Training for match play is rather a difficult subject for me to write about, for I have never gone in for proper "training." The great secret is to keep perennially fit. Remember that an important match is a great strain, a challenging test of stamina. To come through the ordeal successfully you must be in a good condition of health. If you are not, you ought not to be playing. Personally I know what it means to play an important match when feeling really ill. Honestly it is not worth it. It is no enjoyment to yourself, and it is no pleasure to your opponent to beat you when she knows you are unfit. Besides, it is very injurious to your own health. On the other hand, if you are in good condition, and leading a healthy outdoor life, a well-contested match cannot harm you; it is most beneficial in every way. Therefore I think the best training for an important match is to be always in "training"; not to have to alter your habits before a match is the secret. To change your diet and mode of living suddenly, as some players do, is more calculated to upset you than to make you fitter for the ordeal. Common sense must of course be used. For instance, you should not eat a heavy meal just before playing. I generally prefer bread-and-cheese, a milk pudding of some sort, and perhaps a little fruit for lunch if I have a match, in the afternoon. I find this diet very satisfying and sustaining, and of course much lighter than meat. Bananas or apples go very well with the cheese. As I like this sort of lunch at any time, I do not have to change my diet materially before a match. After the day's play is over, I make absolutely no difference, eating for dinner in the evening whatever is going. Lunch is the chief meal over which care should be exercised, for important matches generally begin about two o'clock. A heavy meal would make me slow and sleepy. I know of one well-known player who never has any breakfast at all. She may play hard matches all the morning, and when the luncheon interval arrives she has only bread-and-cheese and fruit. Of course this is a very exceptional case, and I should not care to try it myself. I find a good breakfast a necessity before a long and hard day at a tournament. But the no-breakfast regime certainly suits the player in question. She is always "fit," and has great stamina, coming through exhausting matches without showing the slightest sign of distress. I need not add that sleep is one of the chief factors for making you feel buoyant and well; if you have not had your right measure of sleep the night before an important contest, you are greatly handicapped. Remember, too, how necessary it is to sleep in a well-ventilated room with the windows open.

As to Courts, there are so many surfaces now used for the game, such as grass, wood, asphalt, cement, gravel, and sand, that it is possible to play the game all the year round, under cover or out in the open. I think, however, most players will agree with me that a good grass court is the ideal surface for lawn tennis. The sensation of playing a genuinely hard match with evenly balanced players on a good grass court, under ideal weather conditions, has only to be experienced to be appreciated. It is then you realize what great enjoyment this game gives to any one who loves it. Alas! the really good grass court and ideal weather are very hard to get in England. I suppose there was scarcely a day in 1909 that could be described as perfect for lawn tennis; and our good grass courts are few and far between.

The climate we cannot control, but I often wonder why there should be such a dearth of true grass courts at open meetings. Of course maintenance involves a certain amount of expense, but surely many clubs are quite well enough off to command at least one or two really good courts. Can it be ignorance, or is it a want of necessary energy and constant attention? Lawn tennis seems to suffer in this respect more than most games. There are hundreds of splendid golf greens and cricket pitches all over the country, but for some inexplicable reason a good grass lawn tennis court is, as Mr. G.W. Hillyard has remarked, "almost as rare a sight as a dead donkey." Happily we get this rare spectacle at Wimbledon under Mr. Hillyard's able care and management.

What a difference a general improvement in surface would mean! I am convinced that if courts were better the standard of play would advance more rapidly. It is marvellous what beneficial effect a good court has on play. I have seen an average player, who had always played on bad courts, with cramped surroundings and poor background, put up a really good game the very first time he played on a first-class court—I refer to a well-known private court at Thorpe Satchville, perhaps the best in the country. That player surprised himself and every one else present. He performed about half-thirty better than his usual game. The moral is that if other players had the opportunity of playing regularly on a true and fast court they must essentially improve. On bad courts you can never be sure what the ball will do; it is a toss-up whether you get a false bound or not. A player once told me that he thought it a good thing to have these bad courts at your house or club to practise upon. When you went to tournaments, he argued, you would not mind what you found there, as the conditions could not be worse, and might be better, and you would always be in the happy frame of mind of not expecting too much and never being disappointed. Your game would not be put off by depressing conditions—you were so used to them! But that is poor logic. After all, we play the game for pleasure, and there can be no enjoyment in playing on wretched courts. Many unfortunate players, if they wish to play the game at all, are forced to play on what Mr. Mahony used to call "cabbage patches"—("Sorry, partner, it hopped on a cabbage," was his favourite expression after missing a ball in a double); but I cannot understand any one voluntarily choosing such a surface.