MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 7, 8 January 1907, Page 2

MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES.

The Making of a Tennis

Player.

J. Parmly Paret, one of the beat tennis players in the United States, gives, Through "Country Life in America," some sensible advice to would-be champions. ,

To begin with, lie wisely insists \ L .hat it is as important to know how to get the shots as it is to know how to plvvy them. In other words, a tennis player, like a billiardiat, must play for position. "In handling the shots it is only the less experienced players that one sees smashing at balls from back of the service line, and trying for impossible passes. Such play is for the grandstand, not for the score board.

"It is an excellent maxim to keep in mind that to win tennis matches, one should never attempt to kill difficult balls, and never miss an easy kill. The best plan of campaign is to keep the opponent constantly in difficulties by 'forcing , him as much as possible, by placing the ball at his weakest point and keeping him embarrassed In his strokes, and the chance will soon come for the easy killing stroke that wins the game. It is generalship that wins most tennis matches, not brawn or grandstand strokes.

"It ia a curious fact tbat nearly every book written on lawn tennis cautions the player te keep his eye 3on the ball at the moment of striking it, yet there are very few expert players who do so. It is principally because of this that lawn tennis players have so much trouble in mastering golf; front tennis habit, they take their eyes off the ball too soon for golf success.

Yet it is sheer folly to teil a beginner he need not watch the ball to hit it properly; for this is not true, and 1 it is only after the hitting process ' has , become pretty well mastered that it becomes safe to look up before striking. It is very much better to watch the ball fcoo long than too little, just as it is advisable to learn thoroughly to hit the ball well before a young player worries much , , over placing it close to the sidelines. ,

"A delicate calculation is necesear.v to anticipate the return of a lawn tennis ball. While rapidly moving across the court the player must calculate the spot where the flying ball will strike tho ground, then the angle, height and distance of its rebound, and, finally, select an imaginary point at which he hopes to meet it with his racquet. All this calculation must be completed before the ball leaves the ground, for the swing of the racquet begins then, and little change can be made in its direction after it has started. This explains why beginners find it so difficult to hit the ball with the middle of their racquetSj as they should, and why experts can look up from the ball before hitting it.

MR. CHAMBERLAIN'S ORCHIDS.

One of the greatest sources of interest to Mr. Chamberlain his indisposition has been his wonderful collection of orchids. They are displayed in fine houses which lead from his draw-ing-room. Thus, let the weather be ever so inclement, he may still visit his beloved blooms without let or hindrance from the clerk of the weather. One noble orchid has been, called after Mr. Chamberlain, who, since he first turned his attention to these flowers, has made their cultivation the absorbing recreation of his life. The bloom of which he used to be most proud, however, was the Cattleya Autumnalis Vera. This is an orchid with a history. It was once famous and popular. Then it disappeared as completely as if it had never existed. For yeaTS it was lost. Hunter at last rediscovered it, and Mr. Chamberlain was not happy until his collection included one.

TIM HEALY'S DOMESTIC SIDE,

It has been my good fortune to be on terms of friendship with most of the notable Irish members in the House of Commons during recent years, writes Spencer Leigh Hughes in "M.A.P." There is Tim Healy, for instance—"Tiger Tim" as some call him. I have seen this redoubtable Parliamentarian, a man whose sarcasm is of the scorching or skin-you-alive sort, in his own home just outside Dublin, at Chapelizod, on the banks of the Liffey. There he is a model of all the domestic virtues — gay, humorous, kindly, without a hard word for anyone. When I was there —it is now some years ago—his children seemed to rule him— which is more than can be said of the whole House of Commons. Instead ol being excited about public affairs, I found him chiefly interested in an installation of the electric light, which he so arranged that it was worked by a turbine driven by the waters of the Liffey. It was there that I heard the tale of how on the day of his wedding, when he had just married his excellent wife, a daughter of Mr. T. D. Sullivan, for a long time a member of Parliament, Tim, in the agitation of the moment when the two were leaving for the honeymoon, took up by mistake his father-in-law's umbrella, and was making off with it. "No, no, Tim," called out the old gentleman, "don't take that, mc boy — I've several daughters, but only one umbrella." I shall never forget the ceaseless flow of talk as he rowed mc about in a boat on the Liffey, and gave mc accounts of many a memorable incident in the House of Commons, and I was particularly struck by the fact that he did not say a harsh word about anyone. He is quite a subdued creature at home, petting a favourite pony that was too fat to do any work, or giving orders to a dog that simply laughed in its master's face, and did as it liked. And there is more than one hou?e in London in which this savage debater has been seen down on his hands and knees, while delighted children have sat astride his back.