of putting which might never occur again. Sheer nonsense-for Travis always putts marvellously. He won because his ability to play each shot as he intended to play it was greater than that of his opponents in a word, his mental control over nerves and muscles was more complete. How often do you hear a player apologize for a bad shot by saying, "I had to avoid the bunker on the right, or the long grass on the left." Travis says, "There is a space forty or fifty yards wide. I know if I stand up

on the tee and hit the ball in the middle of the club it is bound to fall somewhere within that width. Consequently I obliterate the bunker and the long grass from my mind and confine my attention to hitting the ball in the middle of the club." It sounds so simple; yet how few people can acquire that habit of mind.

Herein, however, lies the peculiar fitness of the game of golf to the American disposition. Concentration of purpose is surely a characteristic of the race. The English

man who is popularly supposed to give up more time to games than any one else will seldom make any sacrifice for a game. If he does not excel quickly at one game he will drop it and try something else. Also he has perhaps a greater variety to choose from. If the American takes up anything at all he generally makes up his mind to succeed at all events to the top of his сарасity. Twelve years ago there was not an American golfer who had learned the game in this country who could compete with a good Scotch or English player. To-day Walter Travis and Jerome Travers could, I believe, beat any pair of amateurs in Great Britain; nor has there ever been a pair of amateurs in Great Britain that could beat them at any time except Ball and Hilton at their best. And both Travers and Travis owe their excellence largely to their concentration of purpose and complete control of nerves. I am not at all sure, moreover, that a picked team of college boys or of young men under twenty-five would not beat any team of their own age that could be picked in Great Britain. There are innumerable golfers of the undergraduate age in Great Britain, but they are apt to employ their energies on a number of different games. The American specializes and attains a greater accuracy. It is certainly a great proof of the adaptability of the American character that in less than twenty years the youth of the country has taken up golf, learned the game, produced one world-wide champion and a new generation of golfers who could hold their own in Scotland where the game has been played for centuries. And nothing could prevent golf from becoming by far the most popular game among the grown men of the country if it were not for one drawback. Whereas in Scotland and England seaside golf courses existed before the early Britons wore clothes and require little or no preparation, an American course can only be made and kept up at considerable expense. There is no such thing as a natural golf course in America; and if there were very few people would benefit, since the vast majority of the population live so far from the sea. Thirty years ago the number of golf courses abroad which were not on the sandy dunes by the sea was a negligible quantity. I believe that the first really good inland courses were made

in America. England learned from America that while you could never make a St. Andrews or a Prestwick away from the sea, you could produce something which was almost as good a test of golf. But it takes money to do it, and consequently golf can never be as inexpensive a game here as it is in Great Britain.

And there is another hindrance to the popularity of the game which is really the subject-matter of this article. We started well enough twelve or fifteen years ago by showing how to make a good golf course inland. Yet there has been practically no improvement in that direction since then, although in every other way the game has made great strides. Ninety per cent. of the courses in this country are not to be compared with the real golf links abroad. And the worst of it is that an entirely erroneous standard has grown up so that it is the most difficult thing in the world to introduce reforms. Everything now is sacrificed to the older players who want the path made easy for them, and for some strange reason the younger players are dumb. There are a few golfers in the country who have steadily set themselves to keep up the real standard, like Mr. Herbert Leeds, who, I believe, was responsible not only for Myopia but for the nine-hole course at Bar Harbor, and the winter course at Aiken. There is an excellent inland course also at Manchester, Vermont, and there is Garden City, which lately has been much improved. When one has mentioned these one has included practically all the links in the country which approach in interest and quality the best courses abroad, and even these fall a long way short of perfection. Is it not strange that with all the vast sums of money expended on golf links in America, so few courses should be nearly good?

The defects in most courses I should attribute to two reasons. First of all, since money is an essential, the affairs of the different clubs are generally in the hands of the older men who supply the funds. The older men not only want things made easy for them, but they lack the imagination of youth. The Wheaton and Onwentsia courses in Chicago were the two best in the country when they were laid out, because they represented the last word in making artificial courses at that time.

course ought to be, and the easiest way is to illustrate by example. Two years ago, seventy men in this country subscribed one thousand dollars apiece in order to buy land and lay out a course that might not only equal the best courses abroad but combine as far as possible the best features of all. They intrusted Mr. C. B. Macdonald with the task of collecting information and adapting the materials to the actual conditions. In two years the course has been made and will be ready for play this summer. The experiment cannot be entirely successful for a year or two, since it takes time to produce the best quality of turf. But I imagine that the difference in the quality of the golf will become at once apparent.

To begin with, you have the natural advantages of the sea and the rolling sandy hills which have been associated with the game from time immemorial. Surroundings go for a good deal. Who would prefer, let us say, Sunningdale in England to North Berwick in Scotland, even if technically speaking Sunningdale were the better golf course of the two? And the new National course on the Shinnecock Hills will certainly challenge comparison with the links by the Firth of Forth in point of natural beauty. Your true golfer and your true sportsman can never be quite satisfied when he is playing 'round suburban lots, even though the putting greens are true and the club house only thirty-five minutes from town. At the present moment I would

rather play on the old course at Shinnecock, which has nearly all the faults that ingenuity could invent, than any other course in the country simply for the sake of the wide sweep of ocean and down, and the sunset over Peconic Bay and the gleam of water on a thousand inlets. There is the true links. You may get a fairly good imitation of it further inland, but when you have once seen the real painting you will never be content with a chromo-lithograph. So much for the surroundings. When we come to particulars it will be observed that most American courses consist of a long strip of turf about sixty yards wide laid out like a race course, with long grass or trees, or bushes, on either side. Hazards are placed at stated intervals, generally about 120 yards and 260 yards from the tee, in the form of ditches and cops stretching at right angles across the course. The only difference between one hole and another is the difference of length. Any shot off the tee suffices as long as it carries 120 yards and keeps within a width of sixty yards, unless it is an exceptionally long and straight shot, when it goes into a bunker intended to catch a second. The putting greens are large and flat expanses with no hazards near them so that the approach shot becomes as simple as possible. The one thing the player has to worry about is the chance of a bad slice or pull. If he goes a yard off the course to left or right he will probably lose his ball and his temper. There is no variety or finesse about the game under such conditions. The advantage of skill is reduced to a minimum and the wonder is that the game has remained so popular as it is. A spirit of trade unionism seems to have invaded the game. Just as it is made impossible nowadays for a good bricklayer to lay bricks as fast as he wants to, it is considered wrong that the golfer who can hit the ball far and straight should have any advantage over the short and inaccurate driver. As for the finer points of the game-putting spin on the ball to stop it, etc.—the idea of developing those points is firmly discouraged. I have already mentioned a few courses which do afford opportunities to the fine player and variety to all classes. It must be confessed, however, that this is not the case with the majority.

The first thing, then, to be aimed at in VOL. XLV.-64

laying out a course is to attain variety. Every hole should as far as possible be different from all the rest, and each should contain in itself a variety of possibilities. Roughly speaking, there may be only three or four underlying principles, but these three or four suggest a variety of combinations. We might begin, for simplicity's sake, with two categories: Holes that can always be reached in one shot, and holes that generally require two shots or more.

It should be easy enough to make a short hole; yet how few really good short holes are there in existence. The first requisite

and this is very important-is that not only the flag should be visible from the tee, but, if possible, every bit of ground between the tee and the flag. One ought to play always for a two at a short hole, and one can only do that with any degree of accuracy when the flag and the ground round about it are visible. The much boasted Maiden at Sandwich is really a very indifferent hole because a three is very easy and a two is largely a matter of luck, since in playing from the tee the entire putting green is invisible. In the second place, it is well to vary the short holes in length so as to get every kind of shot. On the National links the shortest hole is about 140 yards. The shot is played from high ground across a wide bunker on to a small plateau which is entirely surrounded by bunkers. Where the hole is so short it should be made as difficult as possible; consequently the little plateau is undulating and slopes off on every side toward the bunkers. The nicest accuracy is necessary in order to keep the ball on the green. With the wind behind the shot must be played with a good deal of back spin. The bunker in front of the green is deep and sheer, so that it is quite impossible for a topped ball to run through. The bunkers round about will not be so severe because even a well played shot may just run over the green and a recovery should be possible, though difficult. Lastly, the fact that the tee is a good deal higher than the little plateau green makes the distance deceptive, and calls for the most careful judgment.

The next hole in point of distance is the 4th; about 160 yards in length. Here the green is modelled and bunkered exactly as the 11th hole at St. Andrews is, and more or less like the last hole at Garden City.