when it has travelled some distance. Such a ball is in effect\nthe pull or the slice turned round from the flat in an upward direction.\nEventually gravity gets the better of the ball and pulls it down.\n\nWith the help of the _formul\u00e6_ that he prepared after several years\u2019\nstudy of the matter, and with the assistance of Mr. Wood, whom he\nregarded as the quickest and most accurate reckoner of abstruse\nscientific quantities that he had ever encountered, the professor\ncalculated exactly the trajectories of golf balls driven under many\ndifferent circumstances. Among them he showed the short line of the\nflight of a ball to which no initial rotation or under-spin was\nimparted. While the other balls were started off almost horizontally, it\nwas necessary in this case to give the ball an initial elevation of\n15 degrees--that is to deliberately hit it upwards at that angle--in\norder to make it rise at all. Regarding this trajectory Professor Tait\nsaid most significantly that it is \u201ccharacteristic of a well-known class\nof drives, usually produced when a too high tee is employed, and the\nplayer stands somewhat behind his ball. Notice particularly how much the\ncarry and time of flight are reduced, though the initial speed is the\nsame. The slight under-spin makes an extraordinary difference,\nproducing, as it were, an unbending of the path throughout its whole\nlength, and thus greatly increasing the portion above the horizon.\u201d The\nrun of this ball on alighting is greater than in the other cases, owing\nto there being no backspin, but it cannot make up for the short flight.\n\nConcerning another short drive of the same class, Professor Tait\nremarks: \u201cIn spite of its 50 per cent. greater angle of initial\nelevation, the carry of the non-rotating projectile is little more than\nhalf that of the other, and it takes only one-third of the time spent by\nthe other in the air. But the contrast shows how much more important (so\nfar as carry is concerned) is a moderate amount of under-spin than large\ninitial elevation. And we can easily see that initial elevation, always\nundesirable (unless there is a hazard close to the tee), as it exposes\nthe ball too soon to the action of the wind where it is strongest, may\nbe entirely dispensed with.\u201d\n\nA question which may have been in the reader\u2019s mind for some time is as\nto whether, since the effect of under-spin is to make the trajectory\nturn upwards as it were, excessive under-spin would not result in the\nball taking an absolutely upward trajectory and then curling over and\nright round. In actual practice so much under-spin could not be put on\nto a golf ball as would enable it to get the better of gravity and other\ncircumstances to this extent, but theoretically such an evolution would\nbe described if the conditions were equal to it. Professor Tait says:\n\u201cThe kink can be obtained in a striking manner when we use as a\nprojectile one of the large balloons of thin rubber which are so common.\nWe have only to \u2018slice\u2019 the balloon sharply downwards in a nearly\nvertical plane with the flat hand.\u201d It must be remembered that in the\ncase of a very bad slice the ball sometimes does actually curl right\nround towards the finish of its run.\n\n\nVIII\n\nThere are many other incontrovertible and very interesting conclusions\narrived at as the result of the reckoning of this distinguished\nscientist which one would like to discuss if there were room for it. It\nis enough to say at the finish that while these reflections will serve\nto give the golfer a more intelligent view of the scientific aspect of\nthe game and its mysteries, and very likely even tend to a change in his\npolicy in some departments, he will not be led towards any disbelief in\nthe standard methods of good driving or to any deliberate seeking or\nregulation of under-spin, the fact being that more than a century of\nplay and groping about in unscientific darkness brought the player to\nthe discovery of the way in which the longest ball could be obtained,\n_i.e._ to the way in which translatory force and rotation were blended\nto the best effect. The stance and the swing, when properly performed\nwith a proper driver, bring about that blend, though generally the\nplayer has been blissfully unconscious of the part they have played in\nconveying rotation to the ball. A pregnant paragraph by the scientist\nmay be quoted at the end: \u201cThe pace which the player can give the\nclubhead at the moment of impact depends to a very considerable extent\non the _relative_ motion of his two hands (to which is due the \u2018nip\u2019)\nduring the immediately preceding two-hundredth of a second, while the\namount of beneficial spin is seriously diminished by even a trifling\nupward concavity of the path of the head during the ten-thousandth of a\nsecond occupied by the blow. It is mainly in apparently trivial matters\nlike these, which are placidly spoken of by the mass of golfers under\nthe general title of knack, that lie the very great differences in\ndrives effected under precisely similar external conditions by players\nequal in strength, agility, and (except to an extremely well-trained and\ncritical eye) even in style.\u201d\n\nI should explain that all these things were told by Professor Tait, not\nin simple language to an assembly of golfers, but in complicated terms\nto a learned body of scientists, and I have thus endeavoured to explain\nhis meaning in a manner that all can understand, and in some cases--as\nin that of the question of the proper centering of the rubber-cored ball\nto carry it forward to its application to the new conditions of play\nthat have been introduced since his life and studies came to an end.\n\n\nIX\n\nWhat is the longest possible drive by our best driver under the best\nconditions? That is a question which it is impossible to answer, simply\nbecause the best conditions cannot be defined. In practical golf they\nare an impossible ideal, and one never knows how far in certain existing\ncircumstances that ideal is approached. This brings us to see the\nfutility of comparing one drive with another, or even of regarding any\nparticular drive as the best on record, in the sense that it was the\nbest that had ever been accomplished, just because it was the longest\nthat had been measured. The very slightest difference in the conditions,\nor in the circumstances of the run of the ball, may cause one drive to\nbe what some people would call a record, and another, equally good in\nexecution and strength, to be comparatively poor. For example, think of\nwhat enormous importance is the nature of the place on which the ball\ngets its first pitch. Let it pitch against an incline ever so slight, or\nagainst a knob in the ground no bigger than a pigeon\u2019s egg, and the\nsting of the shot is plucked. As in the case of so many other arguments,\nthis one as to the overwhelming influence of conditions in long driving,\nand record driving, is best set forth by the _reductio ad absurdum_, and\nit is sufficient to point out that if a child tapped a ball off a tee on\nto a tolerably steep and smooth incline, the ball would run to the edge\nof the world unless stopped by a change in the conditions.\n\nIt is more to the point--but not much more--to consider how far a ball\nmight be driven under conditions which might be described an nearly\nideal, but strictly fair in the sense that the force of gravity by means\nof an incline, or wind, should not assist in the propulsion of the ball,\nwhile on the other hand neither wind nor slope should be adverse to it.\nTo create such nearly ideal conditions, under which we would solve this\nquestion as to the longest possible drive, we would need to enclose a\nlong shed or gallery, down which the ball was to travel, so that it\nshould be entirely protected from wind influence, and then we should\nhave to lay a special fairway of some smooth, hard substance that would\nafford the least imaginable resistance and friction to the ball when\nrunning. Asphalte would be good for this purpose, but polished marble or\ngranite would be better, and if some millionaire enthusiast desired to\nsolve this longest-possible-drive question these are the conditions\nthat I would recommend to him. Now, then, how long would that gallery\nneed to be? How far could that ball be driven? In the open, on perfectly\nlevel and on smooth slippery turf, which after wind and warmth is at its\nfastest, such as one gets often at St. Andrews, a drive that approached\n320 yards would at the same time be approaching very near record for\nfair conditions. We have this to work on. How many yards should we have\nto put on for the perfect pitch and the perfectly level, hard, smooth,\nand frictionless floor in our driving gallery? When you come to think it\nover in this way, it is rather a pretty problem. Of course, in the\nabsence of the millionaire and the gallery, there is no satisfactory\nanswer, though Professor Tait would have made a close estimate possibly.\nBut put the question to the next party of golfers among whom you happen\nto be included, and see what widely varying answers you will get. In the\nmeantime one may suggest 500 yards.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FABRIC OF THE GAME\n\n\nI\n\nWe boast constantly of the traditions of our game of golf, and well may\nwe do so, for they are glorious, and they bring with them a great\nresponsibility for their perpetuation. Some day in the distant future a\nfar-off generation may be moved to build a Temple of Golf. There is the\nnucleus of the idea already within the house of the Royal and Ancient\nClub. In stone and on canvas it will tell the story of the great deeds\nof the heroes of the past as it is told in the national palaces and\nhalls of England and of France.\n\nIn the path that will lead from the gates to the doors of the temple\nthere will be a giant monument of the fairest hero of them all. It will\nshow in white marble a lithe-limbed player at the finish of a\nSt. Andrews drive with his features alight with the full joy of the game\nat the richest time of his youthful manhood--a fine, a happy, a lovable\nface. On one side of the pedestal there will be depicted the trophies of\nthe links. On the other side there will be a terrier, of whom it shall\nbe indicated that his name was \u201cNails.\u201d On the back of the pedestal\nthere will be a group of golfers, representing in them the golf world\nfar and wide, and they will be showing by their manner and their\nactions that they are acclaiming their hero, and that they esteem him\nfor his golfing and manly worth and all his noble qualities. And on the\nfront of the pedestal there will be cut a scene of war, with the Riet\nRiver flowing by, and in the shade of the trees on the bank there will\nlie a prostrate figure with a smile still left on the happy face. It\nwill tell that a great soldier-golfer has done his duty, and that from\nthe African veldt his soul has gone forward to the consummation of its\ngreatness. No words will need to be carved on this monument of glory. It\nwill bear the simple inscription, \u201cF. G. Tait. Died 1900,\u201d and the men\nwho gaze upon it in the far-off time will bare and bow their heads, and\nwill walk silently into the temple.\n\nThere will be things to wonder at within. There will be the Hall of\nKings. Giant canvases will show Charleses and Jameses playing their game\nof golf on the links of Leith, and there will be Mary Queen of Scots\nwith clubs in her hand on St. Andrews course. Further on there will be\nKing William IV. and his consort Adelaide, giving their countenance to\nthe game on historic occasions; and then there will surely be another\npicture with the simple title \u201c1863,\u201d upon which will be recognised the\nPrince of Wales, who became King Edward VII., being then in office as\ncaptain of the premier club. Paintings of more modern date will show\nKaiser Wilhelm giving some encouragement to the golfers of the\nFatherland, and the King of Spain first wooing a British princess on the\ncourse of Biarritz, and then paying his royal respects, but still humble\nand sincere, to the game itself at San Sebastian. Kings and queens,\nprinces and princesses, golfers all, and earnest ones, players of a\nright royal and ancient game.\n\nThere will be a Hall of Founders, in which will be immortalised the\ngreat men who in the early times laid the foundations of the game, and\nof its most historic institutions. The largest frame in the room will\nhold a painting bearing the title \u201cMagna Charta, 1553,\u201d and the picture\nwill depict a scene in which the Provost and Magistrates of St. Andrews\nare granting leave to Archbishop Hamilton to place rabbits on the links\nat St. Andrews. The Archbishop is writing his signature to the parchment\nwhich, with the authority of the chapter, ratifies and approves the\nrights of the community to the links, more especially for the purpose of\n\u201cplaying at golff, futball, schuteing at all gamis, with all uther maner\nof pastyme.\u201d There will be a fine picture of a man of noble countenance,\na wig upon his head and robes around him, as he is seated in his chair\nwith his hand upon a table where rests a mace. This is Duncan Forbes of\nCulloden, Lord President of the Court of Session, and first captain of\nthe Gentlemen Golfers--now going by the name of the Honourable\nCompany--in 1744. A great man was Duncan Forbes, and he played for the\nSilver Club. A poet of his own time sung of him:\n\n   \u201cYea, here great Forbes, patron of the just,\n    The dread of villains, and the good man\u2019s trust,\n    When spent with toils in serving humankind,\n    His body recreates, and unbends his mind.\u201d\n\nThere is evidence that he played for the club in 1745, and it is\nbelieved that this must have been his last round, for the rising of the\nclans just at that time compelled him to set out for the north, where\nhe exerted the utmost of his influence to prevent them from joining the\ncause of the Young Pretender. There will be a picture of Francis, fifth\nEarl of Wemyss, ancestor of great players, himself playing the game at\nGosford, and there will surely be recovered for that Temple the canvas\nthat we know, showing one of the most famous and the most worthy of the\nfathers of golf, and another captain of the Company, William St. Clair\nof Roslin, of whom it was said that his skill at golf and archery were\nsuch that the common people thought that he must be in league with\nSatan. \u201cA man considerably above six feet, with dark-grey locks, a form\nupright, but gracefully so, thin-flanked and broad-shouldered, built it\nwould seem for the business of war or the chase, a noble eye, of\nchastened pride and undoubted authority, and features handsome and\nstriking in their general effect. As schoolboys we crowded to see him\nperform feats of strength and skill in the old Scottish games of golf\nand archery.\u201d That is what was written of William St. Clair of Roslin by\nSir Walter Scott, and Sir George Chalmers painted the picture of him\naddressing a golf ball, the picture that they must have in the Temple.\nAnd there will be many others, all telling of the excellence and the\ndignity and even the skill of those great golfers of the first age of\nthe game.\n\nThen there will be a Hall of Science, and there will be a fresco on the\nwall showing the great Professor Tait with compasses and instruments\ncalculating strange curves, many golf balls strewn about the ground.\n\nAnd there will be one main Gallery of Masters, and there will be\nperpetuated the names and forms and feats of the men who went farthest\nin their skill at the noble game. There will be Allan Robertson and old\nTom Morris in a great foursome, and there will be a young man with a\nwild look of fear on his face, stepping into a boat at North Berwick to\nbe sailed across the water to St. Andrews, where a loved one lay dying.\nThere will be Jamie Anderson and Bob Ferguson, triple Champions, and\nthere will be John Ball, Open and Amateur Champion at once and six times\nAmateur Champion. He will be painted mounted on a charger going to the\nwar. There will be many masters besides.\n\nIn the centre there will be three statues grouped together. One of them\nwill be sculptured on an Athenian model. It will show a fine player at\nthe finish of his drive, and there will be on the base the simple\ninscription \u201cStyle.\u201d That will be Harry Vardon. Another will show a man\nof stern countenance with thick wrists tightened upon a mashie, and that\nwill be named \u201cAccuracy.\u201d The man is Taylor. And the third of these\nfigures will show a man of solemn look, like that upon some ancient\nbusts. That will be \u201cPerseverance,\u201d and surely the people will know that\nit is James Braid that is meant. The famous Triumvirate! Those future\ngolfers will walk their way through these halls and through the gallery\nof the Temple of Golf that will be raised, and a great awe of the game\nwill come upon them. It is as if generations, ages of great golfers will\nlook hard but not unkindly at these passers-by, and will seem to cry\naloud, \u201cWe made it! We made it! Preserve it! Preserve it!\u201d Not the game\nalone, but its glory--its tradition.\n\n\nII\n\nThere are many full-blooded golfers who, if in the light of knowledge\nand experience they could have their choice to live their golfing lives\nover again, with the special advantage of picking their own period and\nplace for play, would hold up their hands for Leith and the closing\nyears of the seventeenth century. They could be greatly earnest about\ntheir golf in those days, and there was colour and richness about it.\nHere it was that King Charles was playing his game when the news came to\nhim, according to famous tradition, of the insurrection and rebellion in\nIreland. And another future King of England is generally believed to\nhave played great games on Leith links, and perhaps the most interesting\nmonument of ancient golf that remains to us to-day is still to be found\nin Edinburgh, commemorating a great game that was once played, in which\nJames, Duke of York, afterwards James II., had a hand. This house is\nthat old one in Canongate which is numbered 77, on the north side a\nlittle above Queensberry House. On the wall above what at one time was\nthe doorway of this house there is a stone bearing this inscription in\nLatin: \u201cCum victor ludo scotis qui proprius esset ter tres victores post\nredimitus avos patersonus humo tunc educebat in altum hanc quae victores\ntot tulit una domum\u201d; and, separately, there is the line in English, \u201cI\nhate no person,\u201d which effectually settles the name of the man most\nconcerned, as the letters of these words are nothing more than an\nanagrammatical transposition of the letters of the name of John\nPatersone, who is the hero of the story of the great game. High up, near\nthe top of this five-storey building, is another tablet bearing a coat\nof arms, on which there are three pelicans and three mullets, while for\ncrest there is a dexter hand grasping a golf club, and the motto is \u201cFar\nand sure.\u201d The point of the story is that this house was built by a poor\ncobbler out of a share of the proceeds of a wager won by the Duke on a\nfoursome, in which he, the cobbler, was his partner.\n\nThe generally accepted story, in which there is no hole to be picked, is\nthat one day, during their attendance at the Scottish Court, two English\nnoblemen, who had played a little golf in their time, had a discussion,\nin which the Duke of York joined, as to whether it were more of an\nEnglish or a Scottish game. Eventually it was determined that the\nquestion, so far as their own satisfaction was concerned, should be\ndecided by an appeal to the game itself, that is to say, the Englishmen,\nwho affected to be of mind that it was an English game, agreed that they\nwould play the Duke and any other Scotsman that he would choose to\npartner him for a large stake of money. The Duke conceived that he could\ndo himself a little good in the affair, since his acceptance of such a\nchallenge and his standing forward in the name of Scotland would be good\nfor the sustenance of his claim to the character of a Scot, and would\nplease the people of the country. So the match being made, the Duke sent\nout agents to scour the town in search of the best partner for him that\nthey could find, and when found he was to be brought forward,\nirrespective of his circumstances or his station in life. Eventually the\nman whom they selected for this onerous task was the poor shoemaker who\nwent by the name of John Patersone. He was very fearful as to how he\nshould perform with so much responsibility depending upon him; but the\nDuke was evidently a good golfer, to the extent that he encouraged his\npartner and did his utmost to make him feel comfortable, whereupon\nPatersone braced himself for the struggle and said that he would do his\nbest. The Duke and the cobbler were easily victorious, whereupon the\nformer gave his partner the half of the stake that he had won, and with\nthis money the house in Canongate was built, the Duke himself causing\nthe escutcheon, bearing the arms of the family of Patersone, to be fixed\nin the wall.\n\n\nIII\n\nIt must be seen to that the canker of commercialism is never permitted\nto eat its way into the game, for if it were the game would be ruined,\nas other games and sports have been ruined in that way. It is not that\nthere is any serious danger of golf coming by such a fate, for its\npeople are too well imbued with what might be called the moral sporting\nsense, and have too much discrimination to permit themselves to be\ndeceived by the insidiousness of the temptations of the commercial\nadventurer. But it is well that the situation and its weaknesses should\nbe fully realised, so that all players and lovers of the game, of high\nand low degree, and of long experience and short, may be fully alive to\nthem, and so on their guard. And it must be considered, at the outset of\nany reflection upon such matters as this, as the most simple and\nelementary principle, and that which is most indisputable, that there\nis money in everything in which masses of people take an interest, and\nthe greater the interest the more money is there in it--money for the\nadventurers who come forward to feed that interest in whatsoever guise\nthey may come. Golf has become a passion with a large section of\nmankind, and therefore there is much money in it for those who will\nhumour this passion, and there are many evidences that the outside world\nis not unappreciative of this circumstance.\n\nIt is said by some of the best judges of golf, that the rubber-cored\nball has spoiled the game. That is a matter upon which opinions to some\nextent differ; but at all events it can hardly be held that the new ball\nhas improved the game, that is to say, that it has made it any better\ngame than it used to be, though it may be admitted that, by making it\neasier to play, it has resulted in greater enjoyment being given to a\nvast number of people than would have been if it had never been\nintroduced. But, in any case, why have we the rubber-cored ball in\npractically exclusive use at the present time, when the feeling of the\ngolf world on its first introduction was overwhelmingly against it? It\nis due entirely to commercialism, to that and to nothing else. If\nenterprising business men who cared for their bank accounts first and\ntheir golf afterwards, had not seen that there were fortunes in the\nrubber-cored ball if it were forced on the players, there would have\nbeen no rubber-cored ball to-day. The golfing public was quite compelled\nto use it, though it may not have been realised at the time, and one\nresult was that the game had to pass through a period of unrest and\ninconvenience lasting for three or four seasons, while courses were\nbeing altered and lengthened, the new ball was being improved, and its\nvarious manufacturers were engaged in the attempt to exterminate each\nother, and there was a foolish interest generated in the breaking day by\nday of the record scores of courses. All this upheaval was due entirely\nto the introduction of an alien element into the spirit of the links,\nthe element of commercialism. Of course one must admit that it is this\ncommercialism that brings about many of the greatest aids to our\ncompleter civilisation and comfort, and it has not to be regarded as an\nenemy to all things. It is the moving spirit of progress and\nimprovement; but it is not generally welcome to golf, because we want\nneither progress nor improvement in the actual game of golf, but simply\nthe game as it has been handed down to us. In this matter we are\nentirely and wisely conservative. With the rubber ball in vogue, the\ncase now is that a great industry has been built up, in which there are\nhundreds of thousands of pounds of capital involved, and in the outer\nzone of golf there is a desperate war being waged by rival\nmanufacturers. The golf world has to take care that this war is kept\nwhere it is, and perhaps all the better if it goes on.\n\nGenerally such a thing is to the benefit of the golfer; but all the time\nthere are guerilla raids into the inner zone, and while the amateur\nplayer has not been in any way affected by this commercialism, that can\nhardly be said of all others associated with the game. Business is not\nsport, and sport is not business, and to a certain extent the\nlegitimate interests of the golfer and the ball manufacturer are opposed\nin this matter. Just as it was with bicycles in their \u201cboom\u201d days, and\nas it is with motors now, it is to the interests of manufacturers to get\ntheir specialities used on important occasions, and when successes are\nlikely to be made with them. The certificate of merit which is thus\ngiven is very valuable and is talked about. The less thoughtful public\nsays to itself, \u201cSurely, then, this thing is better than others,\u201d and\nbuys it accordingly. Such a conclusion is not logical, and, of course,\nis quite unwarranted. Successes achieved with it certainly indicate that\nthere cannot be anything wrong with an article, but they do not prove\nsuperiority. They could only do that if it were established beforehand\nthat the human element in the equation were either inferior or not more\nthan equal to the human elements in opposition. It is the same as if\nthey were to advertise and make a great point of the fact that the\nwinner of the Derby was saddled with a particular make of saddle. But in\nthe racing world they believe primarily in their horses. The case with\ngolf at present is not in the least serious. One may feel sure there is\nno danger of amateur players giving way to money temptations of any\nsort, or temptations in kind either. The sporting sentiment of the game\nis too strong for that. If it were not for that the fear for the safe\nfuture of golf would be great. Every sport that has been attacked in\nthis way has been killed from the point of view of good health and\npurity.\n\nThere is another possible contingency, though as yet a remote one, in\nwhich commercialism may infringe injuriously upon the game, and that is\nin exploiting it as a spectacle and charging \u201cgate money\u201d to the public.\nSome people say that golf is not a game that can be used as a spectacle\nlike football and cricket; but that is not entirely true. The interest\nthat is created in cricket and football matches is largely of an\nartificial and manufactured character. A good drive at golf is quite as\nfine a thing to look at as a snick to the boundary on the cricket field.\nWhere the difference comes in from the public point of view at present\nis in the fact that in the case of an important cricket match the public\nare brought to understand that an enhanced value is attached to each\nstroke, and therefore there is the more interest in watching it played.\nWould there not be at least as much public interest in watching a great\nplayer attempt to hole a curly two-yard putt if a championship or a side\nwager of a couple of hundred pounds were depending on it? The\ntemperament of the spectator counts for something in this question of\nwhat is a good game for a spectacle, and it has to be remembered that\nthe temperaments of the British sporting crowds have been trained\ntowards cricket and football. Fifteen years ago there was not more than\na tenth of the number of spectators at the big football matches as there\nare in these days, though there were practically as many of them played.\nAnd that golf has an attraction, which might very easily become an\noverpowering one for the spectator, was proved when the international\nfoursome between the leading professionals for \u00a3400 was played in 1905,\nwhen, on three courses in different parts of the country, there was an\naverage attendance of spectators of about ten thousand each day. That\nwas simply because the match had been talked about and a special\ninterest had become attached to it.\n\nOn one of these courses \u201cgate money\u201d was charged, and again in 1906, on\nthe occasion of another professional foursome, a charge for admission to\nthe course to see the play was made by the local club. It has been\nmutely understood as a principle that no such charges should ever be\nmade, being a violation of the spirit in which golf is played--the\nspirit that suggests that the game is for the men who play it, and for\nnobody else--and it can be fancied that the success of the \u201cgate\u201d on\nthese occasions may have put ideas into the minds of enterprising\ncommercial people, as indeed it is known it did. There is the danger,\nthen, that some time an attempt may be made to hold golf matches as a\nshow. If it were successful it would mean a complete upheaval of the\ngame. If the professionals found that they \u201cdrew\u201d to the extent of\nhundreds of pounds at a time, they would naturally be discontented with\nmoderate fees for playing. They would demand shares of the gate; they\nwould receive perhaps hundreds for playing on important occasions, and\nthe modest, unassuming working professional, as we know him now, would\nexist no longer, the cohesion between the two sections in our little\nstate of golf would be loosened, amateurism might suffer if only by the\nsense of mediocrity that would be thrust upon it, and the game would not\nbe the same. All the tricks of trades would come into golf at\nonce--\u201csigning on,\u201d bartering, bluffing, and even cheating. Considering\nthe enormous \u201cboom\u201d in golf that is going on at present, and the\nmillions of money that are spent on it in one way and another, it is\nwonderful that it has retained its purity,--not wonderful, perhaps,\nwhen you take the moral sporting quality of the golfer into\nconsideration,--but still wonderful on an ordinary reckoning. Its\ncontinued purity may have given rise to an exaggerated sense of\nsecurity. Certainly none of us can believe in the possibility of its\nsinking to the state which has just been suggested; but it is better to\nrealise that the facts are as stated, and that there is the chance of\nsuch a thing happening at some future time, so that at the first sign of\nthe enemy\u2019s advance the golf world may be armed and ready to attack and\nkill it. It is one of those evils that will come insidiously when it\ndoes come, and will have gained a hold before we are aware of its\npresence.\n\nAnother feature of this increase of commercialism in relation to golf is\nin the realisation of the magnetic power of the game by promoters of\nbuilding estates, and private persons who exploit the game in one way or\nanother, chiefly through the medium of new courses. In these cases there\nis no great harm done, but they are an infringement in some sense of the\nprinciple that the game should not be played for the benefit of other\npeople. Everywhere speculators in estates are making golf courses first\nand building houses afterwards; and the other day, when such a course,\nmade with this object, was established not far from London, there were\n\u201cpress views\u201d and all the other accompaniments of the launching of a\ncommercial undertaking, while it was announced that to promote its\nfuture success matches would be arranged between leading professionals,\nand efforts would be made to enlist the sympathy of the public in\nthem--to the advantage of the speculators who were sinking their money\nin the development of this estate. We do not like the look of this. Here\nthe game is to be played not for the sake of the game altogether, but\nfor these proprietors of land and houses. It is most obvious\ncommercialism. And it is certainly not golf.\n\nSome golfers may say that after all they are not very much affected by\nthis sort of thing so far, and are not likely to be. Is it worth while\nbothering about? they may ask. A man who has the true spirit of the\nlinks within him will not ask the question, nor will he think that this\nwriter has laboured the warning that is hereby conveyed. Of all the\nthings in golf that matter the most for its future welfare, this is the\nmost important, for it might conceivably be a question of life and death\nwith the game, and it is time that the whole of the golf world\nunderstood and appreciated, and then at every opportunity henceforth, in\nsmall matters as well as in large ones, set itself against all\ninfluences that are not for the good of the game. It is right and proper\nthat the makers of golfing goods should practise their commercialism to\nthe utmost extent of their capacity outside the area of the game, but\nnot inside our doors. It is ultimately to the advantage of the players\nthat they should do so. But except those who make these goods, we deny\nthat others who do not play have the right to make money out of our\ngame, if they might spoil it for ourselves in so doing.\n\n\nIV\n\nJust lately certain desperadoes, whom one need hardly say had no\nconnection with the premier club, held a bogey competition over the new\ncourse at St. Andrews. A while previously some others were reported to\nhave held a similar contest over the old course itself, which was worse.\nHere in St. Andrews it is almost held as a sin merely to mention the\nname of bogey, or even to refer to it somewhat indefinitely as \u201cthe\nColonel.\u201d All know that the Royal and Ancient Club will have nothing\nwhatever to do with the idea of bogey competitions, and though they are\ncommon enough in these days, you generally find the best class of\ngolfers of the old school fighting shy of the idea, and to the best\nclubs, quite apart from the R. and A., the idea is still taboo. The\nstandpoint which these clubs and these men take is that ordinary\nmatch-play is the true golf, and when it comes to needing a variation\nfrom it for special purposes, there is the score game in reserve. These\ntwo, they say, are ample for all purposes, and any other forms of golf\nthat may be invented are not real golf; they are more or less of\ntravesties, they are needless complications, and for the most part they\nare the inventions of faddists, which, if universally sanctioned by the\ncommunity, would lead to the production of other fads even worse, so\nthat innumerable fantastic changes would be rung on this fine, simple\ngame of golf to its undoing, since it cannot possibly be better than, or\neven so good as, in its simplest form. Already in some parts of the\ncountry there are four-ball foursomes against bogey being played, and\nsome wild ideas for new-fangled competitions have been sent across the\nAtlantic to us from America. That is why bogey is never so much as\nmentioned at St. Andrews, and why the surest way that the Southron, on\nmaking his first visit to the classic headquarters of the game, may be\nmade to feel uncommonly small and to wish that he had not been so\ninquisitive, is to ask on playing the first hole--which often enough\nleaves you a pretty stiff carry over the Swilcan Burn from your tee\nshot,--whether it is a bogey 4 or 5. The town authorities notify you by\nprinted placard that they have the power by by-law to fine you for\nplaying on the old course with iron clubs only, and also for practising\nputting on the eighteenth green, and one would never be much surprised\nif it were made a matter of ten shillings and costs, or a week in\ndefault, for playing there against old bogey. Certain it is that there\nare many good golfers there who would be glad to hear of such a penalty.\n\nThe experienced man who tries to take a broad view of this minor\nquestion of golfing politics generally comes to the conclusion that the\nanti-bogeyists are quite right, and that we do not want any\ncomplications in the game, and he takes it particularly in mind that the\nbogey system is entirely the result of the modern craze for pot and\nmedal hunting, since it was designed solely and exclusively as a new\nform of competition. One would not dream nowadays of going out to play a\ngame with a friend, each man playing his holes against bogey. Therefore\nthere is nothing friendly and nothing sociable in the idea, and it is\nnot golf, and it is condemned all the more inasmuch as its special\nobject is to release erring players from the penalties of their errors,\nsuch as they would have to pay for in stroke play. It is therefore an\nencouragement to mediocrity. At the same time our broad-minded critic\nwould agree that this bogey has been in for a good many years now, has\noutlived the attacks that have been made upon it, and has certainly\nestablished a place for itself in the golfing scheme of things which\nnothing seems likely to disturb. You generally find that as a golfer\ngets on in experience he cares less and less for bogey play, if he ever\ncared for it at all; but the new generation like it apparently, and will\nhave it. Therefore we must tolerate it. It is a matter of some\nsatisfaction to notice that more and more do clubs begin to make a\nstandard reckoning of the value of their holes on the par system instead\nof the bogey. There is no sort of sense in saying that the bogey of a\nparticular hole is 4 or 5, or anything else that it may be put down at.\nThe majority of \u201cbogey 5\u2019s\u201d are real 4\u2019s, and it is difficult to see\nwhat is the object of placing a standard value on a hole unless that\nstandard represents faultless play by a good man, as the par figure\ndoes, and not such play as may include two half-spoiled shots or one\ncompletely foozled one, as the bogey figure frequently allows. It is\noften the case that at a \u201cbogey 5\u201d on a suburban course a good player\ncan make a complete bungle of his second shot and still do the 5 with\nsome ease. What, then, is the use of this sort of valuation of the holes\non various courses?\n\nSo what with his somewhat surreptitious appearance at St. Andrews, and\nmany violent attacks that have been made upon him, some men saying with\nwithering sarcasm that they think they have heard of him before\nsomewhere, the poor old Colonel has been having a rather exciting and\nnot entirely happy time of it in recent seasons, and one feels a certain\namount of pity for him, recognising that he really has given much\npleasure to many players. In this sympathetic mood one may listen\npatiently to the story of his career. He has seen considerable service\nnow, for he became attached to golf at the beginning of its boom days.\nThe origin of the association was curious. Although some have it that\nbogey was born at Elie, a Coventry gentleman, Mr. Hugh Rotherham, is\nmore generally believed to have been the first to come by the germ of\nthe idea. This was in December 1890, when what was called the scratch\nscore of the Coventry course was taken, and there was given to each hole\na figure which was supposed to represent the scratch value. This was\ncalled the \u201cground score,\u201d and some six months later, when the idea had\nbecome well assimilated, Mr. Rotherham offered a prize for a competition\nin which the players would play against this ground score; while in the\nautumn of the same year the club put up a challenge cup for annual\ncompetition on the same lines. Thus already the idea was established,\nbut not the name.\n\nAbout this time some of the members of the Coventry club went as a party\nto Great Yarmouth, where the idea was explained to Dr. Thos. Browne,\nR.N., honorary secretary of the club. He thought well of its\npossibilities and advantages, and, taking considerable interest in it,\nwrote to various prominent golfers asking them their views of the\nadvisability or otherwise of introducing this \u201cground score\u201d into the\ngeneral routine of competition golf. For the most part the replies were\nfavourable.\n\nNow one day Dr. Browne went out to play against a friend of his, Major\nCharles A. Wellman, on this system, and that winter the \u201cbogey man\u201d song\nwas the hit of the pantomimes in the music-halls.\n\n   \u201cHush! Hush! Hush!\n      Here comes the Bogey man!\n    So hide your head beneath the clothes,\n      He\u2019ll catch you if he can!\u201d\n\nwere the words of the refrain that gave a creepy feeling to the little\nchildren of the day. \u201cHe\u2019ll catch you if he can!\u201d There was the idea of\nbogey in golf, and it flashed across the mind of Major Wellman when he\nwas playing this game and getting caught by bogey. \u201cWhy,\u201d said he to\nDr. Browne, \u201cthis player of yours is a regular bogey man.\u201d In that\nchance remark a considerable piece of golfing history was made, for\nbogey was made for golf. Dr. Browne thought this name was excellent, and\nshould be adopted, as it was by the Great Yarmouth Club.\n\nA little while afterwards he went on a golfing holiday to the south\ncoast, and playing one day at the course of the United Service Club at\nAlverstoke in Hampshire, he informed his hosts that he had brought with\nhim a friend who was a very modest, quiet fellow and a steady golfer,\nwho played a uniformly good but never a brilliant game. He prayed that\nhe might be permitted to introduce him to the United Service Club as an\nhonorary member, and accordingly, in the continuance of his little\npleasantry, he presented him, in the way of an explanation of the \u201cbogey\nman game,\u201d to the late Captain Seely Vidal, R.E., who was honorary\nsecretary of the club, and to Dr. Walter Reid, R.N.\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d they said; they would certainly have the bogey man as a\ngolfer, and after working out a score for him for that course they went\nout to play with him.\n\n\u201cStay!\u201d said Captain Vidal at the moment of starting. \u201cWe must proceed\nin a proper service way. Every member of this club has a proper service\nrank. Our new invisible member, who never makes a mistake, surely ought\nto be a commanding officer. He must be a colonel.\u201d And then saluting, he\nadded, \u201cColonel Bogey! We are delighted to find you on the links, sir. I\ncouldn\u2019t well say see you.\u201d\n\nAfter that, wherever Dr. Browne went in the course of his golfing\npilgrimages, he introduced \u201chis friend\u201d in the name of Colonel Bogey.\nSeveral bogey matches were played at the United Service Club, and they\nwere reported in the papers, with some explanation of the new system. So\nthe Coventry, Great Yarmouth, and United Service Clubs had all a hand in\nthe establishment of the idea, and Dr. Browne, Major Charles Wellman,\nand Captain Seely Vidal were Bogey\u2019s godfathers in his baptism. Is is\nquite likely that the golfers of Elie worked out a bogey of their own\nindependently.\n\n\nV\n\n   \u201cEver let the Fancy roam,\n    Pleasure never is at home.\u201d\n\nSo Keats did sing. And, alas! there are even strange golfers who are\nsighing always for newfanglements, feeling that the things they cannot\nor must not have, are much better than the things they are blessed with.\nYet are the things that are in golf better than the things that might be\nif out-and-out Progressives had their way, and in this matter we shall\nsing a hymn of praise to the old school and its famous traditions, being\nsomething of a brake on these Progressives. Consider what were otherwise\nthe possibilities of the game if it fell into the hands of innovators.\n\nLately a story was printed and spread all about, that in some secret\nfields a great champion was practising with a new ball of extraordinary\nmanufacture, with which he was constantly getting at least fifty yards\nfarther with his drive than he could with the ordinary rubber-cored\naffair, that is to say, he was regularly driving from 250 to 300 yards!\nNow, some of us have heard of that ball before, but shall believe in it\nonly when we see it, and shall then cry aloud for its extinction, even\nif that dreaded Golf Union has to be established for the purpose, as\nprobably it would need to be. But some people ask why it is wrong to\nsigh for more and more length in the drive; why should not our old men\ndrive all the long holes in two, and our young men do them with a drive\nand a pitch, and play the short holes with their putters? They say\nthere is enormous pleasure in length, and that the rubber-core has given\nincreased enjoyment to scores of thousands of players. Which is true,\nthe last. But the more length you get the less golf there is in your\nplay. If length is all that is wanted, why not go shooting instead of\ngolfing? You can shoot a bullet a whole mile, and are not bothered to\ntrudge after it. Fatal points against the 300-yard ball are, that a\nlarge proportion of golfers would lose sight of it before it came to\nrest--and where would be their pleasure then?--and that it would upset\nthe construction of all our courses, since all the bunkers would be in\nthe wrong places, and the links would all be too short. More land and\nhuge sums of money would be needed by every club. The clubs had one\nexperience of this when the rubber-core came in; depend on it they will\nnot have another. By all means improve our present sort of balls, which\nis what makers are doing, and incidentally they are making them go a\nlittle farther, which is excusable. But no more revolutions. As it\nhappened, the story of the professional and the new ball was untrue.\n\nThe news of something that took place recently in golfing India came\nover the sea, and the committees and members of very small clubs were\nfired with a new idea. They are rather whimsical with their golf in our\ncolonies and dependencies at times, and it has been said facetiously\nthat the ships that come home from there ought to be put in quarantine\nnear St. Andrews for a while, to make certain that there are none of\nthese ideas on board. The Royal Bombay Club, thinking possibly that\nbunkers in the same places always are monotonous, and moreover that,\nbeing in the same place, they upset one\u2019s calculations so much when the\nwind changes, went in, according to report, for movable bunkers! They\nmade them from hurdles, and they could move them about the course\naccording to the weather and the committee\u2019s fancy.\n\nIn some places, as already hinted, they have been trying a strange kind\nof game called \u201ca four-ball foursome against bogey,\u201d being a blend of\nmany things most objectionable to the old spirit. This is the kind of\ngolf that would be exceedingly popular if people generally went mad with\nthe revolutionary idea and held executions in Trafalgar Square. In the\nmeantime it does not \u201ctake on.\u201d And a new kind of multi-match lately\ncame over from America. They play, say, six a side, but only one ball to\neach side, the whole dozen players starting off together. They do not\nplay alternately, but each man is chosen for the team according to his\nspecial abilities. One man is a specialist in long driving, another in\nhis brassey play, a third with his irons, a fourth with the short\napproaches, a fifth with his niblick, and a sixth with his putter. When\nwithin fifty yards of the green the captain sings out for No. 4, and\nNo. 5 is wanted when the ball is in a gutter. A man might not have a\nshot to play the whole way round. Great skill would be needed in the\nselection of the team. For a match on a short course the wise captain\nmight leave out his brassey man and put in, say, a fisherman, if there\nwere many water hazards on that course. But it is not golf, and never\nwill be.\n\nFrom the same source there emanates another idea in competitions. This\nis for stroke play, and all the men who enter play the first hole, one\nafter the other. Those men who take most strokes to it retire from the\ncompetition. The others proceed, and there is the same weeding out\nprocess at the second hole, and so on until there are only two players\nleft, and then the first man who wins a hole from the other wins the\ncompetition.\n\nA possibility, which is none the less dreadful because there is some\ngood common sense in the idea from which it springs, is that there will\nbe examinations in the rules, which all must pass either before being\nelected to full membership of a golf club or before being allowed to\ntake part in competitions. It is a certain fact that two golfers out of\nevery three--at least--are hazy on many important points in the rules.\nThree British clubs have already held such examinations, with startling\nresults. Scratch men were plucked! How curious it would be if the\nfavourite for a championship were disqualified in this way. Of course\nthe examiners would trip up the candidates by tricky riders to the\nrules, and as my artist friend, Mr. E. W. Mitchell, suggested, good\nquestions will be: \u201cA is your ball, B is your banker\u2019s ball, and C is\nthe hole (all being within a circle ten inches in diameter). Play one\noff two and lose!\u201d Also, \u201cWhat happens when a bull sits on your\nball--(1) in match; (2) in medal play?\u201d\n\nAs it is said, there is no telling what we may have next, particularly\nas a patent was recently applied for on behalf of a new club which had a\nsliding lid bottom, covering a receptacle in the head of the club, in\nwhich the golfer might keep his matches and his money!\n\n\nVI\n\nNow and then a section of the golfing community has the appearance of\nfretting for a new government of the game. The freedom that it has\nalways enjoyed, and in which it is superior to any other game that has a\nright to be compared to it for quality, interest, and popularity, has\nbecome irksome. It is felt that there can be disadvantages in too much\nfreedom, and so these people sigh to be placed under a yoke--a yoke of\ntheir own choosing, but none the less stern and powerful and, above all,\nactive. These agitations, if they are to be dignified with such a name,\ncommonly begin in the dullest days of winter, when both links and livers\nare abnormally heavy, and they flicker out again in the spring. Usually\nthe establishment of a new county golfing union is the signal for the\ncommencement of the argument in favour of the deposition of St. Andrews\nand the establishment of a new parliament of golf. By this time county\nunions are no novelty. The Yorkshire and the Nottinghamshire Unions--and\nparticularly the former--are now old-established and flourishing\ninstitutions; but latterly this movement towards unions has much\nincreased, and Warwickshire, Worcestershire, Gloucestershire, and others\nhave joined in it and settled their constitutions. Then there are in\nexistence the Welsh Union, the Sussex Union, and various others of\nsmaller activity. The formation of these unions has been in itself a\nproceeding of some significance; but the establishment of the new\nMidland Association is greater, for here you have three or four unions\nmaking common cause for the furtherance of their own ideas and\nprojects, and becoming a compact, circumscribed, and very nearly\nautonomous community, taking a considerable piece of the golfing map to\nthemselves, and embracing no small or unimportant section of the golfing\npopulation. First you had the county unions; now the grouping of these\nunions into associations. Obviously, the next and easy step will be a\ncombination of associations. Yorkshire and Wales might come to an\nunderstanding with the Midlands, and before one could shout \u201cFore!\u201d\nthere might be the whole country under the guidance, not to say\ndomination, of a union of associations. Members of clubs would _per se_\nbe affiliated to it, and would give tacit allegiance to it. That is\nsimply a possibility of evolution.\n\nSo far the programmes of the unions and associations are simple and\nunpretentious. They will start country competitions, inter-county\ntournaments, standardise handicaps, regulate local rules, and so forth.\nUnpretentious in a sense these matters are; but yet they will make for\nmuch in the whole sum of golf procedure. Then there are no authoritative\nrules for bogey play which many people want; the associations may make\nthem for themselves, and make them binding upon their members, and give\nrulings upon points of dispute or difficulty that may arise in regard to\nthem, since St. Andrews will have nothing to do with bogey. They will do\nall the many things that St. Andrews is too indifferent to do.\n\nThere you have it! How about the coming of the day when,\nold-established, firm, and powerful, the combined associations find that\nthey are doing nearly everything, and that St. Andrews is doing almost\nnothing? Will it not be an easy thing, and one which will suggest\nitself, to cut the knot that ties them to the old and respected guardian\nof our golf, and to go forth with a new and revolutionary programme of\ngovernment, which shall include even the very championships and the\nrules themselves? This is not a fanciful speculation; it is logical\nand--as some who have brought themselves to the serious study of the\nfuture would say--almost inevitable. It would be according to the\nnatural processes of history.\n\nLet them disclaim as they please, be as loyal to the existing order of\nthings as possible, it is still the fact that these unions and\nassociations are a menace to St. Andrews. By evolution from them rather\nthan by direct establishment is a British Golfing Union likely to come\nabout, if one ever does. This is essentially a democratic movement. With\nthe vast influx of new players the feeling in golf is infinitely more\ndemocratic than it was five years ago, and the people are now chafing at\nthe indifference of St. Andrews and the championship group of clubs, and\nare calling for a ruling body that will give them new and simpler laws,\nthat will regulate the championships better, and hold them on a greater\nvariety of courses, organise inter-county competitions, and so on.\nSt. Andrews--by which is meant the Royal and Ancient Club--is the old\nand self-established, almost hereditary House of Lords that dozes and\ndoes not mind, with no second chamber between it and the people. The\npeople say they want a representative and active House of Commons. This\nallegory works out perfectly to the point that Ireland is fuming and\nfretting at the neglect with which she is treated.\n\nShall the golfers\u2019 House of Lords be mended or ended? There are three\nparties in the great state of golf--the old Tories, who want things to\nremain as they are, and who regard the St. Andrews House of Lords as the\nfinest form of government imaginable, chiefly because it does not\ngovern; the reformers, who want St. Andrews to become more active and to\nseek the co-operation of some of the leading clubs in the country; and\nthe democratic revolutionaries, who want a new governing body elected by\nthe people and the clubs. The first party is in a hopeless minority, and\nwill always remain so. The present state of affairs may go on for some\ntime yet; but the golf world is too big and important, and the questions\npressing upon it are too weighty, for it to be regarded as permanent.\n\nThe Royal and Ancient Club of St. Andrews is a most worthy,\ndistinguished, and conscientious institution, full of all the most\nblue-blooded traditions. One may disagree with the idea that the Club\nentertains of the duty and responsibility towards the great world of\ngolf which time and circumstances have cast upon it; but no golfer of\nunderstanding would speak disrespectfully of this Club, which in many\nrespects is the finest institution of its kind in existence, and is\nentitled to the very utmost veneration. Chiefly by its efforts there has\nbeen given a dignity to the game of golf which has had much to do with\nits established greatness. Every golfer everywhere owes a debt to the\nRoyal and Ancient Club.\n\nYet as an authority nobody ever sanctioned it; like Topsy, it simply\ngrew. Of course, it was wanted; somebody had to make laws. It is almost\nequally certain that the club never aspired to an active command over\nsuch an extensive golf world as there is at present, and that its\npresent disposition is that it \u201ccannot be bothered,\u201d that the British\ngolfers must take it as they find it, or--do as they please.\n\nTo some extent allied with St. Andrews in the government of the game are\nthe clubs who regulate the championship. To some minds the Royal and\nAncient and these other clubs that rule the championships, have\nsometimes seemed to be in league with each other against the new spirit\nand new tendencies in golf, and it is not surprising that the worm is\nturning. The \u201ccommon people\u201d of the golfing world say that they have had\nenough of this sort of thing, and all these airs and graces, that they\nare in the majority--which is perfectly true--and that they will act.\n\nNow what shall be done? Shall the golfers\u2019 House of Lords be mended or\nended? In course of time some change is inevitable, democracy will have\nits way, and all those who have the interests of the game most at heart\nmust, on reflection, come to the conclusion that for the time being, at\nany rate, it will be for good if the House of Lords is reconstituted on\nslightly more popular lines. Therefore it would seem to be desirable\nthat the Royal and Ancient and its associates, the golfing House of\nLords, should recognise the feeling that is undoubtedly abroad in the\ncountry, and should take the initiative now, when it would lose nothing\nin dignity and gain everything in influence, in establishing the\ngovernment of golf on a firmer and more satisfactory basis than that on\nwhich it at present exists. The rules need remodelling, the system of\nthe championships needs rearranging, the question of county tournaments,\nstandardisation of handicaps, and so forth, call for some\nconsideration, and the interference of the commercial side of the game\nneeds to be looked into. St. Andrews alone and without a mandate has\nneither the will nor the power to grapple with all these difficulties.\nOn the other hand, a democratically elected governing body would almost\ncertainly be given far too much to something in the nature of vandalism,\nand for a certainty golf under its authority would lose much of the\ndignity that is at present one of its very greatest charms. What one has\nseen of the ways of even some big provincial clubs, such as might have\nloud voices in a new democratic government, and the tone that animates\ntheir game, gives one no confidence that they would preserve its best\ntraditions intact. There would be a tendency towards unnecessary\ninnovations and vulgarism. Nobody who has any adequate knowledge of the\nmanner and system of golf as practised by the good old-fashioned clubs\nwould care to risk placing the future of the game entirely in the hands\nof the revolutionaries.\n\nThe world of golf is not ready for a great revolution. The fact is that\nwe want as little legislation as possible, but what there is should be\ngood and adequate, and the tendencies and needs of the times should be\nsystematically considered. The best solution to the difficulty, perhaps,\nwould be for St. Andrews to relax a little from its aloofness, recognise\nthat circumstances impose a moral duty upon it, and seek the assistance\nof a few of the chief clubs, seaside and inland, throughout the country,\nwho among them would form a kind of joint board to which all other clubs\nwould declare their allegiance. We should expect to find such inland\nclubs in the south as Sunningdale, Woking, Mid-Surrey, and Walton Heath\nrepresented on this board, and it would approach all the questions of\nthe time in a progressive spirit and do its best to remove existing\ngrievances. If the Royal and Ancient took the initiative in this matter,\nit would gain in dignity and respect, and would have the knowledge that\nit had done its duty. If no such step is taken, if matters are allowed\nto drift on as at present, then a revolution of some kind is likely. A\npoint too frequently overlooked in these discussions is, that the Royal\nand Ancient club is in its membership and constitution very fairly\nrepresentative of golf throughout the country, as is no other club. The\nrights of its position at the head of the game are, of course,\nindisputable.\n\n\n\n\nWINTER\n\n\nI\n\nWhen the winds blow and the rains pour down, we discover the true worth\nof the golfer. The game has no season; it allows no right of control to\nany weather. It is for all places and for all times, and in the law of\nthe links it is clearly set down that he who is playing by strokes for a\nprize shall on no account whatsoever delay in the course of his round,\nnor take any shelter, though Pluvius should pour out upon him from the\nheavens their entire holding of the most drenching rain. If, in defiance\nof the stern law of St. Andrews, he does so take shelter, though it be\nbut for a minute under the scanty protection of leafless boughs, he is\nto be visited with the extreme penalty. Whatever his score, whatever the\nperfection of his golf, he shall take no prize, his card must be tossed\naside as worthless, and he is branded among his fellows as he who was\nafraid, and as more fitted to putt on the hearthrug by the fireside at\nhome in rivalry with his baby boy or girl, than to take part in this now\nfierce game of men. What is the law for medal competitions is, in\nscarcely less measure, the custom and tradition in matches. Once he has\nbegun, the golfer with the great heart must finish his game, and\ngenerally he does so. Scotland sometimes turns up its nose at the\nEnglish golf of the towns; but round about London, among all its \u201ceffete\ncivilisation,\u201d there is seen in golf, as in perhaps no other game, that\nsome fine British sporting hearts beat beneath starched linen and silken\nwaistcoats; and it is a thing to think about, that the city man who on\n\u2019Change at eleven o\u2019clock in the morning was arrayed most spotlessly and\nwas dealing in his thousands, at three o\u2019clock was driving his little\ngolf ball through wind and blinding rain, drenched to the skin, cold,\nmiserable, despondent with his 8\u2019s and 9\u2019s, but still doing his duty as\na golfer to his game.\n\nSo the authorities of St. Andrews will in no case countenance the mere\nfairweather golfer. He must \u201cface the music.\u201d But they do say--they said\nit when appealed to on one occasion--that the brave player is, after\nall, entitled to have a hole to putt at, and if the green is under water\nit is better that there should be no competition. It was the club of\nSt. Duthus that made the appeal, and the experiences of the members of\nthat club on the day concerned were varied and curious. One golfer\nplayed his ball on to a \u201cfloating green,\u201d and after vainly trying to\ndodge the sphere along the waters into the neighbourhood of the place\nwhere the hole was, he picked it out and claimed the right to play again\nsome other day. But when that same day was far spent and the flood had\nto some extent subsided, another player came along with his card to that\ngreen, and, having worked his ball to within three feet of the place\nwhere the hole was, he deftly pitched it up into the air with his mashie\nand down it came on the water immediately covering the hole, sank for a\nmoment, and came up again floating. Had he holed out? St. Andrews\ndeclined to say. They took shelter from this trying problem by observing\nthat that green should not have been played on.\n\nIn very similar circumstances a player coaxed his ball to the place\nwhere the hole was, and then debated within himself as to how he should\nhole out. No club that he had would sink the ball, but the law does not\nprescribe that golf must be played with standard clubs. This resourceful\nfellow, after due consideration, took his bag from his caddie, held it\nfor a moment above the ball, and then dumped it, end on, down on the\nfloating sphere, sinking it for a second. But was not that a push? And,\nagain, when another man had played on to a floating green he discovered\nthat the wind made a current, and that it--O generous current!--was\nslowly taking his ball towards the hole. So he waited until it should do\nso, but it was a slow process, and somebody protested. He claimed that\nhis last stroke was still in progress all the time, and that neither he\nnor anyone else had any more right to interfere with it than with a ball\nin flight. However, he was utterly cried down, and his point was not\nsettled.\n\nThus some curious shots have been played on water; and, have a mind,\nsome great ones too. One of the most classic shots of golf, perhaps the\nmost classic of them all, was that which Fred Tait played in the\nchampionship from the water-logged bunker on the far side of the Alps,\nguarding the seventeenth green at Prestwick. At a moment of crisis he\nwaded in with a forlorn hope, and with a shot that will still be spoken\nof in a hundred years he saved a point that had seemed gone for ever.\n\nThe brave golfer is placed in a difficult position, when his partner is\nsmitten with craven fears of pneumonia and inflammation of the lungs\nsupervening on the soaking that he is getting on the links. What is he\nto do if in medal competition this fearing one says that he will go no\nfarther, but will hasten back to the clubhouse, with its drying-room and\nits fire and warm refreshment? The law says that no man shall delay in\nhis round; but how shall the card be marked if the marker goes off for\nhis dry clothes and hot drinks? Ever generous to the brave, St. Andrews\nhas said that he whose heart is thus willing shall not be disqualified,\nbut shall be permitted to scour the links and the clubhouse in search of\na new marker, and if haply in the meantime the storm shall have ceased,\ngood luck to him, and may his be the winning card.\n\nBut no false excuses. Did you hear of the historic case of the Bury\ngolfers who appealed to St. Andrews for a ruling after one fateful medal\nday on their rain-swept course? The storm raged, the winds blew, and the\nrain drove through the players\u2019 garments to the most vulnerable parts of\ntheir body. And then one man lost his ball. The other espied a friendly\nhut and sought shelter there until his unhappy friend should find that\nwhich was lost. When it was discovered its owner likewise went to the\nhut and stayed there for a little while. Why did that golfer seek that\nhut so? He told St. Andrews that he went there because he had dirtied\nhis face, and his partner had a cloth wherewith it might be wiped! They\npleaded for qualification in their competition. \u201cOut upon you for\ngolfers!\u201d said St. Andrews angrily, and so it was decreed.\n\n\nII\n\nOn a frosty day one is apt to damage clubs. The clubmaker does not mind\nhis patrons playing on steely courses. The chances are that one man in a\nfew will need something doing to his shafts or his wooden heads as the\nresult of a day\u2019s play. The list of casualties at sunset is\nconsiderable, and somewhat reminds one of the early days when a golf\nclub was a much less lasting thing than it is at present. Old golfers\nare agreed that the breakage of a club by any kind of player is a thing\nof infinitely rare happening in comparison with what it used to be only\na very few years ago. How is this? It cannot be that beginners are any\nbetter or more careful than they used to be, and one is very doubtful as\nto whether the clubs are made any better (although, perhaps, a trifle\nmore elegant), or are endowed with any more strength than they were in\nthe olden days when there were fewer of them to be made, and when so\nmuch time was spent upon their individual perfection. Some people think\nthat the socketed shafts that have become firmly established are less\nreliable than others, and are more likely to give way under severe\nstrain from misuse, and yet how seldom do we really see a wooden club\ngive way at the socket? On the whole there can be no doubt that our\nmodern clubs are thoroughly well made, but that the real cause why we so\nseldom see breakages is the lighter work that the clubs have to do with\nthe rubber ball than they were set to in the old days of the gutta. In\nthose old days the jar of impact was harder, severer, harsher, and it\nsent a shiver through the wrapping of the club that, often repeated,\nmade for an eventual snap. Certainly the decrease in the breakages seems\nto date exactly from the beginning of the use of the rubber ball.\n\nI have just said that it cannot be that beginners are any better or more\ncareful than they used to be, but this is a statement that needs a\ntrifle of qualification. Your modern beginner has heard from many and\ndiverse authorities of the enormous difficulty of this game, and of the\nnecessity of treating it from the outset with the utmost possible\nrespect; but the neophyte of the olden days was often more of a\nslapdash, full-blooded fellow, who needed to have two or three strenuous\nrounds before the spirit in him was fairly broken and he became amenable\nto the reason of the links. A wonderful story of a wild opening to a\ngolfing career is that of Lord Stormont, when he was initiated at\nBlackheath some fifty years ago. His lordship had taken too much weight\nto himself, and Sir William Ferguson, his doctor, being consulted,\nsuggested that he ought to have more exercise, and thought that this\nmight best be administered in the form of golf. Sir William played golf\nhimself, and, like all good doctors, he recommended the game to lazy\npale-faced people whenever he thought the occasion opportune. He said to\nLord Stormont, \u201cGo down to Blackheath and put yourself in Willie Dunn\u2019s\nhands,\u201d Dunn then being professional at this historic course.\n\nLord Stormont had never seen a golf ball driven in his life, but he took\nkindly to the idea and repaired to Blackheath. Unfortunately he went\nthere for the first time on a club day, and on this day it was\nimpossible for Dunn to give him his services. But he did as well as he\ncould in the circumstances, and selected his very best caddie, one\nWeever, quite a capable teacher, and intrusted him with the onerous duty\nof teaching the game of golf to Lord Stormont. Dunn sold his lordship a\nfull set of good clubs by way of outfit, and away the two went. When the\nfirst round had been played, the round at Blackheath then, as now,\nconsisting of only seven holes, Weever returned alone to the\nprofessional\u2019s shop, with his pockets full of heads and his arms full of\nbroken shafts. My Lord Stormont had broken every one of his clubs, and\nhad sent his mentor back for a new complete set.\n\nIn the second round nearly all of these were broken also; and when,\nafter so many trials and tribulations, Dunn espied the noble beginner\nreturning from the seventh green, he was in some anxious doubt as to how\nhe should best make reference to the events of the day. It was at least\nencouraging that Lord Stormont was smiling, and so Dunn ventured to\nobserve, \u201cI am very sorry, my lord, that such disasters have befallen\nyou to-day in breaking so many clubs.\u201d For answer the new golfer tapped\nDunn on the shoulder, and said, \u201cMy dear fellow, don\u2019t mention it. I\nfeel this game has done me already a great deal of good, and it is going\nto do me still more. Have another set of clubs ready for me by Thursday.\nI shall be down then.\u201d How many sets of clubs went to the making of the\ngame of Lord Stormont no man knows.\n\n\nIII\n\nSometimes, in the long and dark evenings, golfers like to play their\ngames in thought by the fireside, and one may suggest to them a new\nkind of reflection and study which may prove at the same time\ninteresting and not without educational profit, particularly if such\nreflections are uttered in company and comparisons of views are made. A\ngolfer has no sooner come by some sort of a working knowledge of the\ndifferent strokes of the game than he longs for adventures on strange\ncourses, to play at holes that are new and strange to him, and--if it\nmust be--to niblick his way out of bunkers that are more fearful than\nanything he ever encountered on his mother links. This spirit is in\nevery way commendable, and the experience that results from it is one of\nthe best means of gaining skill and steadiness at the game. Thus it\nhappens that every player of two or three years\u2019 practice is acquainted\nmore or less with several different courses in various parts of the\ncountry, and it will generally happen that he has the kindest memories\nof certain holes on each, and that, in fact, there are some of these\nholes which are his special favourites for their particular length and\ncharacter. Now if by some impossible grant of nature it were to be\nordained that a special course should be made up, consisting of eighteen\nof his favourite holes, due regard being paid to the proper requirements\nof a golf course as to variety of length, which eighteen would he select\nfor the purpose, and why? Thoughts on these lines will help him towards\nan understanding of the points of a good course; for the average player,\nwhile he knows a good course when he sees it--or thinks he does--rarely\ntroubles to dissect his general appreciation. Even those players whose\ngame has been almost restricted to play on a few courses in the London\nor some other district, may entertain themselves by piecing up a new\nand better course than any they know from the materials with which they\nare supplied in all the holes they have ever played over.\n\nWith the idea thus presented, you may go on to making your own ideal\ncourse, and that some basis of necessary requirements may be afforded,\nit may be added that in the opinion of Mr. Harold Hilton such a course\nshould include three short holes, eleven holes requiring two shots to\nreach the green under ordinary conditions, and four holes which require\nthree shots to reach the green. Mr. Hilton adds that the short holes\nought not to be more than 200 yards long, and that in the case of the\nfour very extended holes the minimum of length should be 470 yards. The\nother holes he thinks should vary from 380 yards to 430 yards. In this\nconnection it is noteworthy that Mr. Hilton\u2019s selections are the Redan\nat North Berwick and the Himalayas at Prestwick for short holes; the\nAlps and the eighth at Prestwick, the sixth at Hoylake, the second at\nSt. Anne\u2019s, and the sixth at Sunningdale for two-shot holes; and the\nfourteenth at Sandwich, the seventeenth at St. Andrews, and the Cardinal\nat Prestwick for long holes.\n\nIn another part of the world there is something now happening that gives\na special point to these fancies. It is nothing less than the attempt,\nbacked up by enormous energy and practically unlimited capital, to make\n\u201can ideal course,\u201d combining all the best features of the particular\nholes that it is resolved to copy. A club called the National Golf Club,\nincluding among its members many of the best players and many of the\nrichest men in the United States, has been established, and they have\ntaken a big piece of territory on Long Island for the prosecution of\ntheir most ambitious scheme. One of the moving spirits, Mr. Charles B.\nMacdonald, well known to St. Andrews golfers, and the first American\namateur champion, spent a long time in this country about a year or two\nback, making a most exhaustive study of the best holes on our best\ncourses, and he went home to America with large parcels of most minute\nplans and photographs. The land chosen on Long Island is a fine piece of\ncountry for golf, and this is going to be--is being--so pulled about,\nbuilt up, and given the general appearance of having been acted upon by\nseveral earthquakes, to the end that the best possible copies of these\nholes shall be made. Although anything in the nature of an exact copy is\nmanifestly impossible in a large proportion of cases, despite all the\npowers of money and energy, it is declared that at least the underlying\nprinciples which account for the superlative excellence of the holes\nchosen as models shall be faithfully and accurately represented. It is\nprophesied that on these two hundred acres of land which have been\nbought at Peconic Bay, there will be combined in one eighteen-hole round\nthe best features of the most celebrated courses in the world; in other\nwords, \u201ca course that shall be the best in the world.\u201d This is a vast\nambition, and one which only Americans would find it easy to entertain.\n\nLet me mention what conditions Mr. Macdonald made for the selection of\nthese eighteen holes. He decreed that there should be two short holes\nfor iron shots, between 130 and 160 yards in length; two 500-yard holes;\ntwo of the \u201cdrive and pitch\u201d order, 300 to 320 yards; eight good\ntwo-shot holes, 350 to 470 yards; and four long one-shot holes varying\nfrom 190 to 250 yards, according to the contour of the ground, the\nlonger holes having the fair green falling towards the putting green.\nThese together would make up a course of about 6000 yards in length.\n\n\nIV\n\nOnce a year there is a great foursome played between a Colonel and a\nParson on the one side and an Author and an M.P. on the other, and they\nalways look forward to it with great keenness. It is a compact among\nthem that the match shall be played every year that all four are alive\nand within the United Kingdom. This is one of the most delightful kinds\nof matches, and no pleasure of reminiscence is so rich as that of\ngolfers such as these in looking back over ten or twenty years of\nmatches and comparing their recollections of them. All earnest golfers\nshould have some arrangement of the kind with their best friends.\n\nIt happened the other morning when this match was to be played, that a\ngreat disappointment was in store for the little party, as they took\ntrain from Charing Cross bound for that fine inland course some twenty\nmiles away to which they were all most devoted. Heavy clouds of ominous\ncomplexion were above at nine o\u2019clock, and there was a suspicious look\nand feel about the atmosphere; but, like all good golfers, these men\nwere optimists all, and would not mention to one another the fear that\nwas in their hearts.\n\n\u201cI daresay we shall have a very nice day after all,\u201d murmured the\nParson, and the Colonel stated that he was nearly certain that the glass\nwas rising when he last looked at it. A fine fellow is your golfing\noptimist. But when London had been left some ten miles behind, the\nhideous truth was exposed beyond any denial. It was snowing, and the\nchill of it went to the hearts of the golfers.\n\n\u201cOh, this won\u2019t be much,\u201d said the M.P., \u201cand it is certain to melt\nquickly, anyhow; see how watery are the flakes.\u201d\n\nBut when they arrived at the course it was snowing more than ever, and\nbig dry flakes were whirling in eddies all about, while the course\nalready lay an inch beneath a white covering. It was a bad case. Unless\nthere was a great change in an hour or so there could be no golf that\nday, and indeed the idea of it was already almost given up. The four sat\nin the smoke-room looking exceeding glum. Attempts to make congenial\nconversation failed. The Parson felt that it was incumbent on him to\ncheer up his friends, and after other kind efforts he bethought himself\nof what he considered to be an excellent story.\n\n\u201cUpon my word, you fellows,\u201d he said, \u201cI nearly forgot to tell you of\nthe most extraordinary occurrence that I have ever heard of, and one in\nwhich a strange point of golfing law is involved. The case must be sent\nto St. Andrews.\u201d\n\nEverybody was alert at this announcement. It is an excellent thing to\nknow that a poser of sorts is going to be put to that autocratic\nassembly in Fifeshire.\n\n\u201cSplendid!\u201d ejaculated the Colonel, \u201cwe must hear this story of yours,\nSeptimus; but I hope you are not going to pitch us that yarn you once\ntold me about your wife\u2019s brother having once played a low push shot\nacross a river, and a salmon leaping at the ball as it skimmed across\nand being carried with it on to the bank! We have heard that, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs I told you at the time,\u201d responded the Parson, \u201cI only repeated what\nmy wife\u2019s brother told me, and I certainly did not say that I had seen\nthe fish dragged on to the bank in that manner. But this story was told\nme by my son Richard, when he was down from Oxford last time, and he\ndeclares the incident happened on the course at Radley. One of the men\nwas engaged in a match, and going to the tenth he played a beautiful run\nup from forty yards off the putting green, that actually made the ball\nhit the pin and then it rolled into the hole; but it had no sooner got\ninto the hole than out it flew again, and after it came a large frog! It\nwas clear that the ball had rolled on the back of the frog in the hole,\nand that this frog, startled, no doubt, jumped up and out of the hole,\nejecting the ball at the same time. The ball came to rest on the green,\nand my son\u2019s friend thereupon claimed that he had holed out.\u201d\n\nFor a few seconds there was a stony silence, and then the Colonel burst\nout with a loud guffaw.\n\n\u201cMy dear old boy,\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cI am sure that you will find that\nstory, or one very like it, in the Old Testament somewhere if you look\nsufficiently. It is as old as the hills! You really should not tell us\nthese things. You know what the American did when he was told that\nstory? He put a recommendation in the suggestion book that the club\nshould urge upon the St. Andrews authorities that they should make an\naddition to the rules to something like this effect:\n\n\u201c\u2018If any frog, toad, snake, or other reptile, or a mouse, rat, weasel,\nmole, gopher, or other vermin (or in the case of casual water, a pike,\npickerel, perch, pompano, or other fish) be in or near the hole, its\npresence being established to the satisfaction of two independent\nwitnesses, such reptile, vermin, or fish must be removed before the next\nstroke is played, under penalty of the loss of the hole. Should a player\nunwittingly play at the hole when such reptile, vermin, or fish is in\nit, its presence being subsequently attested by the aforesaid\nindependent witnesses, and such reptile, vermin, or fish either hinder\nthe ball from entering the hole or eject it therefrom, the ball shall\nnevertheless be considered to have been duly holed, and no penalty shall\nbe incurred.\u2019\n\n\u201cStill,\u201d went on the Colonel, after this little pleasantry, \u201cyou have\ngiven us a most excellent idea, Septimus. Now let each one of us think\nawhile, and let us see who can present to our little company the\nstiffest poser in golf law. Each of us, I suggest, shall be allowed to\nlook at the rules for the space of ten minutes, no more and no less, and\nshall then have ten more minutes for consideration of his problem. What\ndo you say, boys?\u201d\n\nAll agreed that the idea was a most excellent one for the purpose of\nkilling time and gathering knowledge about the rules. It was decided\nthat the company should vote, if necessary, on the answers, and that\nwhile the Parson should be at liberty to choose his own position in the\nrecital in virtue of what he had done already, the others should draw\nlots. The reverend gentleman decided that he would go last, and, on lots\nbeing drawn, the Colonel was settled to present the first problem, the\nAuthor the second, and the M.P. the third. When the twenty minutes had\nexpired the four assembled at the table, and the Colonel was called upon\nto present his queer case. It was suggested to him that he should make\nit look as real as possible.\n\nHe submitted it as follows:\n\n\u201cHere is a nice point, which I think an Imperial Conference might be\ncalled upon to determine. General Botha, let us say, has a little dog,\nwhich takes some intelligent interest in the game of golf, as do many\nother dogs. He goes out to play a match with Dr. Jameson, and despite\nall rule and custom, \u2018Bobs,\u2019 as the little dog is called, is permitted\nto accompany them. When approaching the fourth hole the Doctor plays a\nlovely wrist shot with his iron which sends the ball on to the green,\ntrickling close up to the pin. In one of his frisky moments that\nwretched dog scampers after it, picks it up in his mouth before it (the\nball) had stopped running, and then begins playing about with it. The\ndog drops the ball on to the green two or three times, paws at it and\nplays with it, and then, seemingly struck by an inspiration, rolls it\ninto the hole. \u2018By Jove! That\u2019s my hole, then, Botha!\u2019 exclaims the\nDoctor, although the General has laid his ball dead with his mashie with\nthe like. \u2018How do you make that out? Let us be fair, now that we are\nsuch good friends,\u2019 says Botha. \u2018Most certainly,\u2019 replies the Doctor,\n\u2018but you must see that as the ball went into the hole from that last\nshot of mine I holed from that shot. Of course it was a pity that your\ndog got up to his tricks, but he is an outside agency, and I don\u2019t see\nthat it makes any difference to the result.\u2019 Botha thinks awhile. Then\nhe asks, \u2018Did you watch \u201cBobs\u201d closely while he had the ball?\u2019\nDr. Jameson assented. \u2018Then,\u2019 Botha says, \u2018there may be one\ncircumstance in which you do not win that hole, my friend, and when we\ngo to England we will discuss it with the authorities.\u2019 Now what was\npassing through Botha\u2019s mind, and is his point a good one anyway?\u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent for you, Colonel,\u201d said the M.P. after a moment\u2019s pause.\n\u201cNow, gentlemen, what must we do with Botha, for it is clear that we are\nthe authority to whom he refers. But then we have a right to know what\nit was that Botha had in his mind at the finish of his little argument\nwith Dr. Jim. You will tell us that, Colonel?\u201d\n\n\u201cBotha urges that he saw \u2018Bobs\u2019 let the ball come to rest when pawing it\nabout.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does Jameson say to that?\u201d inquired the Author.\n\n\u201cOh, Jameson does not deny it. He says that he did not see it, but he\nthinks it very probable, and he will certainly yield that point if it is\nmaterial, as he desires that the case should be settled strictly on its\nmerits, neither side taking any unfair advantage of the other.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a pity that they could not settle it on terms of equity,\u201d said\nthe Parson.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t agree that equity has anything to do with the case,\u201d observed\nthe Colonel at length. \u201cIt seems to me that Botha\u2019s point settles it,\nand that the ball must be played from the place where the dog allowed it\nto come to rest. I don\u2019t think Dr. Jim wins the hole at all. Rule 22\ngoverns the case partly but not entirely. By the way, Septimus, when we\nturn up rules to settle these cases, I think you should only look at\nthose affecting the one in hand, and not at other rules which have a\nbearing on the case you are to present. You have had your ten minutes\u2019\nstudy, you know. Now it is clear that the ball was in motion when the\ndog seized it, and if the dog then took it direct to the hole it all\ncounted in the stroke. This case does not come within the clause about\nthe ball lodging in anything moving, because the dog was not moving when\nit seized the ball. Once the dog let the ball stop on the green the\nstroke was ended. Therefore it is evidently a question as to whether it\nallowed it to come to rest or not, and Botha\u2019s evidence settles the\nmatter. What do you say, William?\u201d\n\n\u201cI entirely agree,\u201d responded the M.P.\n\n\u201cAnd you, Jim?\u201d\n\n\u201cI agree,\u201d said the Author.\n\n\u201cI trust we can count on your support, Septimus?\u201d said the Colonel,\nlooking across towards the Parson.\n\n\u201cOh, certainly,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cGentlemen,\u201d said the Colonel in his most official manner, \u201cit is\ndetermined that Dr. Jameson did not hole out with that stroke. I am\ninformed that they putted out afterwards, each in one more, and\ntherefore the hole was halved. Now, my literary friend, will you kindly\npresent your case?\u201d\n\nThe Author thereupon advanced his queer case as follows:\n\n\u201cA very awkward point has arisen in the course of play on the links at\nValhalla. Shakespeare and Bacon, who are staying there at the present\ntime, got up very early one morning, when the other golfers were asleep,\nand went out for a match, without caddies. Going to the seventh hole,\nwhich is both a short one and a blind one--a thoroughly bad hole--the\nplayers were not aware that the greenkeeper was on the putting-green\ncutting a new hole. They played their tee shots and then went forward to\nthe green, when they were surprised to find that the ball of each lay\ndead to a different hole. The greenkeeper had taken the flag and the\nmetal lining out of the old hole, and had cut the slab of turf out of\nthe new one, but had not at that time placed the metal cup or the flag\ninto the new one, nor put the turf into the old one to fill it up.\nBacon\u2019s ball lay dead to the new hole, and Shakespeare\u2019s to the old one.\nEach insisted on holing out at the hole to which his ball lay dead (the\nholes were many yards apart), and then the dispute began, each claiming\nthe hole. Shakespeare said that as the new hole was not finished the old\none was still in commission. \u2018No,\u2019 said Bacon, \u2018not satisfied with\ncheating me out of my plays, you now try to take my holes. We have\nevidently been playing at new holes all the way out so far, and we must\ncontinue to do so. It is the new holes that count.\u2019 \u2018But,\u2019 expostulated\nShakespeare, \u2018there are more old holes on the course at the present time\nthan new ones. And this wretched greenkeeper will take two hours to\nfinish his job. Must we dawdle behind him the whole way round? Let us\nask the greenkeeper which hole was most like a hole at the time the\nballs came on to the green.\u2019 The greenkeeper, however, was very\nill-tempered, having been nearly hit by one of the balls, and he\ndeclined to answer the question. He said that people had no business to\nbe playing on the course while holes were being cut, _no matter who they\nwere_. Eventually the parties gave up their match and went back to the\nclubhouse, when they agreed to submit the point to some carefully\nconstituted authority that would do its best to settle this most\nunfortunate and undignified quarrel between two eminently respectable\npersons of considerable standing.\u201d\n\nThe Author looked about him after this deliverance.\n\n\u201cH\u2019m!\u201d muttered the Colonel, \u201cnot bad for you, Jim.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d said the Reverend Septimus, \u201cthat Bacon certainly won\nif the new hole was full size, despite its not having had the tin put\ninto it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes, it was full size,\u201d interposed the Author.\n\n\u201cThe old hole,\u201d pursued the Parson, \u201cwas ground under repair, but if the\nnew hole was not full size Shakespeare won.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d remarked the Author, \u201cthe tin is only mentioned to indicate\nthe state of transition.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t agree with Septimus,\u201d said the M.P. \u201cThe rules do not provide\nfor this contingency, and it must be settled under the equity clause of\nRule 36. Regarding it in this way, it seems exactly six of one and half\na dozen of the other, and the best--indeed, the only thing--to do is to\nregard the green as under repair, and the hole as temporarily closed.\nShakespeare and Bacon should therefore call it a half and pass on. If\nthey had seen the flag before playing their tee shots it might have made\na difference.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am in entire accord with you, William,\u201d the Colonel declared.\n\n\u201cDitto,\u201d said the Author. \u201cThat was the ruling I had in my mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think we ought to have another opinion,\u201d persisted the Parson, \u201cbut\nfor the present I desire to go with the majority.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow let us hear the character of the problem that our friend the hon.\nmember for North-East Fife has to present to this tribunal,\u201d said the\nColonel, with an expectant look to the quarter indicated.\n\n\u201cMy case is a somewhat singular one, gentlemen,\u201d the M.P. responded. \u201cIt\nis this:\n\n\u201cA public road leading to the clubhouse crosses the line to the second\nhole, and when John Smith and Isaac Rosenstein were playing this hole it\nhappened that Isaac\u2019s bad slice landed his ball under the back seat of a\nmotor-car standing still in the road, said car, curiously enough, being\nthe new one which Rosenstein himself has bought this season, and which,\nit is suggested, he likes to \u2018show off\u2019 with. Seeing where the ball had\ngone to, and having the price of ten balls on the match, a thought\npassed through his mind. Hailing the chauffeur in the car, he exclaimed,\n\u2018You mitherable vellow! Did I not tell you to geep that car in the\ngarage at the back of the clubhouse, where it vould not be damaged. Be\noff vith you this very instant, or I vill sack you! Quick!\u2019 And before\nJohn Smith could speak the chauffeur was doing his forty miles an hour\nback to the clubhouse--with the ball still in the car. Smith and\nRosenstein then wrangled for hours, the latter being greatly astonished\nbecause his opponent objected to his dropping a ball, and that without\npenalty, at the spot where he played his last stroke. The points\npresented for argument are these: (1) Shall Rosenstein drop without\nlosing a stroke? (2) Shall he drop and lose stroke and distance?\n(3) Shall he not drop at all, but lose the hole? (4) Shall he play the\nball from where it lies under the seat of the motor-car in the club\ngarage, as, if he loses on the first two counts, he wants to do?\n(5) What ought to have been done?\u201d\n\n\u201cI trust that your friend Rosenstein will not offer himself as a\ncandidate for membership of this club,\u201d observed the Colonel with a\nsmile, \u201cbecause you might tell him if he thinks of doing so that I have\nheard of this incident, and I happen to be on the committee.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is no friend of mine,\u201d said the M.P.\n\n\u201cWell then, gentlemen,\u201d the man of arms demanded, \u201cwhat is your pleasure\nthat we should do in the _affaire_ Rosenstein?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think there is very much doubt about that,\u201d observed the\nParson, \u201cWe must be unanimous in this matter. I think we may safely\nleave it to you, Colonel, to make the award.\u201d\n\nThe M.P. and the Author assented, but it was understood that the former\nshould have the privilege of sending the case back for re-trial if he\ndisagreed.\n\n\u201cThen, gentlemen,\u201d said the Colonel, \u201cI give judgment as follows:\n\n\u201cRosenstein loses the hole. It was his duty to have played the ball from\nthe place where it lodged in the car, and there is a strong suspicion\nthat he knew it! He is not entitled to regard the car as an agency\noutside the match, since he controlled the car and ordered it away. By\nhis own act he made it impossible for him to obey the rules. He loses\nunder Rule 7, and it may be mentioned that the Rules of Golf Committee\nhas already decided that a ball played into a motor-car must be played\nout of it, or the hole given up. Clearly the ball lying in the car in\nthe club garage does not lie where it did before.\u201d\n\n\u201cI quite agree,\u201d said the M.P.\n\n\u201cBut should not something be done with Rosenstein?\u201d the Parson asked.\n\n\u201cThat is for his own committee to determine,\u201d the Colonel replied. \u201cWe\nhave no jurisdiction. And now, Septimus, I am sure that the tit-bit of\nthis sitting of the court will be submitted by you. We are anticipating\nthat. I beg to move that if your case is not so pointed and interesting\nas those already presented, you shall be condemned to give such an order\nto the steward as will do something to stifle our disappointment, and\ntake the chill from our blood on this wretched day. What do you think,\nmy colleagues?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is an excellent and a most proper idea,\u201d the Author said, and the\nM.P. concurred.\n\n\u201cAs you will,\u201d the clergyman assented. \u201cNow the little problem that has\narisen in my mind runs this way:--\n\n\u201cDives said to Lazarus, \u2018These are days of charity, my poor friend, but\nthe cases must be deserving. The par of this course is 74. If you can\nget round in 68 I will give you one twentieth of what I have got.\u2019\nLazarus wept tears of gratitude, and forthwith began to take lessons and\nto practise exceedingly, three rounds a day, for his handicap was 24.\nAnd years passed by and he did not go round even in par; but one day,\nhaving great luck, a sensation was caused about the links, and the word\nwas passed about that old Lazarus had got a 4 at the last hole to do 68.\nAnd he had. But he took 3 to get on the green, and then had a 10-yard\nputt for the 4 and 68, which was not an easy matter, particularly as\nthe putt was downhill and there was a big slope from the left as well.\nDives was watching and he smiled, but Lazarus was in sore trouble. Then\nhe bethought himself of an idea, and he placed a ball to the left of his\nown and he tried to putt it to a point exactly a foot to the left of the\nhole. First he found that he borrowed too much, and then too little, and\nnext that he was too strong, but eventually he got it right exactly, and\nhis ball just got to a foot to the left of the hole. \u2018Now, I know,\u2019 he\nsaid, and then he putted his proper ball, and with great confidence, and\nit went into the hole! Whereupon Dives was much wroth, and said, \u2018Surely\nI will not give you a twentieth of what I have got, for you have\noffended against the law and the spirit of the game, and you did not go\nround in 68, but are disqualified.\u2019 Lazarus said, \u2018Master, I have not\noffended against the law of the game, and as for the spirit thereof I\ncare not, for having gained the twentieth of what you have got I shall\nnever play it more.\u2019 And when they heard what Lazarus said they were\namazed, and they said they must have some proper judgment upon it. Does\nLazarus come into his fortune after finding the line and strength of his\nputt in that fashion?\u201d\n\nThe Parson seemed pleased with himself when he had finished his\nstatement.\n\n\u201cI believe the beggar\u2019s got off--Septimus, I mean!\u201d the M.P. ejaculated.\n\n\u201cI am sure he has,\u201d agreed the Colonel.\n\n\u201cNow, you see,\u201d put in the Author, \u201cthe wretched Lazarus did not tamper\nwith the line of the putt. He practised along what was to all intents\nand purposes that line; but it was not the line, or else he might have\nbeen caught. He placed no mark and drew no line.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is so,\u201d muttered the Colonel thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cHe clearly offended against the spirit of the game,\u201d the M.P. observed.\n\u201cYou or I would not have done such a thing in any circumstances, eh,\nColonel?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course not,\u201d the Colonel replied, \u201cbut it has to be remembered that\nthis was really almost a matter of life and death to the old man, and in\nsuch a case he was perhaps not to be blamed for sticking to the strict\nletter of the law. From our point of view the spirit is above the law;\nbut when it comes to a case of this kind, with goodness knows how many\nthousands at stake, a merciless fellow on the other side who is himself\ninclined to stick to the law exactly, and when Lazarus, as he says,\nintends to have done with the game, why I am not sure that from his\npoint of view--his, mind you--he is to be condemned for throwing the\nspirit overboard. His opponent would do so--in fact, to all intents and\npurposes he does. This has become a strictly business transaction. The\nquestion is, did he break the law?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou remember the Rules Committee\u2019s decision in the famous Selkirk case\nin 1906?\u201d the M.P. asked. \u201cIt showed the Committee\u2019s very proper anxiety\nto preserve the true spirit even to the extent of straining the\ninterpretation of the rule about touching the line of the putt. I\nbelieve some of them privately admitted that they were conscious of\nstraining it; but they were doing so in a very good cause, and to my\nmind they were to be applauded rather than blamed. In this case a\nfoursome was being played, and while one man was preparing to putt, his\npartner stood two yards beyond the hole on the other side, and from\nthere pointed out the line of the putt, incidentally letting his putter\nrest on the turf to do so--two yards beyond the hole. The opponents\nclaimed the hole on the ground that the line of the putt had been\ntouched, meaning that the line from the ball to the hole, continued\nbeyond the hole, was still the line of the putt. The case was sent to\nSt. Andrews, and the Rules Committee upheld the claim and gave the hole\nto the opponents--a remarkable decision!\u201d\n\n\u201cH\u2019m!\u201d the Colonel grunted. \u201cOf course, give some golfers an inch and\nthey will take a yard; and supposing the putter had been laid on that\nline only two inches beyond the hole, the green had been very keen, and\nhad sloped down to the hole from the back side. If the ball had got to\nthe point where the putter had rested it might conceivably have rolled\nback into the hole. There would be splendid justification for the Rules\nCommittee in a case of that kind, and it would prove the wisdom of the\nSelkirk decision. Of course every day of our lives we see golfers, when\nstudying their putts from the back side of the hole, allowing their\nputters to rest on the green in the continuation of the line. However,\nLazarus seems to have been quite clear of any decision of this kind. By\nno stretch of imagination can you call a line which is a foot to one\nside of the real line, although parallel to it, \u2018the line of the putt.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Americans have been tinkering with a proposed new set of rules,\u201d\nthe Author said, \u201cand one of their suggested rules prohibits a practice\nswing anywhere except on the tee. That would govern this case.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh yes, but what about our own code?\u201d the Colonel said.\n\n\u201cThe practice stroke is not forbidden,\u201d the M.P. observed after careful\nreference to the rules, \u201cbut I remember that on one occasion a very\nsimilar point was submitted to the Rules Committee, and they said that\nsuch a thing was so obviously contrary to the spirit of the game that\nthey had not thought it necessary to legislate upon the point. And they\nhave not done so, and\u201d--\n\n\u201cThat is so, and they were quite right,\u201d the Colonel interrupted\nhurriedly, \u201cbecause this is golf, and we cannot have rules in our code\nto say that men must not cheat, and the penalties for doing so. It would\nbe too much of a reflection on us as gentlemen and golfers. But here is\na most exceptional case, where advantage is taken of the omission, and\nLazarus appeals to the law and the law only. He will stand by the\nlaw--the strict letter of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe he must have his money,\u201d the Author said.\n\n\u201cIt is the law,\u201d said the M.P.\n\n\u201cI think so,\u201d put in the Parson.\n\n\u201cThen, Septimus,\u201d the Colonel concluded, \u201cwill you kindly tell your\nfriend Lazarus that he may send a chartered accountant round to Dives\u2019\nheadquarters to examine his financial position, with a view to a proper\napportionment of his estate on the basis of nineteen parts to Dives and\none part to Lazarus? And you had better tell the new record-holder at\nthe same time that we don\u2019t like this sort of thing, and we expect him\nto keep to his statement that he will not play the game again. He will\nhave the fever on him after that 68, and with a few thousands a year at\nhis disposal he will be after getting into all the clubs. I know these\nrenunciations of golf. I have renounced myself--hundreds of times!\u201d\n\nAt this moment the door opened and the steward entered to say that\nluncheon was ready. \u201cSplendid!\u201d exclaimed the Colonel. \u201cGentlemen, the\ncourt is closed!\u201d\n\n\nV\n\nGolf remained impossible in the afternoon, and the M.P. filled up his\ntime by working out some golf statistics with a view to indicating to\nthe ignorant public what was comprised in a year of golf.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d he said, \u201csooner or later some of the very high authorities\nwill find it to be necessary to take very serious notice of this game,\nof the number of people whose time it claims, of the land it engages, of\nthe capital sunk in it, and of the enormous current expenditure upon it.\nGolf has really become a considerable factor in the social scheme of\nthis country, and this must be recognised by legislators. I see that the\nUnion authorities at Wirral have been giving some attention to the\nmatter, with the result that they have jumped on the Royal Liverpool\nClub with an enormously increased assessment. The process of milking the\ngolfer will begin soon.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the Colonel indulgently, \u201cif our little game is to become a\nmatter of national importance, you will be having questions asked about\nit in the House before long; eh, William?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is odd that you should make that suggestion,\u201d the Parliamentarian\nresponded, as he began to rummage in the inside pocket of his coat,\n\u201cbecause I have a rather curious document here which amplifies it\nsomewhat. Let me see--I am sure I had it in my letter-case--well,\nwell!--Ah yes, here it is! I was going to say that one of the keenest\ngolf youngsters we have got in this Parliament is young Norris, whose\nconstant object in life seems to be to pair off with one of the\nOpposition down to Sunningdale. I believe he would rather win the\nParliamentary Handicap next year than get a small Government job. Well,\nin the House he is always filling up his spare time with the development\nof some golfing idea or other. The other night there was quite an angry\ndiscussion between him and another of his kidney upon the question as to\nwhether, if a ball were teed alongside the Beaconsfield statue, a Massey\nor a Braid could loft it over the Houses of Parliament and into the\nriver, and eventually the pair of them went out to see what sort of a\nshot it really would be. The next night, when somebody whispered to him\nthat there would be a lot more sense in discussing a Bill for the\nRegulation of the Rubber Core than the measure that just then was\noccupying the attention of the House, he got out some paper and\nconcocted what he called a \u2018Forecast of a Report of the Parliamentary\nProceedings in 1950,\u2019 and that is what I have got here. Just listen to\nthis for question time:\n\n\u201c\u2018HOUSE OF COMMONS--_Thursday_\n\n\u201c\u2018The Speaker took the chair at 3.5.\n\n\n\u201c\u2018UNREST IN MOROCCO\n\n\u201c\u2018In answer to Mr. R. Kore (+1), the SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN\nAFFAIRS stated that no more rubber-cored balls would be shipped to\nMorocco until some kind of guarantee had been given by the Maghzen that\nBritish golfers would be treated with respect and every consideration\nextended to them in the pursuit of their game. Latest advices were to\nthe effect that parties of Moors had constantly collected round the\nninth green at Tangier and the third at Mogador and had made faces at\nthe players while they were putting, causing them the most intense\nannoyance and completely ruining their play. His Majesty\u2019s ships _Baffy_\nand _Niblick_ had been instructed to proceed to Mogador without delay,\nand left Gibraltar on Friday. (Loud cheers from both Government and\nOpposition benches.)\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. A. GUTTA (10): Is it a fact that Germany has encouraged the Moors\nin these acts of rebellion? (Loud cries of \u201cOrder.\u201d)\n\n\u201c\u2018THE SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS: The hon. member must\nperceive that public considerations make it undesirable that any answer\nshould be given to his question.\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. WILL LABOR (40): Will the right hon. gentleman inform the House\nwhat are the handicaps of the British officials at present in Morocco,\nand will he state whether in his opinion the rebellious attitude of the\nMoors has been caused to some extent by the inferior playing capacity of\nthese servants, which has been such as to excite the derision of the\nnative population? (Loud cries of \u201cOrder\u201d and \u201cWithdraw.\u201d)\n\n\u201c\u2018THE SPEAKER: The hon. member must not cast aspersions on the handicaps\nof the public servants of His Majesty\u2019s Government.\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. LABOR: I could give them all a stroke a hole! (\u201cOh, oh.\u201d)\n\n\u201c\u2018THE SPEAKER: I must ask the hon. member not to persist in these\nreflections on the playing quality of the Government servants in\nMorocco, and to withdraw what he has already said.\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. LABOR: I withdraw. No doubt they are all Vardons. (\u201cOrder,\norder.\u201d)\n\n\u201c\u2018THE SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS: It may interest the hon.\ngentleman the member for Woolwich, to know that a cable received at the\nForeign Office this morning stated that the British Consul at Mogador\nhad just holed out with a mashie shot. (Loud and prolonged cheering.)\n\n\n\u201c\u2018GREAT BRITAIN AND RUSSIA\n\n\u201c\u2018In answer to Mr. T. Box (+4), the PRIME MINISTER (+7) said that there\nwas no development to report in the negotiations which were at present\nproceeding with the Government of Russia. The British Government had\nsuggested that under clause 563B of the Hague Convention the differences\nexisting between the two Governments should be decided by one\nprofessional foursome, but Russia had replied that this suggestion was\nobviously unfair, unless the British Government gave an undertaking not\nto select Taylor and Braid as their representatives. In the absence of a\nfriendly understanding on such lines as these, there would be nothing\nfor it but for the British Government to pour golfers into Russia with a\nview to winning all their monthly medals and cups, and with such a\npossibility in view detachments of our best players had been mobilised\nand were now doing two practice rounds a day at Sandwich and Prestwick.\nThe transports _Stymie_ and _Bunker_ were in readiness, each stored with\nten thousand boxes of the best balls. (Loud Government and Opposition\ncheers.)\n\n\n\u201c\u2018THE BOOM IN THE BALL TRADE\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. R. TISAN (20) asked whether it was true that the ballmakers of\nGlasgow had been working twenty-four hours a day for the last six weeks,\nand in some cases more.\n\n\u201c\u2018THE PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF TRADE (scratch): In no case have these\nballmakers been working more than twenty-three hours a day, and they\nhave been paid at the full twenty-four rate, and are quite satisfied. If\nGreat Britain did not make and sell the balls, America would.\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. R. TISAN: But they have no time left for play.\n\n\u201c\u2018THE PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF TRADE: They play nine holes in the\ndinner hour instead of utilising it in the customary manner. (\u201cHear,\nhear.\u201d)\n\n\n\u201c\u2018NO STYMIES\n\n\u201c\u2018In answer to Mr. Foozleum (42), the MINISTER OF EDUCATION (2) stated\nthat it was not true that the children in the schools at Hoylake and\nWestward Ho! were being taught to play no stymies, or that they were\nsystematically encouraged to play the score game to the neglect of true\nmatch play. What had happened was simply this, that there had been\ncomplaints that the last lot of mashies that had been received from\nTaylor and Forgan had not sufficient loft for very young players, and\nthat all attempts to loft over stymies with them had failed, though the\nsenior players experienced no such difficulties. In the circumstances\nthe teachers, acting under authority of the Board of Education, had\nthought it best to suspend stymies until more mashies came to hand. As\nto score play, the simple fact was that one or two of the senior\nstudents were going in for the Open Championship, and had been doing a\nlittle practising in view of it. It might interest the House to know\nthat one of them, Smith by name, had done a round of 75 at Hoylake with\na wind blowing straight upwards from the turf. This was a splendid\nperformance, and showed the efficacy of the new Education Act which the\nGovernment brought into force last year, which made the use of the\n_Complete Golfer_ compulsory in all elementary schools. (Loud\nMinisterial cheers.)\n\n\n\u201c\u2018BILLS\n\n\u201c\u2018The Bogey Amendment Bill was read a third time and passed.\n\n\u201c\u2018The Women\u2019s Handicaps Bill was read a first time.\n\n\n\u201c\u2018CHAMPIONSHIP COURSES\n\n\u201c\u2018The House then went into Committee on the Championship Courses Bill.\n\n\u201c\u2018MR. JOHN BLUMOND (scratch) asked how much longer the just claims of\nIreland were to be ignored. Irish golfers were in such a state of\nirritation, due to the way in which they were neglected, that it was\nimpossible for them to settle down to the improvement of their game,\nwith the result that Irish driving was never so bad as at present, and\nhis suffering compatriots could not putt for nuts or potatoes.\n[LEFT SITTING].\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cRather good,\u201d commented the Author at the end of this recital. \u201cWasn\u2019t\nit that young Norris who circulated the jest that if he could play his\nmashie pitches properly he would be down to scratch and in the running\nfor a small kind of office, and that if he could get to plus 7 he would\nbe the President of the British Republic?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s the man,\u201d the M.P. answered. \u201cVery nice sort of chap, too. We\nmust bring him down here one day. Richardson took him down to Rye for a\nweek-end once, but had to go back to town again without him at the end\nof a whole week.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa!\u201d said the Colonel, \u201cbut that\u2019s nothing in comparison with the true\nstory of the non-golfer who went to Sandwich for a week-end nine years\nago, and at the invitation of his friend experimented with the game, and\nhas been down there ever since, playing it!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood man!\u201d exclaimed the Author.\n\n\u201cBut what about these statistics, William?\u201d the Colonel inquired.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the M.P., \u201cI have calculated that at the present time there\nare over a million acres under golf in Great Britain, and that a\nsum-total of about \u00a34,700,000 a year is now spent on the game in this\ncountry. But you get the queerest results when you come to consider the\nballs that are used in a year, and what happens to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cProceed,\u201d said the Colonel.\n\n\nVI\n\n\u201cNow, just consider the ball,\u201d the M.P. responded. \u201cPretty little\npimpled thing, isn\u2019t it? Stuffed full of delight! Full of promise for at\nleast two hours\u2019 fine health-giving enjoyment! We used to think a\nhalf-pound tin of our favourite tobacco was the most heartening sight to\nsee; but a box of new balls has it now. One ball is such a tiny little\nthing. You can hold sixteen of them in one hand! I have seen a man hold\neighteen, and possibly that is the record. Giving a ball four rounds of\nlife, two men could play together morning and afternoon for more than a\nfortnight with the balls that are held in this hand. But just see how\nmany are needed by the great world of golf!\n\n\u201cTo begin with, there are said to be 300,000 golfers in this country. It\nhas been reckoned that at the height of the summer golfing season, when\nthe players are busy everywhere, not less than 500,000 balls are used up\nevery week. This, indeed, seems to be a most reasonable estimate--less\nthan two balls per man per week, with an enormous percentage of players\nout on the links four or five days a week. It was semi-officially stated\nlast June that one firm of makers, and that not by any means the\nbiggest, was working night and day, and turning out 100,000 balls a\nweek. Decidedly half a million is well within the mark. Taking the whole\nyear round, if you say one ball per golfer per week, that is surely a\nvery modest reckoning. It is practically a certainty that it is an\nunderestimate. At that rate we have a grand total of 15,000,000 balls\nused up every year by the British golfers on British links. Fifteen\nmillions!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious!\u201d the Parson exclaimed. \u201cOne would hardly believe it!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, let us see what we can do with these 15,000,000 besides play\n6,000,000,000 shots with them, which is what may be done, allowing four\nrounds to each ball and a hundred strokes to each round, and what with\nfoozlers, women, and children, you will find that a hundred is a very\nfair average, even if it is only the medal-winning score of the\n20-handicap man.\n\n\u201cSeven balls go to the lineal foot, and thus there are forty-nine of\nthem in the square foot. It seems hard to believe that all the balls of\na year could, if packed nicely together after the fashion of eggs, be\nlaid out in a fair-sized field of seven acres. But stay! I can give you\nsome fancy idea of what this annual ball crop really means after all.\nThere are seven to the foot--in one little lineal foot you have\nsufficient balls to last a careful week-end player for a couple of\nmonths. Now, bring out the army of caddies that there are in the country\nand set them to work teeing the balls up right against and touching each\nother in a line, beginning with the first at Charing Cross, or, to be\nmore appropriate, on the Mid-Surrey course at Richmond. Then proceed\nnorthwards. There will still be a few balls left in the pockets of the\ncaddies when they have continued that long line of one year\u2019s balls\nright away through Rugby, Stafford, Carlisle, and over the Border range\nto Edinburgh, and on to the Braid Hills course. We can join the premier\ncourses of two capitals with the balls of one year, for the line we make\nis 405 miles long, and at 11_s._ or 12_s._ a foot it would be\nconsiderably more expensive than the ordinary permanent way. It is a\nwonderful line. Nine yards of it will last a busy golfer a whole year,\nand he need never be reproached for putting down a dirty ball.\u201d\n\nThe Hon. Member for North-East Fife was fairly warmed to his theme by\nthis, and he pursued enthusiastically: \u201cThere is some food for\nreflection in the incidental mention that I have just made that the\nBritish golfers play 6,000,000,000 shots every year. _Puck_ boasted some\ntime ago that he could \u2018put a girdle round about the earth in forty\nminutes.\u2019 It might surprise this sprite to know that the British golfers\ncould do the job in ten minutes, which is the time we might give them to\ndrive a dozen balls each from the tee. If those were fair drives, and\nwere put end to end, they would easily go round the world, with a little\nto spare. Evidently, then, the British golfers go the distance of the\ncircumference of the world many times over in the course of the year.\nYou may take it that the average player, what with going off the line,\nwaddling about on the putting greens, walking from green to tee, and so\non, does a tramp of four miles in every round of eighteen holes that he\nmakes. At four rounds a week, that is sixteen miles a week, or eight\nhundred in the golfing year of fifty weeks, a fortnight\u2019s holiday for\nillness, dissipation, and foreign travel, being allowed in all these\nannual calculations. So our 300,000 British golfers in the course of the\nyear walk and tool their balls for a matter of 240,000,000 miles. Most\nof this abundant exercise would not be taken if there were no golf.\n\n\u201cThis 240,000,000 of miles means that if the British golfers had a\nlinks round the middle of the earth they would collectively play 60,000\ntimes round it in the course of the year. They would be almost jostling\nand continually driving into each other. There would be a shriek of\n\u2018Fore!\u2019 from the Gulf of Guinea to Borneo, and it would be wailed across\nthe wide Pacific. It would prevent overcrowding and blocking at the\nshort holes if a course were laid out to the sun and back, and the\nBritish golfers were started off at five minutes intervals. It would be\nnearly 93,000,000 miles to the turn, and the same back, and if the\nBritish golfers then did a short round to Venus and home again, putting\non another 50,000,000, they would nearly have done their usual year\u2019s\ngolf.\n\n\u201cBut this little glimpse into the fairyland of golf,\u201d said the Hon.\nMember in a tone of conclusion, \u201chas all come about through the\ncontemplation of that simple-looking pimply little ball, and it is time\nwe wound up our consideration of it. It has been said that there are\n15,000,000 used in Britain in the year. Suppose the average cost is\n1_s._ 6_d._, which it probably is. That means that the nice little sum\nof \u00a31,125,000 is spent by the British golfer in the course of the year\nin golf balls.\u201d\n\n\u201cProdigious!\u201d exclaimed the Parson.\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know what you think, William,\u201d put in the Colonel, \u201cbut\nmy recommendation is that all facts which indicate the extensiveness of\nthis game, and the enthusiasm of its followers, such as some of those\nyou have quoted, had better be kept to ourselves. On one day in April we\nshall be having a Chancellor of the Exchequer coming along with a fine\nscheme for paying the National Debt off by means of golf. And now, boys,\nwe\u2019d better be off. Next Thursday, we said, didn\u2019t we? And it\u2019s to be\nred balls then, if necessary!\u201d\n\n\nVII\n\nWhen the short days, wet and cold, come on, some golfers speak of the\nvirtues of close seasons for games. There never can be any regularly\nordained close season in golf; such is neither needed nor desired. But\nnow and then some men will try the imposition of such a season on\nthemselves.\n\nThey oil and put away their clubs, give away their stock of balls, put\neverything connected with golf away into the box-room, and settle down\nto a course of winter reading, study, and attention to those domestic\nand social matters which have for so long been sadly neglected. All goes\nwell for a week, and then they think there will be no harm in getting\nout an aluminium putter and practising on the hearthrug for five minutes\nor so in the evening. This is found to be a wonderfully interesting\noccupation, and presently they unstore the mashie or well-lofted iron in\norder to practise negotiating stymies--a form of practice which cannot\nfail to be useful in the forthcoming season. Ten days later they ask\nthemselves what is the use of being strong-minded and miserable, they\nring up somebody on the telephone, and they catch the next train down to\nthe course.\n\nIn the majority of cases the particular way in which the cold affects\nthe members of the close-season party and crabs their shots, is in\nreducing their wrists and hands to a state of numbness in which it is\ncertainly difficult for anybody to play the game as it ought to be\nplayed. Such people may be recommended to adopt a very simple device,\nwhich is in favour among the best and sturdiest players, namely, that of\nwearing knitted cuffs or mittens over those wrists and coming some way\nup on the hands. Mr. Hilton carries this idea to the extent of wearing a\nspecial kind of thick, warm cuffs made of fur, and the effect is to keep\nwarm those important and much exposed veins in the wrists which feed the\nhands with blood. The difference is wonderful; but if it is still\ninsufficient to enable the man to do what he considers justice to his\ngame, and if he is still miserable, there is no harm in his imposing a\nclose season upon himself. But he must not talk like the fox who lost\nhis tail, and try to induce others to stop the game as well. It is no\nuse pretending that the game generally would be any the better for it.\n\nBut let us take the question as to whether a man\u2019s golf, supposing it is\nnormally good golf, ever can be any better for a more or less lengthy\nstoppage, and upon it I have taken the opinions of several different\nauthorities, with the result that, though they do not all agree, there\nis a strong balance in favour of keeping your golf going all the time if\nyou want to improve or even maintain it at its best standard. You will\ngenerally find that it is only the amateurs who ever get really stale.\nThe professionals rarely do. Mr. Horace Hutchinson is apparently one of\nthose who do not believe in giving up one\u2019s golf for any length of time.\nHe thinks the results are generally disastrous, and he tells how on one\noccasion in his earlier days, when he was reading for the Bar, he did\nnot look at a golf club for some months, with the result that when he\nresumed the game he found that he had forgotten a great deal of it, had\nto relearn it, and found even then that it was not the same good game\nthat he had been bred up with. He now counsels all who are going\nanywhere for a long holiday or anything of that kind, on no account to\ngo near a place where there is no golf course, for the result will be\nthat life will never be the same again as regards its golf. \u201cYou never\nplay again,\u201d he says, \u201cwith the same confidence, the same fearlessness,\nthe same certainty that you can control the ball and make it do what you\ntell it to do. You may make something of the game afterwards, but I am\nsure that you will lose immensely. You do not play in the same\ninstinctive way as before.\u201d Men like Braid and Vardon would not say\n\u201cThank you\u201d for a month\u2019s holiday in which they could not play golf\nregularly, despite the fact that they are always playing. One recent\nwinter Harry Vardon was sent to Bournemouth for his health, and they\ntook good care to see that his clubs did not go with him, and solemnly\nwarned him that he must not play there, for he might have been equal to\nborrowing somebody else\u2019s clubs. Then he would write to London in a most\npathetic manner, saying, \u201cThey won\u2019t let me have my clubs and play,\u201d as\nif he were being deprived of food and the necessaries of life.\n\nThere are some exceptions to this rule of continual play that may be\ntaken as proving it. There is the case of Andrew Kirkaldy, who, after\nbeing second for the Open Championship in 1879, went for to be a\nsoldier, was sent to Egypt, fought at Tel-el-Kebir and other places,\ncame back in 1886, and soon afterwards tied for the Open Championship.\nMr. Edward Blackwell had two separate spells of farming in California,\neach lasting about five years, during which periods he never saw a golf\nclub or ball, but each time he came home he regained his best form\nalmost immediately, and captured Royal and Ancient Club medals. But,\nafter all, in golf every man must be to a large extent a law unto\nhimself; and the fact that he is so is one of the glories of the game.\n\n\nVIII\n\nIt is a glorious thing to play a game that one need never give up,\nhowever long one may live. And what is more, the game can be played well\nby the veteran, and he enjoys it almost as much as ever, and does not\nmerely take part in it for the sake of the fresh air and the exercise.\nPossibly if he had not been a golfer in his middle age, and perhaps in\nhis youth as well, he would not be able to play any game, even a\nfireside game, by the time he was due to become an octogenarian. For\nsome years previously his pleasures would have been with the angels. One\ncannot discover who is the oldest golfer, but there are many still\nactive on the links who are nearing ninety, including a celebrated\npeer-patron of the game. Considering the matter from the other point of\nview, we have the remarkable fact that nearly every professional golfer\nof note in these days (and a large though decreasing proportion of\namateurs) began to play golf of some sort as soon as his baby\nintelligence had developed sufficiently to make him understand that if\nhe hit a ball with a stick it would move. They began to play as soon as\nthey could walk, and almost to a man they declare that the very first\nmemories they have of anything in life are associated with playing some\nkind of childish golf, and aping their elders in every possible way.\n\nIt is to the fact of their having done so that they attribute most of\ntheir success in their after life at the game. As children they\ndeveloped a free, easy, natural swing that has stood them in good stead\never since, and it has become so rooted into their system that they are\nfar less liable than other golfers who began much later, to be\nconstantly going off their game and dropping out of their proper swing.\nHarry Vardon, James Braid, J. H. Taylor, Alexander Herd, Willie Park,\nJack White, and all the rest of them played golf as the very smallest\nchildren. The two last-named both declare that they developed their\nextraordinary putting faculties when they were mere babies. Park, a king\nof putters, it is certain, gained his extraordinary delicacy of touch,\nand fine discrimination in selecting the line to the hole, through\npractising as a very small boy with marbles on the stone or brick floor\nof his father\u2019s workshop at Musselburgh, a slight hollow in the floor\nbeing regarded as the hole. He got a passion for such putting practice,\nand at nights would surreptitiously borrow the key to the shop and hie\nthere with some other boys for putting practice. He says that he has\nnever had such hard putting to do since, and that when in due course he\nwent out on the links to play the real game, putting seemed very easy to\nhim. The first clubs that Alexander Herd ever used were glued together\nfor him by his mother, and his first golf was obtained in the streets of\nSt. Andrews. It was much the same with several of the best amateurs,\nthough from the evidence that one can obtain they do not appear to have\nbeen such keen golfers when babies as were the professionals.\nMr. Hilton, one of the most skilful amateurs of any time, thinks he was\nabout six when he first went forth to try to play with a full set of his\nfather\u2019s clubs.\n\nThen, practising all through their childhood and youth, at what age did\nthese men first begin to play first-class golf, and to give signs of\ntheir future greatness? From an analysis I have made of their own\nstatements, and the events of their careers, I find that in nearly every\ncase it was at about seventeen--just when their stature and physical\npowers had fairly fully developed. In practically all cases men who were\nsubsequent champions were good scratch players at this age. But you will\nalways find that it takes them many more years after this to make their\ngame perfect--many years of the hardest and most persistent practice\nconceivable. Mr. Hilton came on very quickly, being in championship form\nwhen he was twenty-two, and Taylor had fully matured by the time he was\ntwenty-three. But Harry Vardon was twenty-six, and Braid was thirty-one.\nGenerally a man who is destined to play the great golf, and who has been\nat it all his life, does not begin to settle down to the steady\nbrilliant game until he has passed twenty-five, and from that point he\nusually improves a little until he is thirty, at which he is at his very\nbest. Thirty is the golden age for golf. Look back through history, and\nsee how formidable have been the great men at that age. The fact may be\nuseful evidence against those who sneer about the \u201cold man\u2019s game,\u201d as\nshowing how long it takes to attain perfect golf when everything is in\nyour favour. Mr. Barry\u2019s victory in the amateur event when he was\nnineteen, and those of Mr. Travis and Mr. Hutchings when these\ngentlemen were quite middle-aged (anyhow, Mr. Travis, the younger, was\nforty-three), have to be regarded simply as phenomena, and as the\nexceptions which prove the rule. The tale of the ages, as gathered from\nall experience, seems to be that the ideal golfer begins as a baby, is\nscratch at seventeen, a champion at twenty-five or twenty-six, and\nperhaps again at thirty-two, and that thenceforth he plays serenely on\nuntil at eighty-five or thereabouts he engages in a great foursome with\nother old warriors. And, taking it all round, a very good time he has\nhad.\n\n\nIX\n\nIn the dampest and gloomiest days of the British winter, the golfer\u2019s\nfancy often flies to Riviera and Egyptian courses; and a while later the\ngolfer follows his fancy, so that he may have a dry game in the sunshine\nagain. Golf in Egypt is a thing to itself. \u201cThrough the green\u201d it is\nmere sandy desert, for bunkers there are chiefly mud walls, and the\nputting \u201cgreens,\u201d which vary a little on the different courses, are\ngenerally made of rolled mud. Yet this golf is eagerly participated in\nand most thoroughly enjoyed by the large British population. They would\nnot be without it for a thousand Pyramids. They have their competitions\nand they have a championship of their own. Egyptian golf has a curious\nhistory. It is nineteen years since the game was first played in the\nLand of Pyramids--that is to say, since two players drove from a tee and\nholed out on what they called a \u201cgreen\u201d; but some time before that a\nball was hit by a golfer. The circumstances are remarkable and are\nworthy of the baptism of an ancient country like Egypt to a Royal and\nAncient game. Rameses II. and Cleopatra would have approved.\n\nThis is the true story. A full-blooded Scottish golfer, imbued with all\nthe best traditions, and all the better for being a clergyman, none\nother than the well-known Rev. J. H. Tait of Aberlady, went for a\nholiday to Egypt, and duly climbed to the top of the Great Pyramid.\nArrived there he rested, and to do so the more effectually he put his\nhands into his pockets, when, curiously enough, he felt a golf ball in\none of them. In a moment the golfer was ablaze in the parson, and he\ndetermined that right there on the summit of the Great Pyramid of Cheops\nhe would play the game for the first time in Egypt. So he teed up the\nball and addressed it most elaborately and conscientiously with his\numbrella, for, of course, he had no clubs with him. There were none in\nEgypt. Then he made a bonny St. Andrews swing: the ball went spinning\naway through the fine desert atmosphere and was never seen again--by the\nman who hit it, at all events. There were some great jokes about this\nshot afterwards. They said that in future days some old antiquary would\nfind this ball in the desert sand, and would try to make out the\nhieroglyphics (the name of the maker, Tom Morris) upon it. As they would\nthen be indistinct it would be suggested that they stood for Moses, and\nthe inference would be that the lawgiver of Israel was a golfer.\n\nSome years after that a course was laid out near Cairo. The men who made\nthat course and played the first golf were none other than Mr. J. E.\nLaidlay, twice Amateur Champion, and Sir Edgar Vincent, who won the\nParliamentary handicap in 1905. This was in 1888, and Sir Edgar had\nonly had one taste of golf previously, that being in the previous\nsummer, but he thought it would be as well to take his clubs with him to\nEgypt. Mr. Laidlay, going to Egypt also, thought the same thing; but\nwhen they got there they found there was no golf at all. They did not\nknow each other; but Sir Edgar knew Mr. Laidlay by reputation, sought\nhim out, and they conferred together on the miserable character of the\nsituation. Mr. Laidlay was famishing for some golf, and stirred up a\ngreat enthusiasm in the other, so they agreed that they would go out\ninto the desert together and make a course.\n\n\u201cWe made a survey of the outskirts,\u201d said Sir Edgar, \u201cand found the\nmaterial to be of the most unpromising description--seven parts sand and\none part scrub everywhere. There was one comforting fact, and that was\nthat our bunkers were ready made, for there were bunkers everywhere.\nMr. Laidlay\u2019s enthusiasm overcame everything, and by dint of hard labour\nand perseverance we soon had a nine-hole course laid out. In this way we\nwere certainly the pioneers of golf in Egypt, and, as I believe, in\nAfrica.\u201d When Mr. Laidlay went home again he entered for the Amateur\nChampionship and won it for the first time. One of the first converts to\ngolf in Egypt was Lord Cromer.\n\nThere are now nine clubs and courses in Egypt. At Cairo the round\nusually consists of twelve holes, although there are two more which are\nvery seldom played. It is desert golf, and the \u201cgreens\u201d are brown\npatches of puddled earth, over which sand is sprinkled daily to true\nthem up and slow them down a bit. Some say that the golf at Helouan is\nthe best in Egypt, and others prefer the Assouan course, in the making\nof which Mr. John Low had much say and which he has visited since. Here\nthe greens are made of rolled Nile mud. But most prefer the Mena House\ncourse, which is laid out on a bit of the very small area of grass there\nis in Egypt, which is so precious that players are requested to play\nonly in rubber-soled shoes for fear of breaking it. For part of each\nyear the course is under water. Not only is there grass here, but the\ncourse is laid out alongside the Great Pyramid, the shadow of which is\nthrown across it. This Great Pyramid--2,000,000 cubic feet of\nstone--gives golfers a queer feeling if they catch sight of it when\nswinging for their drive. When Napoleon was beginning the battle of the\nPyramids hereabouts, he said to his men, \u201cSoldiers! from the summit of\nyonder Pyramid forty ages behold you.\u201d That is so, and the golfers may\nwish they did not. They may think it is no game for spectators of this\nkind.\n\n\nX\n\nMany golfers, like others who are not golfers, have come to the\nconclusion that in the twentieth century it were better for them and\ntheir game to think and grow thin. One of the most enthusiastic and\ndetermined says that success in the game depends chiefly on the stomach,\nand one is half inclined to think that he is right. He is, to this\nextent, that it is hard to play fine golf when the interior mechanism is\nin bad working order. And it is quite apparent that we modern golfers,\nlike other people who are outside the pale of our noble game, are not\nthe possessors of such strong heads and tough digestive apparatus as\nour ancestors of the links used to be. The man in the street dare not\nfor his life walk into the Cock Tavern and call the \u201cplump head waiter\u201d\nto bring him a pint of port just because it is five o\u2019clock, as Tennyson\nused to do as regularly and deliberately when he was Fleet Street way,\nas if it were nothing more fortifying than tea that he demanded. The\nmodern man would be too much afraid, lest perchance he should not know\nwhen it was six o\u2019clock. We are not like our forefathers, and we can\nnever be like them. There is a queer tale of a comparatively modern\ngolfer who drank deeply overnight, so that his path to his bedchamber\nwas one of tortuous difficulty, but who, nevertheless, got up in the\nmorning to win a championship; and it is not many years since a picture\nwas drawn for a text-book on golf in which it was suggested that \u201cthe\nman to back\u201d was he who was sitting down to something in the nature of a\nPorterhouse steak with a not very small bottle of wine at the side of\nhis plate.\n\nFrom a high moral point of view those ancestors of ours who bred\ninferior stomachs for us were, of course, wrong, and yet they did many\nfine things on their pints of port. They wrote great prose and verse,\nthey painted fine pictures, their taste and skill in handicrafts were\nsuperb, they won the battle of Waterloo and the battle of Trafalgar, and\nthey could--most undoubtedly they could--play golf. Having regard to the\nquality of their tools and the state of the upkeep of their links, they\nmade many fine rounds, which showed that they had great skill, that they\nhad a fine steadiness of hand and eye, and even that they upon occasion\nwent in for thinking golf!\n\nAnd of all the types of the modern Britishers\u2019 ancestors, give us for\ngreat courage at the board and for a capacity for high enjoyment\naccording to his lights, the golfing ancestor! He was a rare fellow. He\nwent out to play his round by day, and he foregathered the same evening\nwith the others of his golfing society and celebrated the day as many\npersons say that a good day should be celebrated. And it was a matter of\nduty with him too, not merely inclination. On the morning of the play\nand dinner days of some of the fine old Scottish golfing societies, it\nwas the custom to send the boy of the club round to each member\u2019s house\nsummoning him to the meeting, and taking his name if he promised to be\npresent at the evening meal.\n\nThe old golfers saw to it that the quality of all the fine things of\nwhich they partook was of the very best, for leading features of their\ndinners were the gifts of various members of their own company, and it\nwas the common custom before each gathering was ended to make large\nprovision for the next one in the way of promises of food and drink, and\nthese promises once made were exacted to the last ounce and drop, under\npenalty of fines of dozens and cases of wines and spirits.\n\nNo club has richer traditions in this respect than the old North\nBerwick. The viands that its own company sent to its table for its\nconstant meetings were fine things. One time Mr. Hay of Rockville sent\nalong a round of beef stewed in hock. Sir D. Kinloch sent Shetland beef,\nthe Duke of Buccleuch contributed large quantities of venison and\nvenison pasty, while the Earl of Eglinton, as an apology for his absence\nfrom one meeting when captain, sent a fine buck. As for liquids,\nSir David Blair presented the club at the start with three dozens of\nchampagne, and thereafter it became the custom to fine a member exactly\nthat for any delinquency or omission on his part. Thus we have a minute\non the books for 23rd September 1835, which reads: \u201cAt dinner it was\nvoted unanimously, on the motion of the captain, that Mr. John Sligo be\nfined in a case of three dozen champagne for not sending a cook as\nproposed by himself, by which means the turtle, venison, and other\ndelicacies were entirely destroyed.\u201d Judging by the temper of these old\nNorth Berwickers, and of the importance that they attached to these\nthings prandial, one would have been inclined to congratulate Mr. Sligo\non the leniency with which his grave offence was treated. Whisky by the\ndozen and half-dozen came from Campbell of Glensaddell and Macdonald of\nClanranald, shrub from Mr. Whyte-Melville, rum from Major Pringle, casks\nof beer and porter from various other members, and so on; claret,\nwithal, which was presented in large quantities, being the favourite\ndrink.\n\nEven if one be but a drinker of tea and ginger ale, there is some\ninterest in reading of the exploits of the old-time golfers of Edinburgh\nand Musselburgh. In the \u201cbett book\u201d of the Honourable Company, under\ndate of 4th January 1766, there is the rule entered: \u201cEach person who\nlays a Bett in the Company of the Golfers, and shall fail to play it on\nthe day appointed, shall forfeit to the Company a pint of wine for each\nguinea, unless he give a sufficient excuse to their satisfaction\u201d; and a\nmost interesting entry in the minutes of 16th November 1776 tells us\nthat \u201cthis day Lieutenant James Dalrymple, of the 43rd Regiment, being\nconvicted of playing five different times at Golf without his uniform,\nwas fined only in Six Pints, having confessed the heinousness of his\ncrime.\u201d To this minute, signed by the captain, there is appended a\ncodicil, stating, \u201cat his own request he was fined of Three Pints more.\u201d\nAlways pints, and never pounds or guineas. The Company even thought that\nit was a proper thing for it to pass a formal resolution adopting\ncertain liquors as the club drink, just in the same way as they would\nadopt a uniform. Thus, on 11th December 1779, the sentiment of Christmas\nbeing already abroad, it was resolved and duly entered on the minutes,\nthat \u201cPort and Punch shall be the ordinary Drink of the Society, unless\nupon these days when the Silver Club and Cups are played for. At those\nmeetings Claret or any other Liquor more agreeable will be permitted.\u201d\n\nO, say some, for the days of famous Jamie Balfour, secretary and\ntreasurer of the Company in 1793! Never was jollier golfer. And never a\nman more honest, more deservedly popular, and loved by all his\ncontemporaries than he, as witness the fact that when, alas! he went to\nthe links of Valhalla before he reached the age of sixty, the company\nmourned for him as golfers had never mourned before. They met at a\nspecial meeting and dinner in the most solemn mourning, with the Captain\nin the chair and Sir James Stirling, Baronet, Lord Provost of the City\nof Edinburgh, beside him, and drank to Balfour\u2019s memory in the most\nsolemn of toasts.\n\nJamie looked upon the wine when it was red; he could see no virtue in\nself-denial. He liked the sound of the drawn cork. When he heard one\ndrawn in any house that he happened to be in, which gave an unusually\nsharp report, he would call out, \u201cLassie, gie me a glass o\u2019 that!\u201d not\ntroubling to ask what the wine was, but taking it for granted that for\nsuch a report it must needs be good of its class.\n\nA story is told that a lady who lived in Parliament Close, Edinburgh,\nwas wakened from her sleep one summer morning by a noise as of singing,\nwhen, going to the window to learn what was the matter, guess her\nsurprise at seeing Jamie Balfour and some of his boon companions,\nevidently fresh from an orgie, singing \u201cThe King shall enjoy his own\nagain\u201d on their knees around King Charles\u2019s statue. It used to be said\nthat Balfour could run when he could not stand still, and the story is\ntold that on one occasion, going home late from a festive night, he\nhappened to tumble into the pit formed for the foundation of a house in\nSt. James\u2019s Square. A gentleman passing heard his wailing, and, going up\nto the spot, was entreated by Balfour to help him out. \u201cWhat would be\nthe use helping you out when you could not stand though you were out?\u201d\nsaid the passer-by. Whereupon Jamie retorted, \u201cVery true, perhaps, yet\nif you help me up I\u2019ll run you to the Tron Kirk for a bottle of claret.\u201d\nAnd he did; and having won the first bottle, Jamie exclaimed, \u201cWell,\n\u2019nother race to Fortune\u2019s for another bottle of claret,\u201d and he won that\none also.\n\nIn its ancient days the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews was\ngreat on fines in wine. It promoted conviviality on every possible\noccasion, and, indeed, one of the first of its minutes that are now\ndiscoverable says, under date 4th May 1766, \u201cWe, the Noblemen and\nGentlemen subscribing, did this day agree to meet once every fortnight,\nby Eleven of the clock, at the Golf House, and to play a round of the\nlinks; to dine together at Bailie Glass\u2019, and to pay each a shilling for\nhis dinner--the absent as well as the present.\u201d It was some two or three\nyears after this that means were devised for augmenting the dinner wine\nthrough the various social delinquencies of members. Thus, on\n4th September 1779, a resolution is passed as follows: \u201cIt is enacted\nthat whoever shall be Captain of the Golf, and does not attend all the\nmeetings to be appointed throughout the year, shall pay Two Pints of\nClaret for each meeting he shall be absent at, to be drunk at such\nmeeting; but this regulation is not to take place if the Captain be not\nin Fife at the time.\u201d Many years later, in 1818, the wine tax on\nabsentees was applied to members generally, under interesting\ncircumstances, as indicated in the terms of the resolution that was\npassed, which read: \u201cThe Club, taking into consideration that the\nmeetings have of late been thinly attended by the Members residing in\ntown, in consequence of several members giving parties on the ordinary\ndays of meeting, and thereby preventing those who would otherwise give\ntheir presence at the Club, from attending them, Do Resolve, that in\nfuture such Members as shall invite any of their friends, Members of\nthis Club, to dinner on the days of meeting, shall forfeit to the Club a\nMagnum of Claret for himself, and one bottle for each Member so detained\nby them, for each offence, and the Captain and Council appoint this\nResolution to be immediately communicated to General Campbell.\u201d On\n16th September 1825 a minute is entered, \u201cWhich day the present Captain,\nhaving imposed on himself a fine of a Magnum of Claret for failure in\npublic duty, imposed a similar fine on the old Captains present.\u201d It is\nquite evident that in these rich old days the social side of golf was\ncultivated in a manner that makes the worthiest efforts in this\ndirection in the twentieth century look mean in comparison.\n\nThe men of the old Musselburgh Club were great in conviviality. Here is\na remarkable entry taken from their minute-book: \u201cMusselburgh,\n11th January 1793.--The Club met according to adjournment. The meeting\nwas so merry that it was agreed that matching and every other business\nshould be delayed till next month.\u201d\n\nOn 11th May 1798, when the Club held its meeting, the question was put\nas to whether the funds should be disposed of by the members present or\ndelayed till the December meeting, when it was resolved by a majority\nthat the company then present should determine it. Thereupon it was put\nto the vote as to whether the funds should be drunk, or part of them\ntaken to \u201cgive their Myte to the Voluntary Subscription in aid of the\nGovernment,\u201d and it was carried unanimously that Five Guineas should be\nsent to this fund in the name of the Club, and that the remainder of the\nfunds should be disposed of at the December meeting. Meeting at Moir\u2019s\non 16th February 1810, the members \u201cResolve, That an annual subscription\nof One Guinea be paid by each member, from which fund the expense of the\ndinners is to be in future defrayed, but all the expenses of liquors to\nbe defrayed by the company present. And any overplus at the end of each\nseason to be sunk in a General _Gaudeamus_.\u201d\n\nThe old records of the Bruntsfield Links Golf Club are similarly\nentertaining. On 27th April 1822, \u201cCaptain Kilgour informed the meeting\nthat Mr. Williamson had sent a small cask of spirits of his own\nmanufacture as a present to the Club. The Secretary was ordered to\ntransmit the thanks of the Society to Mr. Williamson, and to inform him\nthat he was unanimously elected an Honorary Member.\u201d On 29th June 1842\nwe are told that \u201ca very large party dined at Cork\u2019s, and the evening\nwas spent with more than stereotyped happiness, harmony, and hilarity. A\nnumber of matches were made. Mr. S. Aitken (not, of course, when madness\nruled the hour) pledged himself if, and when, Deacon Scott married, to\npresent to the Club half a dozen of wine, and the like quantity to the\nobject (lovely, of course) of his choice! This happy evening \u2018through\nmany a bout of linked sweetness long drawn out,\u2019 partook of the\ntransitory nature of all earthly things, and, as one of our poets\nsays, broke up!\u201d\n\nAfter the meeting of the Bruntsfield members on 17th December 1842, \u201cA\nlarge party dined at Goodman\u2019s, and spent a very happy evening, not the\nless so that some member, to the company unknown, made the handsome\npresent of half a dozen of Champagne. Mr. Brown, after some very\napposite remarks, read an interesting paragraph from the _Bombay Times_\nof the 19th October last, noticing certain proceedings of a Golf Club\nformed in the East Indies, which gave rise to much felicitous\ndiscussion, and the appointment of a deputation, consisting of the\nCaptain and Mr. Paterson, to meet and compete with the like, or any\nnumber of the Indian Club, the deputation to travel at the Club\u2019s\nexpense and by the new Aerial Transit, which is expected to start early\nin February next.\u201d They were in a happy mood that evening.\n\nThe minutes record that on 18th October 1845, \u201cThe Club dined in the\nMusselburgh Arms Inn, and spent a very happy evening; but the meeting\nhaving been prolonged beyond the period at which the omnibus (in which\nseats had been taken) started, the members found it necessary to walk\nthe greater part of the way to town.\u201d\n\nRich, indeed, were those ancient days of golf!\n\n\nXI\n\nAnd so, heigho! another full year of golf has run to its end, and we\ncome to pause for a little while to reflect upon the new chapter that\nhas been added to the long happy story of our play; for, indeed, it is\ntrue of us golfers, as it is of others, that \u201cwe spend our years as a\ntale that is told.\u201d For some days now the links which have served us so\nfaithfully and so well during all this year, have been at rest, asleep.\nNature, the gentle considerate nurse, sometimes comes to the help of\nthese precious acres of green turf in that season when their lot is the\nleast happy, fending away us tyrant masters while she lays them to\nrepose and wraps up each teeing ground and putting green and all the way\nbetween in the thick mantle that she weaves herself. Perhaps the players\ndo not always know that the grass welcomes this snow, and is not, as\nthey might imagine, stifled with it and reduced to such unconsciousness\nas to be near the point of death. The snow both nourishes and warms the\nworn-out turf--collects and holds down for its sustenance all the\navailable nitrogen in the atmosphere, and then covers it with that thick\ncloak which generates only warmth beneath. Presently, when the frosts\ncease and the snow melts and the grass lies bare again, those who have\nrecollection enough for the comparison will see that it is greener and\nstronger than it was before. When there is a championship in prospect on\nSt. Andrews links, the wise and good greenkeeper there beseeches kind\nNature that of her infinite variety she will vouchsafe to his little\npatch of earth for some several days of winter a heavy fall of snow,\nthat in due course he may better serve up to his master golfers a links\nof such perfection of order as will please them to the utmost. What\nshall he care if the old grey place is beleaguered by these storms of\nsnow, if the Swilcan Burn is almost covered up, and if it would be as\nmuch as the life of the captain of the Royal and Ancient Club were worth\nto try to find the line to the Long Hole? Hush, you grumbling golfers!\nThe old course, weary, is at rest; and patiently will the happy\ngreenkeeper wait for its awakening. There is something of pathos in the\ntime and the scene, as:\n\n   \u201cFull knee-deep lies the winter snow,\n    And the winter winds are wearily sighing;\n    Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow,\n    And tread softly and speak low,\n    For the old year lies a-dying.\u201d\n\nHow much does it mean to us, does a year of golf! In the last few\nmoments of the year that you give up to golfing thought and reverie as\nyou sit by the cheerful fire, and perhaps, according to the old fancy,\ntoy on the hearthrug for a while with the putter that you hold at\nconvenience in the corner, and the memento ball that you preserve upon\nthe mantelpiece--at such time make a pleasant reflection upon all the\njoy and the gladness, and the health and the adventure, and the glorious\nrivalry and close comradeship that have been crowded into this short\nspace of time! Above all, think how much nearer in most blessed\nfriendship has this year of golf drawn you to those who are most after\nyour own heart! There is no habit of man that can do more than golf\ntowards such an end as this, and it is in his abundance of the best\nfriends that a man lives most happily and to the best purpose.\n\nAnd the golfer has seen more of the year, of the real year of Nature so\ncomplex and so complete in its variety and balance, than the other men\nwho live in towns. He braved it in the open lands through the bitter\nweeks of January and February, and he was cheerful through the winds and\nrains that followed, for as the rainbows spread across the sky he knew\nthat the glorious spring had come, most heartening time of all the\ngolfing year. Then would he stamp his feet on turf grown firm, and\nacclaim his ball with affection for its constant cleanliness. The\ngolfer, even he of the town, hears the change in the song of the birds,\nhe notices the newcomers among them; he has interest in the leafing of\nthe trees, and lo! the big sun of summer shines upon him. And when can\ngolfer be happier than when, after droning lazily through a hot\nafternoon, he plays an evening round upon the links in those most\nperfect conditions for pure delight? Surely it is hard to say which of\nthose rounds is the best, that of the spring morning, the autumn\nmorning, or the one in the balmy evening of June. And the golfer, bold\nand lucky, who once in a way makes his ripest play on some wild day in\nDecember when the wind from the sea comes like a blast across the links\nand all above is dripping scud, would in his pride not grant that the\ngolfer lived his life at the full on any of those other days of peace\nand calm. So, from the play in the long summer twilight, we wander down\nthe year, through brown October to the greys that follow, and the white\ncurtain falls at last upon the exhausted season.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n  Aden Golf Club, 10\n  African coast, golf on the, 12\n  Age for golf, best, 293\n  America, golf in, 12\n  American ladies\u2019 golf, 100\n  Anderson, Jamie, 89\n  Antarctic, golf in the, 11\n  Arabia, golf in, 10\n  Archerfield golf course, 140\n  Architecture, different classes of golf, 134\n  Argentine Republic, golf in the, 10\n  Asia, golf in, 10\n  Australia, golf in, 10\n  Austria, golf in, 9\n  Autumn meeting at St. Andrews, 186\n  Axes of rotation, 209\n\n\n  Bagdad, golf at, 10\n  Balfour, Jamie, 301\n  ---- The Rt. Hon. A. J., as a golfer, 37, 90\n  Ball, Mr. John, 124\n  Balls, different kinds of, etc., 54, 58;\n    price and quality of, 59;\n    rival manufacturers, 112;\n    points of good, 203;\n    too far-driving, 240;\n    used in a year, 285\n  Barry, Mr. A. G., 293\n  Belgium, golf in, 9\n  Biassed balls, 205\n  Bicycles and golf, 158\n  Blackheath golf course, 159\n  ---- golfers, 160, 256\n  Bogey, 234;\n    origin of, 237\n  Boulogne, golf at, 8\n  Braid, J., 26, 27, 293\n  Brassey, an ideal, 44\n  Briars hole at Hoylake, 125\n  Broughton, Capt., 53\n  Bruntsfield links, 77\n  ---- ---- Golf Club, 304\n  Buccleuch, Duke of, 299\n  Building estates and golf, 232\n  Bunkers, movable, 241\n\n\n  Caddies, 148\n  C\u00e6sar\u2019s pits on golf courses, 11\n  Cairo, golf at, 296\n  Calabar, golf at, 12\n  Campbell, Mr., of Saddell, 55\n  Canada, golf in, 10\n  Canary Islands, golf at the, 8\n  Carnoustie golf links, 141\n  Carry from drive, 196\n  Chaplains to golf clubs, 64\n  Charm of the game, 1\n  China, golf in, 8\n  Cinque Ports Golf Club, 145\n  Classification of courses, 134\n  Clergymen and golf, 61\n  Close seasons, 288\n  Clubs, names for, 41;\n    ideal, 42;\n    favourite, 114, 115\n  Cold weather, 289\n  Colonies, golf in, 10\n  Commercialism, 226\n  Community of interests, 179\n  Companion for golfing holiday, 125\n  Companions of old players, 47\n  Competitions, new, 242\n  County unions, 244\n  Courses, altering to suit new balls, 241\n  Crawford, \u201cBig,\u201d 40, 61\n  Croquet and golf, 174\n  Cruickshank, Mr., of Langley Park, 97\n\n\n  Deal golf links, 116, 136, 145\n  Dinners, golfing, 297, 299\n  Diplomacy and golf, 13\n  Disappointments, 33\n  Dog dropping ball in hole, 265\n  Drive, longest possible, 216\n  Driving, Prof. Tait on, 215\n  Dunn, the brothers, 50\n\n\n  East Indies, golf in the, 10\n  Ecstasy, greatest, in golf, 163\n  Eglinton, Earl of, 299\n  Egypt, golf in, 12, 294\n  Enthusiasm, greatest, 76\n  Errors, popular, 201\n  Examinations in rules, 243\n\n\n  Favourite holes and courses, 258\n  Feats of golf, 91, 111\n  Ferguson, Robert, 48\n  Flight of golf ball, 194\n  Footpaths and roads, 158\n  Forbes, Duncan, 221\n  Foursome, a famous, 140\n  France, golf in, 8\n  Frog in the hole, 263\n  Frosty days, 255\n  Future, concerning the, 30\n\n\n  Gate-money and golf, 230\n  Germany, golf in, 9\n  Gourlay, Douglas, 80\n  Government of the game, 244\n  Graham, Mr. John, junr., 124\n  Gravity and the golf ball, 197\n  Great Pyramid, 297\n  Gullane, golf at, 139\n\n\n  Haskell ball, invention of, 57;\n    success of, 58\n  ---- Mr. Coburn, 57\n  Health and golf, 291\n  Helouan, golf at, 296\n  Herd, A., 26, 152\n  Hilton, Mr. H. H., 29, 115, 259, 293\n  Holes, in process of changing, 267\n  Holidays, golfing companions on, 125;\n    advice on, 127;\n    returning from, 132\n  Holland, golf in, 9\n  Honourable Company of Edinburgh golfers, 64, 221, 300\n  Hope in golf, 3\n  Hoylake, golf links, 122, 137\n  Huntercombe course, 11\n  Hutchings, Mr. Chas., 293\n\n\n  Ideal clubs, 42\n  ---- course, 259\n  Imaginary golf, 181\n  Impact, duration of, 200\n  International aspect of golf, 14\n  Italy, golf in, 9\n\n\n  Jones, Rowland, 26, 152\n\n\n  Kaiser William and golf, 9, 220\n  Kennedy, Lord, 97\n  Kent, golf in coast of, 144\n  Kilspindie golf course, 140\n  Kimberley, putting greens at, 10\n  King Edward VII. as captain of the Royal and Ancient Club, 220\n  ---- James II., 224\n  ---- of Spain as golfer, 220\n  ---- William IV. medal, 190\n  Kinloch, Sir D., 299\n  Kirkaldy, Andrew, 27, 152, 290\n\n\n  Ladies\u2019 golf, 85, 98\n  Laidlay, Mr. J. E., 92, 172, 295\n  Leith, golf at, 79, 224\n  Line of the putt, 272\n  London, as centre of game, 146\n  Long grass, 85\n\n\n  Macdonald, Mr. C. B., 260\n  M\u02bbKellar, Alexander, 76\n  March, 24\n  Match-book, on keeping a, 17\n  Maxwell, Mr. Robert, 25\n  Medal play, 84\n  Mexico, golf in, 12;\n    travelling in, 152\n  Midland Association, 244\n  Morris, Tom, junr., 47\n  ---- Tom, senr., 50, 55, 140\n  Mother course, a golfer\u2019s, 160\n  Motor-bicycles, 157\n  Motor-car, ball in, 270\n  Motoring and golf, 150\n  Mud, questions to Rules Committee about, 81\n  Muirfield golf links, 140\n\n\n  Names for clubs, 41\n  Napoleon\u2019s camp, golf on, 8\n  National Golf Club, U.S.A., 259\n  Nature lover, golfer as, 193, 308\n  New Zealand, golf in, 10, 80\n  Night, match at, for \u00a3500, 96\n  North Berwick links, 25, 136, 139\n  ---- ---- old club, 299\n\n\n  October, 191\n  Old age, golf in, 291\n  Old-time golfers, 297\n  One, holing in, 86\n\n\n  Park, Mungo, 141\n  ---- W., senr., 25, 141\n  Parliament, golf in, 278\n  Patersone, John, 226\n  Pegwell Bay, 147\n  Picture, valuable, hit by golf ball, 110\n  Polar golf, 11\n  Politics of the game, 244\n  Porthcawl golf links, 141\n  Practice stroke on putting green, 272\n  Prestwick golf links, 25, 136, 143\n  Pretoria, putting greens at, 10\n  Primitive instincts, 5\n  Prince\u2019s Club, Sandwich, 145\n  Professional matches, 26\n  Put off, being, 157\n  Putting, in medal play, 83;\n    hesitation in, 107;\n    difficulties of, 166;\n    psychology of, 169;\n    thoughts during, 171;\n    things hurtful to, 176;\n    line in, 272\n  Putting green, curious, 10\n\n\n  Queen Adelaide Medal, 188\n\n\n  Rain on the links, 16\n  Resting from golf, 289\n  Rhodesia, golf in, 94\n  Risks of golf, 93\n  Riviera, golf on the, 294\n  Roads and footpaths, 158\n  Robb, Mr. James, 167, 172\n  Robertson, Allan, 47;\n    fine play at St. Andrews, 49, 55, 140\n  Royal and Ancient Club, 41, 186, 247, 302\n  ---- Liverpool Golf Club, 123, 277\n  ---- Musselburgh Golf Club, 99, 304\n  ---- St. George\u2019s Golf Club, 145\n  Rules, points on the, 261\n  Rules Committee, 80\n  Russia, golf in, 9\n\n\n  St. Andrews, charm of, 118;\n    by-laws at, 120;\n    bunkers at, 121;\n    class of links, 137;\n    holes at, 158;\n    autumn meeting at, 186;\n    early times at, 221\n  St. Clair, Wm., of Roslin, 222\n  St. Petersburg, golf near, 9\n  Sandwich golf links, 138\n  ---- Islands, golf in the, 10\n  Scientific investigations, 194\n  Score, keeping, in match play, 102\n  Seasons, changing, 192\n  Secret of the charm of the game, 1\n  Seed, sowing, 190\n  Selkirk decision, 274\n  September, 46\n  Shafts, socketed and scared, 255\n  Shakespeare and golf, 31, 34\n  Sheltering from bad weather, 254\n  Siam, Royal Bangkok Golf Club, 10\n  Snow, 306\n  Societies, golfing, 177\n  South Africa, golf in, 10, 95\n  ---- America, golf in, 10\n  Spin of golf ball during flight, 198, 202, 208, 213, 214\n  Spring, 1, 15, 35\n  Statistics, 284\n  Stormont, Lord, 256\n  Sun on the links, 16\n  Sunningdale golf course, 136\n  Superstitions of golf, 114\n  Sussex Union, 244\n\n\n  Tait, F. G., his match-book, 21, 196, 220\n  ---- Rev. J. H., 295\n  ---- P. G., Professor, experiments and investigations in flight\n    of golf ball, 194, 222\n  Tangier, golf at, 8\n  Taylor, J. H., 26, 27, 293\n  Tee shot, pleasure of hitting good, 163\n  Temple of golf, 219\n  Tests of balls, 206\n  Thibet, golf in, 10\n  Thoughtful study of the game, value of, 67\n  Trajectories of balls, 210, 212\n  Travelling for golf, 148, 156\n  Travis, Mr. W. J., 115, 171, 173\n  Triumvirate, the, 27, 28, 29\n  Troon golf links, 25, 136\n  Turkey, golf in, 10\n\n\n  Unions, golfing, 244\n\n\n  Vardon, H., 26, 27, 293\n  ---- T., 27\n  Victoria Falls, ball driven over, 111\n  Vincent, Sir Edgar, 295\n\n\n  Walton Heath golf course, 11, 136\n  Wandering player, 118\n  Warwickshire County Union, 244\n  Water shots, 253\n  Weather, bad, 251\n  Wei-hai-wei, golf at, 8\n  Welsh Union, 244\n  White, Jack, 26, 29, 152\n  Wind in golf, 24\n  Winter, 251, 306\n  Worcestershire County Union, 244\n\n\n  Yorkshire Union, 244\n\n\n\n\n_Printed by MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, Edinburgh_\n\n\n\n\n  [Transcriber\u2019s Notes:\n\n  Inconsistent hyphenation retained.\n  Errors in punctuation repaired.\n  Pages 22 and 128, \u201cslightest\u201d changed from \u201cslighest\u201d (without the\n    slightest chance; the slightest provocation).\n  Page 29, \u201cpopular\u201d changed from \u201cpopuler\u201d (great and popular player).\n  Page 34, \u201ca\u201d inserted (Could a golfer).\n  Page 45, \u201ca\u201d inserted (a good human).\n  Page 90, \u201cPoint Garry\u201d changed from \u201cPointgarry\u201d (It was Point Garry).\n  Page 94, \u201ccourt\u201d changed from \u201ccourts\u201d (may a man court).\n  Page 115, \u201chave\u201d inserted (Other golfers have).\n  Page 224, \u201cseventeenth\u201d changed from \u201cseventeeth\u201d (of the seventeenth\n    century).\n  Page 242, \u201cThey\u201d changed from \u201cThen\u201d (They play, say,).\n  Page 262, \u201coccurrence\u201d changed from \u201coccurence\u201d (the most\n    extraordinary occurrence).\n  Page 305, duplicated \u201cof\u201d deleted (one of our poets).\n  Page 313, \u201cSandwich\u201d changed from \u201cSandwick\u201d (Prince\u2019s Club,\n    Sandwich).\n  Page 314, \u201cWei-hai-wei\u201d changed from \u201cWei-hai-Wei\u201d (Wei-hai-wei, golf\n    at).]","title":"The Spirit of the Links","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":93394}