On board the steamship the luckiest passengers in the dining-salon are those who are fortunate enough to be allotted seats at the captain’s table.
CHAPTER XXVIII
IN SPORT
SPORT, scientists tell us, is a relic of prehistoric pursuits; and the so-called sporting instinct is a stirring of the primeval nature within civilized breasts. Perhaps that is why more people forget the first tenets of good breeding when competing in various forms of outdoor exercise than in nearly all the other walks of life put together.
The man who would view with an amiable smirk the spilling of a glass of Burgundy over his white waistcoat at a dinner, will often exhibit babyish rage at the breaking of a favorite golf-club or the stupidity of a caddie. The girl whose self-control permits her to smile and murmur: “It’s really of no consequence!” when a dance-partner’s foot tears three yards of lace off her train, will seldom show the same calm good-humor when her opponent at tennis serves balls that are too swift and too hard-driven for her to return.
There are many concrete and a few general rules for behavior in sport of all sorts, the observance or neglect of which denotes the “thoroughbred” or the boor far more accurately than would a week full of ordinary routine.
The general rules apply to every form of sport. They are, briefly:
First, last and always—keep your temper! Remember the word “sport” means “pastime.” When it becomes a cause of annoyance or impatience, or an occasion for loss of temper, it misses its true aim and you are not worthy to continue it.