as neat and
look as nice as she possibly can, even when playing a strenuous game, it
is hardly possible or natural to be "just so" every second of a long
struggle. In fact, I think it is more interesting to see a girl not
absolutely immobile. I prefer that she should show some signs of
excitement, that her muscles should be strained and her face set. This
has a very real pleasure of its own, and I do not think it unsightly.
Public speaking and singing may distort the mouth and disturb the facial
muscles to a most ludicrous extent and give the eyes quite an unnatural
appearance; but I have never yet heard it said that a man or woman
should give up either because of its effect upon the appearance. Why,
then, should women abandon athletic exercises, which they enjoy so much,
and which do them so much good, merely because, just for a moment or two
perhaps, their appearance is distorted?

CHAPTER II

PRACTICE, AND HOW TO IMPROVE

Players, even tournament players, often ask how they can improve. "I
have been at the same stage so long; what can I do to play a better
game?" That is not infrequently the question. Now I think many who are
very anxious to advance go to work in the wrong way. To my mind, the
great point to remember when you are practising is not that the match
must be won, but that all your weak strokes must be improved. We all
know our special failures; if not, some kind friend will soon point them
out to us. Tackle these doggedly in practice. Strokes naturally avoided
in a match should be given as much experience as possible in a knock-up
game. It is the only way. Many players make the cardinal mistake of
playing day after day in the same way; they starve all their weak
strokes and overdo all their best ones; in fact, they play in precisely
the same manner as if the occasion were an important match. If you do
this, you must always preserve those weak strokes; they are not even
given a chance to develop. I once asked a girl whom I noticed
continually running round her back-hand in a practice game, why she did
this. The characteristic answer came back: "I cannot take a back hand. I
should be hopelessly beaten if I didn't run round the ball." But what
does it matter if you are beaten fifty times in a practice game if you
are improving your strokes? That girl's back-hand could never improve;
she made absolutely no distinction between a practice game and a match.
In fact, it was very little of a _practice_