greens we were both a long way from the hole. My ball was a
trifle the more distant of the two, and so I played the odd, and managed
to get down a wonderfully fine putt. Then Braid played the like and
holed out also. These were two rather creditable achievements with our
putters. When his ball had trickled safely into the hole, and the
spectators were moving towards the next tee, Braid and I were amused,
but not flattered, by the words of a man who was speaking to a friend in
such a loud voice that we could all hear. "Oh," he exclaimed
deprecatingly, "those fellows only do that sort of thing for the sake of
the applause!" How happy we should be if we could always make certain
of those long putts without any applause at all! It was with Braid also
that I was playing in a match at Luton towards the close of last year,
when I overheard a singular remark. I happened to be bunkered at the
fourteenth, and took my niblick to get out, but lost the hole. We walked
on together to the next tee, and Braid was taking his stance when we
heard two gentlemen eagerly discussing and explaining the recent bunker
incident. Evidently one of them was supposed to know something of golf
and the other nothing at all. "You see," said the former to his friend,
"there is really no rule in the matter at all. Vardon or any other
player could have used a shovel in that bunker and have simply shovelled
the ball over on to the other side." I was surprised that Braid got his
next tee shot in so well as he did. And how very often have I heard the
question asked in the crowd, "Why do those fellows chalk the faces of
their clubs?" and how invariably has the answer been, "So that they can
see afterwards where they hit the ball!" When I write my recollection of
these things, I do not wish it to be imagined that I am making any sort
of accusation against golf crowds generally. They are excellent from all
points of view; but it must inevitably happen that there are some people
among them who know little of the game, and others who do not appreciate
what a trying ordeal a hard-fought match usually is.

Such questions are often put to me as, "Vardon, what was the greatest
match in which you ever played?" or, "What was the most extraordinary
occurrence you have ever seen on the links?" and so forth. They are
questions which it is difficult to answer, for is not nearly every match
that we play brimful of incident and interest, and at the time do we not
regard many