might imagine by the name that the ball is kicked. On the contrary the
real action of the game consists in running down, tripping up, smashing
into, and falling on whomever has the ball. As a consequence, men wear a
soft armor. There are fashions in sports which demonstrate the
ephemeral quality of the American love for sport. A while ago "wheeling"
was popular, and everybody wheeled. Books were printed on the etiquette
of the sport; roads were built for it and improved; but suddenly the
working class took it up and fashion dropped it. Then came golf,
imported from Scotland. With this fad millions of dollars were expended
in country clubs and greens all over the United States, as acres of land
were necessary. People seized upon this with a fierceness that warmed
the hearts of dealers in balls and clubs. The men who edited wheel
magazines now changed them to "golf monthlies." This sport began to wane
as the novelty wore off, until golf is now played by comparatively few
experts and lovers.

Society introduced the automobile, and we have the same thing--more
magazines, the spending of millions, the building of the _garage_, and
the appearance of the _chaufeur_ or driver. Then came the etiquette of
the auto--a German navy cap, rubber coat, and Chinese goggles. This
peculiar uniform is of course only to be worn when racing, but you see
the American going out for a slow ride solemnly attired in rubber coat
and goggles. The moment the auto comes within reach of the poor man it
will be given up; but it is now the fad and a most expensive one, the
best machines costing ten thousand dollars or more, and I have seen
races where the speed exceeded a mile a minute.

All sports have their ethics and rules and their correct costuming.
Baseball men are in uniform, generally white, with various-colored
stockings. The golfer wears a red coat and has a servant or valet, who
carries his bag of clubs, designed for every possible expediency. To
hear a group of golfers discuss the merits of these tools is one of the
extraordinary experiences one has in America. I have been made fairly
"giddy," as the Englishmen say, by this anemic conversation at country
clubs. The "high-ball" was the saving clause--a remarkable invention
this. Have I explained it? You take a very tall glass, made for the
purpose, and into it pour the contents of a small cut-glass bottle or
decanter of whisky, which must be Scotch, tasting of smoke. On this you
pour seltzer