If the game is to be umpired, there should be one for each side of the net, who shall call play at the beginning of a game, enforce the rules, and be sole judge of fair and unfair play, each on his respective side of the net.
We have followed the best manual and the best opinions of the most successful players in the above lengthy abstract for the use of many who may be confused by the very absurd and contradictory rules published in the newspapers. These rules of ours are those which were used at Newport, at the Casino, during the famous Lawn Tournament of 1880, which was so very interesting, and in which the victors were rewarded by prizes, from Mr. Bennett, of silver pitchers, bracelets, and rings of great value; and which shows that the game of lawn tennis deserved the high encomiums pronounced by Henry III on court tennis. It is a game of science; it does exercise every part of the body; and it requires skill, good temper, staying power, judgment, and activity.
Of course, few groups at home will play with the science and skill displayed in these tournaments; yet the rules of the game should be thoroughly learned, and those who play scientifically will avoid those contentions and disputes which spoil any game.
It is better in giving a lawn-tennis party not to invite any but those who really are devotees of the game. As to others, the absorption of the players makes the party stupid.
[XI.]
GARDEN PARTIES.
A Garden Party is a scene of enchantment, to which the lawn-tennis net lends an additional grace and variety.
A lady, living near a city, who chooses to inaugurate the season with a garden party, sends her invitations a week in advance, and carefully incloses a card telling her guests by what roads, railway trains, and boats she may be reached. There must be no confusion or lack of carriages at the end of the route. This hospitality must cover everything. If the weather is fine and the distance short, ladies generally drive to these entertainments in gay dresses and bonnets or hats; for a garden party should look as much like a Watteau as possible. Those who have had the advantage of seeing a garden party in England—at Holland House, or at Buckingham Palace—will remember how beautiful, finished, and gay a scene it is. A dressy parasol and a fan hung at the side are indispensable. Ladies go either in the short Amazonian dresses which the practice of games has made so fashionable, or else in Worth’s last and most elegant trailing costumes, trusting to the grass being dry, and knowing that they can sit on the piazza.
Most garden-party givers provide band music, which plays either in the grand hall, or at some spot on the lawn where dancing can go on. But our turf is not like the English turf, and modern dancing is not that springing measure of “young Bertine,” as she bounds under the walnut-trees of Southern France. So we can not count in dancing as one of the usual pleasures of a garden party, unless a broad platform is laid; and this has in its way a very pretty effect under the trees or in a large tent.