me. From Sandwich the professionals went
on to Deal, where a tournament was held, in which I managed to secure
second place. It was Herd who beat me once again. At St. Andrews in the
1895 Competition, I returned the lowest score in the first round, but
could only tie for the ninth place at the finish. My old friend, J.H.
Taylor, who made his first essay to capture the blue ribbon of golf at
Prestwick at the same time that I did, was the winner at both this and
the previous Championship meeting. A few months later I left Bury for
Ganton; Tom, who had been over there with some Ilkley players at the
Yorkshire meeting, having heard that they were in need of a new
professional, and written to me at once with advice to apply. Between
leaving Bury and going to Ganton I had three weeks of good golf at Pau,
in the south of France, the great and unexpected honour being paid me of
an invitation to form one of a small party of professionals for whom a
series of matches and competitions had been arranged there. Taylor,
Herd, Archie Simpson, Willie Auchterlonie, and Lloyd, the local
professional, were the others. Professional golfers when they are out
together usually manage to have a pretty good time, and this occasion
was no exception. Knowing a little French, I was once appointed cashier
and paymaster for the party, but I did not know enough of the language
to feel quite at home when large figures were the subject of discussion,
and I remember that the result was an awkward incident at Bordeaux on
the return journey. We were called upon to pay excess fare for the
luxury of travelling in the express, and, failing to understand the
ticket collector, I was filling his hand with francs, one by one,
waiting for him to tell me when he was in possession of the required
amount. But he needed more and more, and the situation was becoming
embarrassing, when the guard whistled and the train moved off. If it had
not been for that intervention we might still have been paying him
excess fare. I went to Ganton immediately on my return, and in the
spring of that year, 1896, a match between Taylor and myself was
arranged on my new course, when I had the satisfaction of winning.

I was looking forward very keenly to the Open Championship that year. It
was at Muirfield, and it took place only four or five weeks after this
encouraging victory over Taylor. In the meantime I had been a little off
my game, and when I teed my first ball at Muirfield it s