One of the most difficult shots you can be called upon to play is when the ball is in a "cuppy" lie, viz., in a small hole or hollow. The club then has to be swung into it without taking any of the surrounding edges, which seems so impossible to accomplish, and yet to get the ball away any distance, but the more quietly and without pressing you succeed in doing this, the more chance you will have of a good result. A ball lying above you, say on the side of a hill, is awkward, as the club shaft when used in such a position seems so lengthy and unwieldy, but taking the stroke quietly and again not pressing for an extra long shot is the best way out of the difficulty. If on the other hand the ball lies on a slope below you, shorten your grip of the club, for the body will naturally fall a little forward in the downward swing, owing to the stance being on the slant. Sometimes the ball may be found lying with a disused and grass-grown mole-hill, or some such lump immediately in front. In such a case it would be equally impossible to sweep away the ball with a full swing, or with a three-quarter one. The club must therefore be raised just as far backwards as in a half shot, when it should be smartly brought down, thus hitting the ball and jerking into the turf, causing it—the ball—to rise over the obstacle. This will cut a large divot out of the ground, which must be replaced and stamped down, ever remembering the text, "It is the duty of every golfer to replace, or to cause to be replaced any turf cut in the act of making a stroke." Of course care must be used not to break the shaft of the club, owing to the force with which the head will cut down into the turf.
To keep yourself in good form it is not necessary after the game has been thoroughly mastered to practise every day. Three or four times a week will keep both the eye and the hand well up to their work, without getting either tired or stale. Whenever the chance presents itself of playing a round with a scratch player, or someone who is really more skilled than yourself, do so. Such experience will not only serve as a lesson, but will stimulate the spirit of ambition in no small degree. Besides, it will be most excellent training and a decided gain in the way of steadiness, and will also teach you not to get flustered when confronted by difficulties. Merely to watch your opponent's self-possession, as she extricates the ball from the heaviest sand, without the least sign of force or irritability, will be a lesson worthy of taking to heart. To have made good progress in the game, and to be able to hold one's own with some of the longer handicap members, perhaps even to be able to give them a point or two besides a beating, has the effect of making most people rather proud and pleased with themselves. Then it is that a sound beating from some good player will do your game pounds of good and show you how much you still have to learn. If one were to play golf for ever, yet would the feeling remain that there are many things to be mastered.
One of the most trying times for the nerves, and in fact for your play all round is when at some big open meeting, or perhaps even in the championship, you find yourself drawn to play with or against a celebrity. Some of the on-lookers may, and probably will, elect to follow you round just to see your famous partner perform, as well as to criticise both players. Naturally, this will cause you some embarrassment, but beside your own feeling on the matter, you have to consider those of your partner, and the risk that if you play badly you may very likely put her off too. For in golf the laws of imitation are very subtle, and nothing is more common than to play down to another person's standard. However trying it may be, therefore, to have every shot watched, whether it is a long raking drive, a foozled iron, or some twelve inch putt that lips the hole instead of going down, do your best to be steady, even if brilliancy be out of the question, for consistency can never be very hardly criticised, even when seriously put in the shade by a superior display of knowledge. Attending open meetings, and taking part in club matches, will do more for your nerves and be the means of your gaining greater experience than a hundred rounds on the quiet home course, with just those players around you to whose criticisms the ear has become so used, that they cease to make the slightest impression. At such big gatherings you can see for yourself the endless varieties of style, grip, stance, and a dozen other details which will go more towards teaching you how you should or should not do this, or do that, than many lessons and many chapters on the subject.
To play a tight match in a championship, is generally a doubtful pleasure. The severe strain of knowing that every stroke should be soundly good, or at all events useful, the amount of care that must be taken over the shortest putt, the dogged determination that you will beat your opponent, or if you do not quite succeed in this, that you will only be beaten by the most narrow margin, and last but not least, the total obliviousness to the crowd that may be following the match; all this self-possession cannot be learned in a day or even in a few months. To attain to such a level is a matter of test and training. Before any of these big events, it is as well to go and reside for a time in or near the spot where the meeting is to be held, as you will thus gain a thorough knowledge of the course, lies, bunkers and greens, not forgetting that most useful appendage, the caddie. To secure a sharp boy, who knows every nook and cranny of the links, will often mean half a stroke a hole to the credit of your match or score.
The most suitable and workmanlike clothes for the game are a simple coat and skirt of Harris tweed or other strong material, thick boots with a few nails in the soles to prevent slipping, and a straw sailor hat by way of head covering. Fly-away and feather-bedecked hats, together with garden-party dresses, look, and are, terribly out of place on a course, which in this country, owing to the variable moods of the clerk of the weather, may not always be without mud! Many players wear red coats with their club facings and buttons, and these always look smart. Among them, and one which is quite the neatest of all club uniforms, is that of the Wimbledon Ladies' Club—a coat, with black collar and cuffs, outlined with a piping of white, the buttons being of black, with the club initials in white on them. All clubs that have the privilege of calling themselves Royal are entitled to facings of Royal blue. The Littlestone ladies wear rather a smart coat with white facings, round which are the narrowest of narrow pipings in tri-coloured silk cord, of the club colours, white, green and salmon pink. Green facings are very popular, and are used by the St. Anne's Ladies, the Mid-Surrey and many others. Perhaps the only club with a membership of several hundred, which has no distinctive coat is Princes, at Mitcham, but the charming mixture of chocolate and light blue, in the form of hat ribbons and ties worn by the members, makes rather a welcome change.
Going away to other links to play matches for one's club is by no means the least of the minor pleasures of being a golfer, for it carries one to many "lands unknown." The fascinations, too, of a new course are great and wonderful, especially during the first round when you are quite ignorant of the pitfalls that await the unwary. There is something so exhilarating in driving over carries of unknown breadth, and in taking one's iron to reach a blind, or hidden green, with several sandy obstacles between you and it.
MISS PASCOE.
(Winner of the Championship, 1896.)