Chapter XL: Part II (15)

The quiet, determined horseman who negotiated that last awkward drop so cleverly (typical of the best man of any country, whether in Leicestershire or the most remote provinces), is taking a line of his own, but without any sign of shirking or hesitation. At one point a light thorn-fence half screens the brook, and he goes for it at that point, well knowing that the roots of bushes will give him firm ground to take off from; and as to the sort of place on which he may land, he is content to take his chance. Catching firm hold of his horse’s head, but so lightly that there is no perceptible increase of pressure on bit or bridle, he sends an electric thrill of sympathy, along the reins. A strong squeeze of the knees, just one touch of the spur, and they go at it best speed. Like a bullet the good steed flies through the screen of slender twigs, hangs a brief beat of time above the glittering water, and with just a scramble where the hollow bank gives way, is on _terra firma_ once more. It was a yawner indeed--broad as a Lincolnshire dyke, deep enough to engulf horse and rider, and gloomy as the Styx. One fair pursuer goes at it where the huntsman leads, and, thanks to her pilot’s quick eye for selecting a sound place, gets over cleverly. The other races hard at a bend where ceaseless eddies have worn a wider channel. The little teeth are clenched tightly, and every nerve in her slender frame is tingling with excitement. The gallant thoroughbred shares this feeling, and, big as the effort is, he will not be balked. With nostrils dilated and quivering, eyes straining forward, and every muscle at tension, he bounds boldly forward, and rather by impetus of speed than any palpable exertion of his own, flies across the broad chasm. It is a hair’s breadth too much at this point even for his superb leaping powers to compass; the hind feet drop in, but fortunately find hold on a lower submerged shelf. The rider’s lithe, light figure is instinctively thrown forward, the plucky steed has his head, and by a second effort such as the underbred cocktail seldom makes, he carries his rider safely ashore, shakes his dripping quarters, and a minute later is speeding on beside the pack again.

On either hand the splash and gurgle of waters tell that somebody has gone down. In the one case it is the horse in, the man on the right side, with reins in hand and rueful contemplation on his face; in the other it is a man in mid-stream, spluttering and gesticulating for the help of a friendly hunting crop, while his recreant steed, with sweating flanks and straining eyes, looks over the brink at him.

A minute later hoofs are clattering hard against the unyielding oak of stiff post and rails, whereat one horse, that has been done to a turn in his efforts to catch the first flight, rises impotently out of sticky ground. His knees hit the top bar, which scarcely bends before the weight, and turning heels over head, he falls heavily on his rider. Fortunately the ground is soft and there are no ribs broken, but all the fiery spirit has been pumped out of both horse and rider by this disaster. Now we cross one of the modern curses to fox-hunting in the midlands--a newly cut railway--go slowly over the next field, jump the bank and binders up-hill into a roadway, and then come to our first real check at the end of twenty fast minutes.

Up to this point there has been more riding than hunting; but what Meltonian has eyes for hounds, or cares about them, while they lead the field at highest speed if only they furnish musical accompaniment enough for him to ride by? Those twenty minutes, full of dash and keen rivalry, are to him worth all the slow hunting runs ever chronicled, and the delight of watching hounds puzzle out a cold scent or drive a fox through dense woodlands where no man can ride to them, and when only by their sonorous music one can know which way the tide of chase is rolling, is to him a sensation unknown. At this first check, which means that either the fox will beat his pursuers or that they will have to hunt him patiently to death, the man who comes out simply to ride would fain go home again, were it not that a fresh fox may be found presently, and another fast scurry give him the opportunities of steeplechasing distinction for which his soul craves.

There is a popular superstition that the typical Leicestershire huntsman is very much of the same mind on these points--that, having got off the line of one fox, he will neither give hounds time to make their own cast nor complete the work with painstaking science himself, but will simply fling forward in a half-circle, like an over-eager hound. That, if he fails to hit off a scent in this dashing fashion, he will gallop straight to the nearest brake and find a fresh fox, thereby getting credit for a wonderfully clever cast from those who have been too far behind to see what happened, or too inexperienced to know. These things, or something like them, happen, it is true, when hounds come to their first check before there has been time to shake off the crowd. A huntsman who could not practice little deceptions of this kind at times without making either his pack or himself hopelessly wild, would be as useless in the shires as a hound that had not the courage to thread its way among hundreds of heels, and slip through the torrent of mad pursuers when the “gone away” has been sounded. I have seen such methods resorted to with brilliant success by Will Goodall of the Pytchley, by Neill of the Cottesmore, and Tom Firr of the Quorn, when the throng pressed so persistently that hounds had no chance to hunt. But the perfection of breeding and training is attested by the fact that, though frequently lifted thus, all three packs will stoop readily to a scent when they have room, make their own casts with dash, not waiting with heads up for their huntsman to help them whenever they come to a difficulty, and hunt a cold line as cleverly as any “provincial” pack.

There is not much time to “leave ’em alone,” or practice slow tactics now, for the thunder of road-riders rolls down the wind, and in a few minutes more the presence of hundreds may spoil all that would have been possible with a field of only fifty followers. Still the huntsman will not hurry. The hounds probably know more than he does, and he knows enough to be sure that a mistake made at the first check can rarely be retrieved. There is a little feathering and waving of sterns on the line our fox has come; then a few couples try forward without success, and then, as if actuated by one impulse, they all swing round in a wide self-cast. In this there is no flashy wildness, but perfect steadiness and close work, yet nothing to suggest the style of harriers.

See one hound as he circles round, stops suddenly, stoops to the furrow, feathers along it for a few yards, and then throws his tongue lightly. “Hoic to Festive! hoic together! Hurrah for the blood of Belvoir Fallible!” shouts the huntsman, all animation in a second at the sound. Every hound flies to where Festive spoke, but they do not stop to “quest” the scent and make sure of it for themselves, as harriers would. Each, jealous of honors and striving for the lead, flies eagerly forward to feel for the line a few yards in advance of his rivals. So, one after the other, they take up the cry until all burst out in a clamorous chorus, and speed over the open once more.

Luckily, we are set going just in time, and straight for a line of frowning bullfinches, where network of thorns to be bored through, and ox-rails and ditches to be got over somehow, would stall off the faint-hearted. A minute later the road-riding division in all their might would have been upon us, but now they are left behind again. There is a gorse covert ahead, where fresh foxes are sure to be on foot, and if only we change to any of these, our hunted one may save his brush after all. But Will, the whipper-in, slips round as fast as he can to the fox side as hounds dash into the cover.

A red-roan steers away when he gets there, but it is not the right animal, and Will stops the leading hounds when they come to him. Then all is silence. But what is that old bitch doing in the dry ditch beside the boundary fence? Our huntsman has one eye on her, the other on the uplands a field or two off. Yes, that’s it. Something brown is stealing along a furrow. The fox has never gone into this gorse, but skirted it, his cunning telling him that he might thus delay pursuers and throw them off on a false scent. Two or three light touches of the horn bring hounds to him. In a cluster they follow him as he crashes through a bullfinch and tops the next gate. He takes them along as if they were running in view, but at one wave of his hand when he comes where the fox was last viewed, they spread out like a fan, own to the scent with notes of joy, and take us on again mile after mile, their pace quickening as the power of horses to rise at a leap begins to flag.

A welcome breathing space comes when hounds enter a chain of woods in which our fox is certain to pause for a while. But here the huntsman gives his quarry little time to rest. His voice rings out in answer to every whimper from a hound he can trust, and so they keep driving straight through for the far end. Evidently our fox is a stout-hearted traveler, who does not mean to dwell and be caught like a rat in a trap. He will run until he can run no longer, and then die like a gentleman. Shall we be there to see, or is the end yet afar off?

The bold first flightman, whose example disproves the fallacy that a hard rider neither cares nor knows anything about hound work, shall be our guide still. Watch him as he moves quietly through the rides of this wood--his eye quick to take in all that each hound is doing, his ear sensitive to every sound, while he may seem to be noting nothing. He knows instinctively, though he may never have seen the pack before, when a hound is lying with the reckless clamor of youth, or with the half-closed mouth and faint whimper of long-continued weakness for riot, or when another is telling the truth with hot outspoken tongue. Directly that last welcome sound reaches him, followed by Will’s view-halloa, he is out of the wood like an arrow from the bow, and with the pack as it comes together in the open.

Two fields have been crossed, and we begin to realize that the fox’s point must be a well-known stronghold of the neighboring hunt where tree-tops can be seen in the hazy distance; but his gallant effort to reach it is in vain. We see by the way hounds begin to twist and turn that the hunted one’s sinewy limbs are beginning to fail him, though his courage holds out to the last. There is no need to nurse your horse any longer, for the chase is near its end, and you may push over wet meadow or deep plough without fear. You cannot override hounds now or turn them from the line, for see, their hackles are up; that low, fierce growl means that they have caught a view of the sinking fox, and the shrill scream that makes every fibre tingle with excitement is a death-knell.

A minute later the clear “Whaw! whoop!” rings out over the tattered remnants for which hounds are struggling and wrangling. The superb young horsewoman, whose daring deeds have put many a bold Meltonian to shame, is handed a trophy which Diana might proudly hang at her saddle-bow, for it is the brush of as good a fox as ever led his pursuers a fast forty minutes over Leicestershire pastures.

It may justly be objected that a run like this is not typical of the terrific rush as of a whirlwind, the brilliant burst for fifteen minutes with hounds racing every yard of the way from find to finish, and the reckless rivalry that goes to make up all that is most characteristic of a run in the shires. But my answer is, that these fast scurries are not fox-hunting, and I have chosen rather to describe the incidents of a run that may be seen once in a season, but not oftener, in the much vaunted shires; or with the “blue and buff” followers of the Badminton or the tawny coats of Atherstone; with the Warwickshire, the Fitzwilliam, the Cheshire, the Vale of White Horse, or any of the leading provincial hunts.

Of the minutæ of wilder sport in countries where hounds must do all the work and mere riding is at a discount, I shall have to write in another article. The happy hunting-grounds of old England are being rapidly hemmed in by railways and curtailed by the abnormal growth of manufacturing centres, but fox-hunting flourishes still, and there are many counties wherein the cheery notes of horn and hound may be heard from October to May.

SPANIEL TRAINING.

BY D. BOULTON HERRALD.

~Many~ a dog is ruined for the field by injudicious training. With all the good intentions in the world he trains his puppy to retrieve, using a stick or a stone, and encourages him to chase the sparrows in the street, because, forsooth, he thinks that checking him would have the effect of blunting his hunting enthusiasm when on game. The result is a dog that reduces the birds to a pulp while retrieving them, and who rushes about the covert at railroad speed, hundreds of yards ahead of the gun, flushing the birds far out of range, and chasing everything he sees, until, exhausted, he is forced to return to his master and rest.

The following lines are penned especially for the benefit of the sportsman (and his name is legion) who pursues this mode of training (?) in the hope that his next spaniel, taught under the rules laid down in this article, will be at least an improvement on the one he at present owns.

Before commencing work, remember that you must always be firm but kind, and that above all things you must not lose your temper with your pupil. Never give in to the dog; always make him do what he is told. Be sure that he knows what he is being punished for when it becomes necessary to do so, and don’t delay the punishment long enough for him to forget for what he is being corrected. Do not stint your praise when he does well.

The first lesson to be taught is retrieving. The nearer the puppy is to two months old the better, in my opinion, for our purpose. Some writers recommend waiting until he has lost his milk teeth and the new ones are well grown in, as they say that a dog taught to retrieve before getting rid of these first teeth is apt to be hard-mouthed in retrieving birds, etc.; but the experience of the writer has been that if properly taught, however young, the puppy will not develop that evil habit. If a youngster of any “go,” he can be taught more easily at that age, though a dull one cannot be taken in hand so early.

Roll an old and soft woolen sock into a ball, then sit down and call your pupil to you. Push the ball in his face to attract his attention to it, making him try to take hold. Then, throwing it six inches away, say, “Go fetch it, Jack” (as we will call him), motioning him towards it with the right hand at the same time. If he refuses to pick up the ball, go to him, and, placing it in his mouth, force him to go with you to the place you threw from, making him hold it until you have said, “dead bird!” or “dead!” Should he refuse to give up the ball, force his jaws open with the thumb and second finger of the left hand inserted at the base of the jaws, removing it with the right, saving the while, “Dead! dead!” Never _pull_ anything away, as he will pull too, and a nice state your partridge or duck would be in were such a proceeding permitted. He _must_ be taught to drop whatever he is carrying when commanded to do so by voice or sign. For a sign, hold up the right hand, with the forefinger erect and the rest folded. Never let him worry nor mouth anything.

Should he pick up the ball, and run away, refusing to bring it to you, take him behind the shoulders and drag him to the place where you were sitting when it was thrown. Make him hold the ball until you get there, and then proceed as hereinbefore directed. He will soon learn this lesson. Throw the ball farther and farther as he progresses, and continue until he is perfected in it.

When he has learned to retrieve the thrown ball he can be advanced a stage. Show him the bail, not letting him take it, and, saying “Dead!” place it on the ground and walk away, telling him to follow. After going a few steps, turn, and, waving the hand in the direction in which he is to go, say, “Go, seek dead!” Should he fail to understand your meaning, go back, show him the ball, and, after again taking him away some little distance, order him to get it and then deliver to you.

When three or four months old, if he is perfect in his other lessons, take, say, a game bird’s wing, or in default of that, a fowl’s, show it him, and, putting him out of the room (I am supposing that you teach him in the house), shut the door. Then hide it where it can easily be found, and let him in, saying, “Go, seek dead!” motioning the direction in which he is to quest. Continue this for some time until he does it perfectly, hiding the wing in out-of-the-way places about the house as he progresses.

Never let his search be a fruitless one. If he cannot find for himself, show him the hiding-place, and make him fetch the wing to the place from which you sent him.

To teach the puppy to retrieve from water after he has learnt to do so on land, take him, when the water is warm, to a shelving beach. First throw his ball to the water’s edge (for this work fold some cork shavings in it), then into the water far enough to force him to wet his feet, and so on, farther and farther, until at last he is obliged to swim. This should be gone about gradually, and with extreme care, so as to give him confidence in his powers. Above all things do not throw him into water over his depth, as it will only tend to make him dislike it, and may ruin him for water retrieving altogether. It is well to make your pupil retrieve sometimes _in the dark_, as if only worked by daylight he is apt to depend too much on eyesight, which practice must not, of course, be tolerated for a moment.

The next lesson to be taught is “coming to heel.” When you are out walking, and he is running ahead, call sharply, “Heel, Jack--heel!” forcing him behind you at the same time. Should he try to break away, tap him smartly with your whip or walking-stick, saying, “Heel! heel!” Continue this until he will come in at once when called, and thrash him if he breaks away without the order to “hie on” or “go on.” To teach this, wave the hand forward while verbally giving the order, and run a few steps onward. This lesson will be easily inculcated, and it will be to him the most welcome order he has to obey.

Few spaniels in this country are trained to drop to shot or command; but presuming my reader to be desirous of giving his pupil a finished education, I will describe an easy mode of teaching it. Order him sharply to “drop!” when standing beside you, at the same time forcing him to the ground by placing the knee on his shoulders, and keep him there for a few moments, saying “Drop! drop!” Then removing your hand or foot from off him, say “Up!” making him rise. When ordering him to drop, hold your right (or left) arm erect above the shoulder, so that in time he will associate the uplifted arm with the verbal command. In due course he will drop at the signal alone. Do not allow him to get up until ordered to do so, whether you walk away and leave him or not.

Next take some firearm, a muzzle-loading horse-pistol for choice, and, commanding him to drop by voice and sign, fire it. In time he will associate the report with the other orders to drop, and so “drop to shot.”

Never weary your pupil; stop the lesson before he tires of it. Always have him alone with you when at work, as his attention must not be distracted from the matter in hand. _Never deceive him._ It is well to reward him now and again for good behavior with some dainty of which he is fond. Use the whip as little as possible; but when you do whip, _whip soundly_.

And now for the field. On arriving at the covert in which you purpose beginning operations, order him in; instinct then teaches him to quest for a scent. At first allow him to range at will to put a keen edge on his appetite for the work, and do not check him when so hunting. If he goes too far away, hide carefully and make him find you without assistance from you. He will think he is lost, and be wary of going too far in future.

When he begins to enjoy his work thoroughly you can begin to curb his ranging propensities. If he runs too far, call “Close, Jack--close!” and should he persist in doing so, thrash him, repeating the while, “Close! close!” He should not be allowed to range farther than twenty or twenty-five yards from the gun.

Should he give chase to a flushed bird, shout “Ware chase, Jack!” and if he persists, call him in and thrash him, repeating the order whilst doing so. If he springs a hare and attempts to chase her, shout “Ware fur, Jack!” and calling him to where you stand, scold and thrash him. He must be broken of noticing “fur” at all hazards.

When you shoot the first bird over him order him to “go seek dead!” motioning the direction in which it fell. If he cannot find it, go and find it for him, then pointing to it, say “Dead!” and calling him to follow, go back to where you stood at firing, and order him to get it. If he refuses to pick the bird up, put it in his mouth and force him to carry it to where you stood. Order him to put it down, and praise and make much of him, and ten to one next time he will retrieve. Use every endeavor to kill the first bird you fire at to his flush.

After this, “practice makes perfect,” and the reader will in time own a dog of whose accomplishments afield he may be proud.

LAWN TENNIS IN THE SOUTH.

BY H. W. SLOCUM, JR.

The remarkable interest displayed in lawn tennis throughout the North, and the increasing popularity of the game, as shown each year by the multitude of new players and new clubs, have been fully equaled in the South during the past two seasons. The Southern interest is an awakening one. The athletes of that section have become aware, only during the last few years, that lawn tennis is a game which fully develops every muscle, and at the same time possesses the elements of excitement and competition which render any athletic game more attractive.

The Southern Lawn Tennis Association, which was organized in the fall of 1887, made it a part of its constitution that “no club which is situated north of Wilmington, Delaware, should be admitted to membership in the Association.” So we may well take a line drawn east and west through Wilmington as the northern boundary of the Southern tennis field; and what a vast field it is! Winter visitors to the South find the game in full swing in every town from Wilmington, Delaware, to St. Augustine, Florida. Tournaments are held in the largest cities of the extreme South in the middle of winter, and the turf is as green and the temperature even more delightful for lawn tennis than the Northern players enjoy at Newport where the tournament for the National championship is held in midsummer.

The enthusiasm of the extreme South has reached its highest point in St. Augustine, Florida, where a valuable challenge cup has been offered, to be played for in February or March of each year. The cup was last year contested for by only a few Northerners, who happened to be sojourning in Florida, and was won by Mr. H. G. Trevor, of New York City. It has lately been reported, however, that a special Pullman car, finely equipped, will convey to the scene of conflict Northern contestants in the next tournament, to be held in the month of March, 1889. The St. Augustine Lawn Tennis Club has recently become a member of the United States National Lawn Tennis Association, and the coming tournament will be held under its auspices.

To reach the centre of Southern interest and enthusiasm, however, we must travel far north of St. Augustine and visit three large cities, viz., Washington, the national capital, Baltimore and Wilmington. In Washington, particularly, the game has taken a long stride forward; and what place could be better adapted for such a sport? Its climate is such that the “tennis fiend” may enjoy his favorite game all the year round. Turf courts can be used as late as December and as early as April, and during the intervening months practice on asphalt is sufficient to keep the eye and the hand well “in.” Some years ago a few members of the Metropolitan Club built an asphalt court on I Street, and since that time there have been few winters when the court has not been in constant use. On many occasions the snow has been shoveled away to afford an afternoon’s amusement. The members of the different foreign legations have been accustomed to use this court, and during the past few years Lord Sackville-West, the unfortunate victim of American politics, was an almost constant attendant, usually as a spectator. On this court Mr. W. V. R. Berry and Mr. H. W. Slocum, Jr., played almost daily during the winter of ’84 and ’85, and Mr. Berry showed the value of his winter practice by capturing most of the rich prizes offered at Northern tournaments during the following summer, his rank among expert players being second only to the champion, Mr. R. D. Sears. Mr. Berry is almost a giant in stature, and few of his opponents in tournaments of that summer will be apt to forget his strong and accurate “smashing,” which was the feature and chief strength of his game.

Prior to the summer of 1887, tournaments for the championship of the South had been held on the grounds of the Delaware Field Club, at Wilmington, that club being a member of the United States National Lawn Tennis Association, and the tournaments being held under its auspices.

During the latter part of that summer, a few active spirits in Washington, the most prominent of whom was Dr. F. P. MacLean, conceived the idea of organizing an association, to be composed exclusively of clubs situated in the South, and of holding an annual tournament for the championship of the South, under the auspices of that association. Up to this period no tournaments had been held in the District of Columbia, except a few local contests, which had aroused little or no enthusiasm. There were probably not more than ten clubs in the city, and most of these were composed of but few members. To Dr. MacLean, more than any one else, was due the interest which was now newly excited. His enthusiasm was contagious, and active preparations were begun for the first tournament of an association which was not yet in existence. It was decided to hold the tournament in October, and circulars were sent to all of the prominent clubs of the South, inviting their members to contest in the coming tournament and share in the organization of the Association.

The responses were numerous and favorable, and on the 30th of October a meeting was held at Wormley’s Hotel, in Washington, at which delegates from the Baltimore Cricket Club of Baltimore, Md., the Delaware Field Club of Wilmington, and other smaller clubs scattered through Virginia and Maryland, met representatives of the prominent clubs of the District of Columbia. A permanent organization was effected, to be known as the Southern Lawn Tennis Association. Dr. F. P. MacLean was elected president, Mr. Leigh Bonsal, of the Baltimore Cricket Club, vice-president, and Mr. C. L. McCawley, of the Columbia Athletic Club, of Washington, secretary and treasurer. It was resolved that no club situated north of Wilmington, Del., should be admitted to membership in the Association.

The first tournament of the Association was successful, far beyond the anticipation of its promoters. It was held on October 30, and the following days, at the United States Marine Barracks. The championship of the South, in singles, was won by Leigh Bonsal, of the Baltimore Cricket Club, and the same player, with L. V. LeMoyne as partner, secured the honor of the doubles championship for his club. Washington was obliged to rest content with second honors, R. B. Goodfellow securing second place in the singles, and C. L. McCawley and R. S. Chilton the same in the doubles. The tournament was ably managed by a committee composed of Dr. MacLean, W. V. R. Berry, and C. L. McCawley. The prizes were donated to the Association by two prominent firms of New York City, A. G. Spalding & Bros. giving a challenge cup for the singles, to be won two years before it became the property of the holder, and Peck & Snyder presenting two silver cups to the winners of the doubles championship.

A. W. TOMES. TOM PETTITT. F. V. L. HOPPIN.
A. H. S. POST. F. MANSFIELD.

R. V. BEACH. YATES PENNINGTON. A. L. RIVES.
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The success of this initial tournament of the Association greatly encouraged its officers. Many of the contestants had been hitherto unheard of, and some of them coming from clubs located in small towns and villages of Virginia and Maryland, had shown skill of no mean order. Particularly surprising was the play of Mr. Abel John Layard, a young Englishman, and a member of the Winchester Club, of Winchester, Va., who, during the progress of the tournament, played a very interesting exhibition match with Mr. W. V. R. Berry, and showed remarkable skill. His play demonstrated anew that the skill of the average Englishman in lawn tennis is superior to that of the average player in this country. It is equally true, however, that we are approaching nearer and nearer to the English standard of excellence, and that in a few years our experts will be able to meet the best players of England on even terms.

This tournament virtually ended the lawn tennis season of 1887 in the South. Its effect was noticeable, however, in the largely increased number of clubs and players in Washington and its vicinity. The officers of the Southern Association were not idle during the winter. It was determined that the next championship tournament should be held in the spring, and that the grounds of the Baltimore Cricket Club should be used, in order that the city of Baltimore might share in the newly awakened interest in lawn tennis. Early in the month of May, however, the most active players of Washington arranged a tournament for the championship of the District of Columbia, believing that such a competition would develop players who might represent Washington with honor in the championship tournament at Baltimore.

It is unquestionably true that tournament practice, as a promoter of skill, is far better than any other. The player competing in a tournament is continually alert and strives hard to win every point, while one who has no such incentive is apt to become indolent and indifferent as to success, in which condition he is little apt to improve. Two days in a tournament is worth more than a week of ordinary practice to one who desires to improve in skill.

The committee in charge concluded to hold the tournament on the courts of Kendall Green, the ably conducted Government college for deaf mutes, at the head of which is the well-known Dr. Gallaudet. Two tennis organizations ordinarily use these courts; the one composed mainly of the college professors, and the other almost entirely of the students, some of whom have become quite proficient, and are always among the most interested spectators of any important match played at Kendall Green.

Having secured these grounds, the committee made the tournament additionally attractive by adding two events for ladies, both a singles and a doubles competition. There are no ladies in the District whose skill rivals that of the seemingly invincible Miss Robinson of Staten Island; she appears to be in a class by herself among the lady players of this country, and the only ambition of a majority of her opponents is to do as well as possible against her; but there are many of considerable skill, and the entries in these two events were sufficient to make them very interesting. The championship of the District of Columbia, in ladies’ singles, was won by Miss Bayard, a daughter of the Secretary of State, who had often demonstrated the strength of her game while a member of the Delaware Field Club of Wilmington. The contest in ladies’ doubles was won by Miss Bayard and Miss Safford. The championship in men’s singles was rather unexpectedly taken by Mr. John Pope, who had shown a considerable knowledge of the science of the game when representing Cornell University in the Intercollegiate tournament of the previous year. Mr. Pope’s most troublesome competitors were Mr. R. B. Goodfellow and Mr. C. L. McCawley, both of whom showed marked improvement in their play. Mr. McCawley, with Mr. Stevens as a partner, succeeded in winning the final round of the doubles from Messrs. Woodward and Davidson, and thus carried off that championship.

The success of this tournament and the good play shown did not, however, appear to materially affect the result of the next championship meeting of the Southern Association, held on the grounds of the Baltimore Cricket Club, on June 13 and following days. Washington was represented by some of its strongest players, who made a creditable showing. Messrs. Bonsal and LeMoyne, however, who, as a result of continued practice together, showed admirable team work, succeeded in winning the double event for the second time, and thus became the owners of the two cups presented by Peck & Snyder. A new champion made his appearance in the singles. Mr. A. H. S. Post gave by far the best exhibition of skill that had up to that time been seen in the South, and won the championship without much trouble. Mr. Post is only seventeen years of age, and as his play is not free from some of those faults and weaknesses common to young players, it was greatly to his credit that he succeeded in wresting victory from opponents of so much greater experience. His strokes are at times positively brilliant, and, though he often shows inexcusable carelessness and an apparent lack of steadiness, it was demonstrated that his game possesses real strength by the closeness of the match which he played with a strong opponent, Mr. Q. A. Shaw, in the open tournament held at Narragansett Pier last summer. Mr. Post is undoubtedly one of the most promising of the young players, and the development of his skill will be watched with interest.

Though the two tournaments held at Washington in the fall of ’87 and the spring of ’88 did not produce a player capable of winning the championship, yet their beneficial influence was shown in the improved play of the greatly increased number who followed lawn tennis as a pastime. There were about ten clubs in existence two years ago. There are now seventy, and the total number of players, as estimated by the “Capitol” newspaper, is two thousand. If a devotee of lawn tennis, who is anxious to improve but does not himself wish to compete in a tournament, will observe carefully the methods of different contestants who are struggling to win the prizes, he is certain to obtain some hints which will be useful to him and strengthen his game. Thus did these tournaments result in a substantial improvement in play throughout Washington. Among the most expert, and among those whose improvement has been most rapid, may be mentioned Messrs. Oscar Woodward, C. L. McCawley, John Pope, R. B. Goodfellow, John Davidson, W. P. Metcalf, and Dr. J. L. Wortman. No list could be complete without adding the name of Mr. W. V. R. Berry, who established his reputation as an expert some years ago, and who now appears to have joined the ranks of retired veterans.

Some few years ago a club, social in its nature, was organized by several gentlemen of Washington, prominent among whom was Mr. John F. Waggeman. A clubhouse and grounds were secured on the Bladensburg road, at a point located in the State of Maryland, but only a short distance from the boundary line of the District of Columbia, and not more than three or four miles from the centre of the city of Washington. The club is known as the Country Club of the State of Maryland, or the Highland Country Club, and it was designed to occupy the same relation to the city of Washington as the country clubs of Boston and New York hold to those cities. One of the earliest sporting features added to the club was a tennis court, and it at once occurred to the ever active mind of Dr. F. P. McLean, who was a member and interested in the club, that this would be a grand place in which to hold a large lawn tennis tournament. Tournaments for the championship of the South had been held under the auspices of the Southern Lawn Tennis Association; but it had been required, as a condition of playing, that a contestant should be a member of a club belonging to the Association, and, consequently, only a resident of the South was able to compete.

Dr. McLean knew that the Middle States Championship had been won by Mr. R. D. Sears, a resident of New England, and that the New England championship is at the present time held by a New Yorker. He felt that a tournament for the championship of the South, open to all comers, whether from the North or the South, would excite general interest, and would, moreover, give the residents of Washington an opportunity to witness the skillful playing of the Northern experts, who, it was hoped, would be induced to compete.

As a first step, the Country Club of the State of Maryland applied for membership in the United States National Lawn Tennis Association, with the idea of holding the proposed tournament under the auspices of that Association. The application was granted and authority given to the club to hold the tournament for the championship of the Southern States. This action, of course, placed the National Association in an attitude of apparent rivalry to the Southern Association. The latter had already held a tournament at Baltimore, as has been related, and, naturally, would not recognize any champion for the year except the winner of that tournament. The rivalry was more apparent than real, however, as Dr. McLean, the president of the Southern Association, was one of the originators, and, in fact, the most active in the management of the Country Club tournament. The apparent conflict and championship complication will not be experienced in the future, as it is probable that the United States National Lawn Tennis Association, whose membership is now limited to single clubs, will at the next annual meeting engraft into its constitution a clause under which other associations may be admitted to membership in the older organization, thus making it a central and undisputed authority in lawn tennis throughout the United States. Under such a clause the Southern Association can become a member, and only one annual tournament for the championship of the South will hereafter be held.

Dr. McLean spent a great part of last summer in visiting Northern tournaments and extending to Northern experts an invitation to compete in the Country Club tournament. To each one was offered the hospitality of the club during the tournament, and Dr. McLean finally succeeded in securing the entries of several players prominent in the North. In the meantime active preparations were being made at the Highland Country Club. A more interesting place for such an event could not be selected. The club is located, as before noted, on the old Bladensburg road, about three or four miles from Washington, and one or two from the village of Bladensburg. The club-house is in the centre of a large area of level ground, every foot of which is rich in historical association. On this very ground occurred, in the year 1814, one of the most important conflicts of the war of that period, the battle of Bladensburg, and on one side of the lot, close to the main road and distant only three or four hundred yards from the club-house, is a plot of ground particularly interesting as being the scene of the many duels which have made the name of Bladensburg famous.

The club had at this time but one lawn tennis court, and as soon as the tournament became an assured fact, it was at once decided to lay out four more. A description of the means by which these courts were finally constructed will not be uninteresting to one who proposes to build a court of clay or dirt, the materials used in this case. September had already arrived, and as it was proposed to hold the tournament during the latter part of that month, there was but little time for the construction of courts; but a plot of ground was easily leveled, a foundation of some solid material laid, and a mixture of dirt and clay filled in. At this point it seemed as if fate were against the club, for rain began to fall before the mixture had commenced to solidify, and rain continued to fall for one whole week, until the space occupied by that dirt and clay assumed the aspect of a quagmire. The rain ceased only a week before the time set for the tournament, and it was at first feared that it could not be held; but the ingenious idea of some brilliant mind saved the day. An old negro farmer, with a small army of mules at his command, lived near by, and both he and his mules were at once sent for. The old fellow brought his fourteen mules to the club, and they were turned loose upon the quagmire of clay and dirt. They tramped and stamped over it from daylight until eleven o’clock at night, and at the end of the third day of tramping, the Highland Country Club had as solid a piece of ground as could be desired. A few irregularities on the surface were easily smoothed away, and four courts were laid out, good enough to be used by the most exacting of lawn tennis experts.

The tournament was held on Tuesday, September 25 and the following days, and could hardly have been a greater success. Mr. F. Mansfield, of the Longwood Cricket Club, Boston, Messrs. F. V. L. Hoppin and H. A. Ditson, of the same club; Messrs. Ludington and Beach, of Yale University; Mr. Dean Miller, of New York; Mr. F. W. Kellogg, of New Haven; Mr. A. W. Tomes, of Brooklyn, and Mr. J. W. Smith were among the entries from the North, and all of these gentlemen enjoyed the hospitality of the club. The most expert of their Southern opponents were Mr. A. H. S. Post, the champion of the Southern Association, representing Baltimore, and Messrs. Davidson, Woodward, McCawley, Rives, Goodfellow, Metcalf and Wortman, all from the District of Columbia. There were in all thirty-six contestants, making it by far the largest tournament ever held in the South, as well as the greatest in interesting features. Dr. McLean had secured the presence of Thomas Pettitt, the professional champion of the world in court tennis, and also remarkably expert in lawn tennis. Pettitt played two exhibition games during the week, one with Mr. A. H. S. Post, in which he successfully conceded odds of fifteen, and the other with Mr. Mansfield, to whom he was unable to give the same odds, and was defeated. Pettitt’s game is a model of good form, and delighted the spectators.

The play in the tournament proper demonstrated that Southern form is not yet up to Northern, for, as the contest approached the final round, it was found that the four men left to battle for the prize were all representatives of the North. They were Messrs. Mansfield, Miller, Hoppin, and Smith. The final round was contested by Messrs. Mansfield and Miller, and was won easily by the former, who thus became the second champion of the South for the year 1888. In this connection a word or two in praise of young Mr. Post is not out of place. Having already won the Southern championship at Baltimore, he might well have refused to risk the loss of that honor by competing in the Country Club tournament. Mr. Post showed true spirit in preferring to play, and although beaten in one of the early rounds by Mr. Hoppin, undoubtedly stands at the head of Southern players.

The success of Mr. Mansfield was particularly gratifying to those who have been familiar with his undoubted skill in practice, and disappointed that he could not exhibit the same skill in tournament play. His experience demonstrates plainly that “confidence” is a most important factor in the success of a lawn tennis player. Mr. Mansfield’s trouble has been a lack of that factor. He has one day played a practice game of unusual strength and the next been beaten in a tournament by some player much his inferior in skill, and only by reason of lack of confidence in his own ability. Sincere modesty, such as Mr. Mansfield’s, will make a man extremely popular among lawn tennis players, but it may be regarded as a settled fact, that when two men, at all equal in skill, meet in a lawn tennis contest, the one who has the most thorough confidence in his own ability to win will surely be the victor.

The double event was won by Messrs. Mansfield and Hoppin, but in the final round Messrs. Davidson and Metcalf, the crack Washington team, gave a good exhibition of double playing and won one set from the victors. This brought to a close a most successful tournament, and the Northern players returned to their homes with a very high opinion of Southern hospitality. A feature of the visit, which will be remembered with much pleasure by all, was their call on the President of the United States. One morning about thirty of the players boarded a hay-cart, the property of that “same old negro” and drawn by two of his mules, were taken to Washington, shown all points of interest, and, finally, invaded the White House, where they were presented to President Cleveland.

As we leave Washington, with its multitude of small clubs, and arrive at Baltimore, after an hour’s travel by rail, a widely different condition of affairs is presented; for in this city the lawn tennis interest is almost entirely centred in two clubs, the Baltimore Cricket Club and the Towson Club of Towson, a suburb of Baltimore. Of these two, the Cricket Club is by far the more prominent. It is an old organization, having been founded in 1874, but it was not until 1878 that the club, then quite small in membership, leased grounds at Mount Washington, also a suburb of Baltimore and situated about six miles from the city, on the Northern Central Railroad. The railroad runs numerous trains to Mount Washington, and the drive to the club, through Druid Hill Park, is a most pleasant one.

As its name signifies, the Baltimore Cricket Club was originally organized for cricket purposes. But after lawn tennis was introduced as a club sport in the year 1879, that game rapidly became so popular with the members that the interest in cricket has decreased, a fate somewhat similar to that which has befallen this scientific game in our own St. George’s Cricket Club of New York. The rapid rise of lawn tennis in popular interest could not be more plainly demonstrated than by the experience of the Baltimore Cricket Club. Its tennis courts were originally laid out on a part of the cricket field, but the game became so widely played that it was found necessary, in 1884, to grade an additional plot of ground, to be used for tennis alone, upon which there are now ten excellent turf courts. This number was thought to be ample, but the past season has shown the necessity for still larger accommodation, and preparations are now being made for the construction of four dirt and four additional turf courts. A number of improvements were made during the past summer, the most important of which was the erection of a large and picturesque club-house, for the use of both tennis and cricket members. Ladies do not contribute to the finances or take any part in the management of the club, but become members by courtesy. A small house has been erected for their use, and some of their number, notably Miss Bonsal and Miss Latrobe, have shown much skill in lawn tennis tournaments of the North.

Tournaments open only to members of the club are usually held in the spring and fall. In these contests Mr. Leigh Bonsal has uniformly proved himself to be the club champion, until the past summer, when Mr. A. H. S. Post, the holder of the championship of the Southern Lawn Tennis Association, captured that honor. The last club tournament, a handicap, was held in October, 1888, and Mr. Post conclusively proved his superiority by winning it, though conceding considerable odds to all contestants. Mr. W. J. Bell and Mr. A. D. Atkinson, both very young players, won the doubles. Among other experts of the club are S. Taggart Steele, H. M. Brown, R. B. McLane, Jr., L. V. Lemoyne, Yates Pennington, and Frank Bonsal. With a total membership of over two hundred, and a lively interest in sports of every nature, the Baltimore Cricket Club is perhaps the most prominent athletic club of the South. Next in importance in Baltimore is the Towson Club of Towson, which does not boast of so many players, but embraces in its membership a number of those who also belong to the cricket club. It has seven good turf courts, and is particularly popular among ladies of the city.

At Wilmington, Delaware, is located one of the most flourishing clubs of the Southern section. The Delaware Field Club was organized in 1882, grounds were secured and buildings erected in 1883, and the club was incorporated in 1885. Since that time it has made its mark in the athletic world in more ways than one. Lawn tennis has always been the favorite sport of the members, and it now seems to be definitely settled that the lawn tennis world is indebted to the Delaware Field Club for the introduction of “progressive tennis,” a novelty founded on that once popular craze, “progressive euchre.”