These great Swiss rinks, the construction of which has already been dealt with, are made for the benefit of the skater and the curler, but wherever possible the curler should be accommodated with a separate rink of his own. Epicure though the skater is, with regard to the smoothness and levelness of his ice, the curler, quite rightly, is even more exigent, and slight slopes of surface and minute inequalities and roughnesses which do not interfere with the skater at all, make it impossible for the curler to have a satisfactory rink. In any case, the curler’s portion must be roped off from the skating part of the rink, for, naturally, no skate blade must make the smallest scratch on his sacred enclosure; while, on the other side, the curler is liable, in the ecstasies of his “sooping,” to shed and scatter pieces of broom which wander on to the skater’s ice and cause falls. Besides, the skip habitually shouts at the top of his voice, and a good stone evokes choruses of open-throated music: thus, if many curlers are shouting at the top of their voices, combined skaters cannot hear the caller, unless he shouts at the top of his voice. If he does this while skating a figure, he will speedily become purple in the face and quite breathless. Also, the curler smokes when he curls, which tempts the skater to do likewise, and for the sake of the rink he must not. For those and many other reasons, the curler should, when possible, have a separate rink of his own, where he can soop and shout and smoke without interfering with anybody.

Now, just as the art of skating has enormously progressed owing to the facilities afforded by Swiss rinks and winters, so too has that great sister art of curling. As in all forms of sport where delicacy or “touch” are essential to success, occasional practice is not enough to produce really first-rate curlers, or, indeed, to keep the first-rate curler at the top of his game; and any who wish to excel must have constant practice, such as Swiss or Canadian winters give him. But Canada is a far cry to go a-curling, and we may put down the vastly-growing number of curlers, and their growing skill, to the opportunities afforded by Switzerland. There, all day long, in a brilliant sun and yet on unsoftened ice, harder and faster than is ever procurable in English or Scotch winters, the game goes on, and I do not know of a single Swiss resort where provision is not made for those who practise this delightful sport.

Into the history of curling there is not space to penetrate, and we must, in a treatise of which the range is confined to the present and does not explore into the mists of antiquity, confine ourselves to considering the practical aspects of the game. As St. Andrews is to golf, as the N.S.A. is to skating, or the M.C.C. to cricket, so to curling is the Royal Caledonian Club, whose rules are the acknowledged authority on all points in connection with the game. It would take too much space to give these in extenso, but the following extracts, with certain notes, will be found to explain the principles and practice of the game, and enable anyone to construct a standard rink.

1. The length of the rink for play, viz. from the hack or from the heel of the crampit to the tee, shall be 42 yards—in no case shall it be less than 32 yards.

2. The tees shall be 39 yards apart—and, with a tee as the centre, a circle having a radius of 7 feet shall be drawn. Additional inner circles may also be drawn.

3. In alignment with the tees, lines, to be called central lines, shall be drawn from the tees to points 4 yards behind each tee, and at these points foot scores 18 inches in length shall be drawn at right angles, on which, at 6 inches from the central line, the heel of the crampit shall be placed; when, however, in lieu of a crampit a hack is preferred, it shall be made 3 inches from the central line, and not more than 12 inches in length.

4. Other scores shall be drawn across the rink at right angles to the central line, as in the diagram, viz.:

Note.—In these four rules are contained the complete directions for the marking out of the rink. But as they contain certain terms of mystic meaning, it may be useful to state them in a less technical manner.

In other words, then, you start with a point on the ice, which is the “tee,” and using this as a centre you draw round it a circle of 7-foot radius. This is done by means of a lath or strip of wood with two nails or steel points projecting from the lower face, 7 feet apart. Inserting one of these in the centre you pull the lath round, so that the other scratches on the ice a circumference at a distance of 7 feet. As stated in Rule 2, “additional circles” may also be drawn. These circles are drawn from the same centre, with a radius of 2½ and 4 feet respectively from it. This is done for convenience in measuring the distance from the tee of stones lying within the 7-foot radius, as it gives additional lines of measurement. This whole system of circles with the central tee is called “the house,” and, as we shall see, all stones which, after being played, have come to rest with any part of them lying within the house, may add to the score of the side which has projected them there. Behind the house, in the position specified in Rule 3, is placed the crampit. This is a strip of iron long enough for the player to stand on with one foot in advance of the other. It is roughened with spikes on its lower side, so that it maintains a firm position on the ice, and at the back of it is a ridge against which the player places his right foot before delivering the stones. It forms, in fact, a firm base for playing from, since, if anybody attempted to put down a curling-stone, while standing on the ice itself, with sufficient velocity to make it slide over the 42 yards to the other tee, he would quite certainly slip and put himself down instead. It is from a crampit that almost all curlers nowadays play. As an alternative they may use what is in the rule called a “hack,” which is a small iron contrivance fixed to the boot, and which answers the same purpose as a crampit. But it is not, in Switzerland anyhow, often seen, for it requires adjustment for each individual player, whereas the crampit fits all alike.

Now this arrangement of hog-score (usually called “the hog”), back score, sweeping score, “house” and crampit (or hack), scratched in the ice according to these directions, completes the construction of one end of the rink. At the other end a similar construction is made in alignment, the centre of the two houses being 39 yards from one another. Here is the rink ready for play, and the rest of the rules deal entirely with the game itself.

Note.—Now I have before me the Rules of the Royal Caledonian Curling Club of 1911-1912, which, I believe, are the latest. But neither there nor elsewhere can I find the slightest allusion to the principles of scoring at the game, foreknowledge of which is probably assumed. But since it is possible that there are those who do not know how the score is made, it is well to state it. Briefly, then, the stone which, at the end of a “head” or “end” of the match (which is made up by every player having had his turn, and having played his two stones), lies nearest to the tee counts one point to the side to which the stone belongs, given that it or any part of it lies within the house. If the stone that lies next nearest to the tee belongs to the same side it counts one also; so also does the next nearest and the next nearest and the next nearest, provided they are all in the house and belong to the same side. But if, after the stone lying nearest to the tee, the next nearest belongs to the opposing side, the first-named counts one, but this second stone takes precedence of all others lying in the house, and the side that owns the nearest one counts one only. Supposing there are two stones which, after measurement, are found to lie exactly equidistant from the tee, the head or end is a draw, and is like a halved hole at golf.

5. All matches shall be of a certain number of heads or shots or by time as may be agreed on, or as fixed by an umpire at the outset....

6. Every rink of players shall be composed of four a side, each using two stones, and no player shall wear boots, tramps, or sandals with spikes or other contrivances which shall break or damage the surface of the ice. The rotation of play observed during the first head of a match shall not be changed.

Note.—Players are usually shod with “gouties.” These are cloth overshoes with india-rubber soles, and are put on over the boot. What is required is (by the rule) something that will not injure the ice, while the player for his own sake will wear something that enables him to run with the stone he is sweeping with the least possible risk of falling down. On the whole, rubber-soled footgear is the best.

7. The skips opposing each other shall settle, by lot or in any other way they may agree upon, which party shall lead at the first head, after which the winners of the preceding head shall do so.

Note.—The head, as already stated, consists of the projection of sixteen stones from one crampit towards the house at the other end of the rink, for each player puts down two stones, and there are eight players. Then when all have played the head is complete, the score is recorded, and the next head is played from the crampit behind the house into which they have just been playing. They “cross over,” that is to say, to the other end of the rink.

The skips (short for skippers) are the captains of the opposing sides. They have complete control of their sides, and direct each player (with due regard for his capabilities) what shot he is to play for. The skips “toss up” who shall have the choice of beginning (stones being played by opposing sides alternately), and the side which scores at the first head takes the honour (as at golf) at the second head. If neither side scores (the head being halved) the honour remains as it was. It may be noted also that though in regular matches (as stated in Rule 5) the number of heads to be played is settled beforehand, in an ordinary friendly game it is more usual merely to see how time is going when play has been in progress a couple of hours or so, and then determine how many more heads shall be played.

8. All curling-stones shall be of a circular shape. No stone, including handle and bolts, shall be of a greater weight than 44 lb. imperial, or of greater circumference than 36 inches, or of less height than one-eighth part of its greatest circumference.

Note.—The stones, then, are great granite buns with a handle to project them by. The usual weight is from about 36 to 40 lb., and the reason why a limit is given to their weight is that people like Mr. Sandow could doubtless deliver stones which weighed as much as grand pianos. These could not be shifted by lighter granite buns, which would merely recoil from them. Two or three of them would also fill up the greater part of the fairway of the rink.

9. No stone shall be substituted for another (except under Rules 10 and 14) after the match has begun, but the sole of a stone may be reversed at any time during a match, provided the player is ready to play when his turn comes.

Note.—The question of the reversing of stones is dealt with later in the practical part of this essay. For the moment it is sufficient to say that one side of the stone is very highly polished, the other less so. When the stone is put down on its highly polished (or “keen”) side, it will, of course, with the same initial velocity travel further than if put down on its rougher (or “dour”) side, the friction on the ice being less.

10. Should a stone be broken, the largest fragment shall be considered in the game for that head—the player being entitled to use another stone or another pair during the remainder of the match.

11. All stones which roll over, or come to rest on their sides or tops, shall be removed from the ice.

Note.—So weird a phenomenon seems impossible, but then curlers are very weird also. Incredible as it may sound, it is quite possible to put down one of these great granite buns with the handle in the centre of its top crust so unevenly that, after a drunken wobble or two, it turns right over amid howls and shouts and execrations. Probably you could not do it if you tried, any more than you could cut a golf-ball smartly to square leg when you mean to go quite straight. But these distressing feats are known to occur, without the player having had the smallest desire to accomplish them. The traditional penalty for thus mishandling a stone is “drinks all round.” The present writer has never seen a stone come to rest on its side, but “credit, quia impossibile.”

13. Players, during the course of each head, shall be arranged along the sides, but well off the centre of the rink.... Skips only shall be entitled to stand within the seven-foot circle.

14.... Should a player play a wrong stone, any of the players may stop it while running; but if the mistake is not noticed till the stone is at rest, the stone which ought to have been played shall be put in its place, to the satisfaction of the opposing skip.

16. The sweeping shall be under the direction and control of the skips. The player’s party may sweep the ice from the hog score next the player to the tee, and any stone set in motion by a played stone may be swept by the party to which it belongs. When snow is falling or drifting, the player’s party may sweep the ice from tee to tee.... Both skips have equal rights to clean and sweep the ice behind the tee at any time, except when a player is being directed by his skip....

Note.—The all-important question of sweeping is dealt with later. The principle at the base of the rule is that a player’s side may encourage (or not) his stone to proceed, but the other side may not interfere with it in any way at all. In accordance with this principle is the direction that says that if a stone during its course moves a stone belonging to the other side, that stone may be swept or left alone at the option of the other side.

17. (a) If in sweeping or otherwise a running stone is marred by any of the party to which it belongs, it may, in the option of the opposing skip, be put off the ice; but if by any of the adverse party, it may be placed where the skip of the party to which it belongs shall direct....

(b) Should any played stone be displaced before the head is reckoned, it shall be placed as nearly as possible where it lay....

18. No measuring of shots shall be allowed previous to the termination of the head.

19. The skip shall have the exclusive regulation and direction of the game for his rink, and may play last stone or any part of the game he pleases.... When his turn to play comes, he shall select one of the players to act as skip in his place.

22. Every stone shall be eligible to count which is not clearly outside the seven-foot circle. Every stone which does not clear the hog-score shall be a hog, and must be removed from the ice.... Stones passing the back-score, and lying clear of it, must be removed from the ice, as also any stone which in its progress touches the swept snow on either side the rink.

Note.—Thus there is only a certain portion of the ice on which stones may remain during the progress of each “end” or “head.” If a player sends down a stone too weakly so that it does not reach the hog-score, or so crookedly that it goes into the swept snow at the side of the rink, or so strongly that it passes over the back-score, it is at once removed from the ice. But, strangely enough, it is nowhere laid down what the breadth of a rink should be. Somewhat pathetically this rule presupposes that there is always “swept snow” at the side of the rink, which, happily, is not the case. As a matter of fact the space allowed for each rink is, roughly speaking, about 20 feet, though I am not aware that it is laid down authoritatively anywhere. In any case a stone, to be of the slightest use, must be lying not so wide as 10 feet (lateral measurement) from the tee, and those lying wider, as well as those which have definitely passed beyond the back-score, cannot conceivedly come into play, and so may as well be removed. But the case is different with stones lying short of the hog-score, and in a straight line between the tees. Such stones, as will be readily understood, might possibly be of the utmost value to guard other stones lying in the house, and perhaps to be promoted into possible scorers. A guard, then, which is so important an item, must be put down with some skill, and with requisite strength, and thus it is laid down that stones lying short of the hog are considered not to have been sufficiently skilfully played to take part in the game and be of value to their side. These are therefore ignominiously removed.

Here, then, have been given the conditions under which, and the court, so to speak, in which, this great game is played, and we will suppose ourselves on the fast, perfect ice of a Swiss resort on a sunny morning. The skips have “picked up” their sides; every player has a broom or “besom,” which we will hope sweeps clean; the four players on each side, namely No. 1 as lead, No. 2, No. 3, and No. 4, have had their places allotted to them. As a general rule it is the skip who plays in the most difficult place—i.e. No. 4, where, if the other three players under their skip’s direction have built up an interesting house, he will have the most delicate and hazardous shots to negotiate. But it sometimes happens that the skip, who primarily should be chosen because of his knowledge of the game, may not have the requisite skill of hand for that post: it may happen that a player on his side is a finer performer in the delivery of his stones, though his skill in tactics and generalship may be inferior. In such a case the skip, who directs the place of each player, may put himself in another position, and, if he does not play as No. 4, will usually lead. Then he goes first, and can devote a mind, untroubled by the thought of the shots he will himself have to play, to the tactics of his campaign. But, as a rule, the player with the best knowledge of the game is usually the best player also, or, at any rate, is good enough for the critical post of No. 4, and in general the skip occupies that position.

Round about the crampit, behind the back-score, are ranged the sixteen stones which the players have selected, and if they are wise they will have turned them momentarily upside down, so that they rest on their handles on the ice, and their bases, or soles, are exposed to the rays of the sun. This should be done because it often happens that some fragment of broom or some little congelation of frost has frozen on to the soles, which will impede their smooth passage down the rink. But if they are slightly warmed like this, a polish on the side of the besom or on the glove will ensure their being quite free from any such impediment. In order to identify the stones of each side, it is usual to tie some fragment of ribbon to the handles or otherwise distinguish the stones of one side from those of the other, since without some such mark they are as alike as sheep, and, as is obvious, the whole game depends on the relative position of the stones of one side as opposed to that of the stones of the other. But if one side is “ribbons” and the other “plain” the skip sees at a glance, even when the house is growing most populous and complicated, how his enemies lie and what is the position of his own stones.

The skips, then, take up their positions by the house into which the stones are about to be played. Only one skip, as laid down by the rules, may be in the house at any given moment, and that skip is the skip of the player then delivering his stone. The other skip stands outside and behind the house, but ready, if the stone of his opposing side has been put down too strongly, to sweep it out of the house when it has once passed the tee. Till it reaches the tee he may not interfere with it in any way, but once past that he may (and certainly will) polish the surface of the ice over which it is going to travel for all he is worth, so as to assist it in passing through the house altogether and so be taken off the ice. If, on the other hand, his side has the house, he stands inside the house, or in front of it, calls out how he wants the stone laid, and holds his broom as a mark on to which the player is to aim his stone. On that mark the player, if he hopes to deliver a successful stone, must fix his eye with the hungry steadfastness with which he has to look at his ball at golf.

Then, in order to grasp the hang of the game, we, the invisible spectators, must leave the skip with the besom pointing on to the ice and observe the other players. Down the rink they are ranged, No. 2 of one side opposite No. 2 of the other, No. 3 opposite No. 3, leaving the centre of the ice, the “howe-ice,” as it is called, clear for the passage of the stones. Thus to No. 1, who is about to deliver his stone, the whole of the house with its seven foot radius is unimpeded. Just outside that empty riband of ice, so soon to ring with the sliding stones, stand No. 2 and No. 3, his own No. 2 and No. 3 on one side, the inimical No. 2 and No. 3 on the other. His own side should be alert for any direction from the motionless skip; the other side are sublimely indifferent, for they may not interfere with the course of his stone.

He delivers the stone: the skip, eagle-eyed, watches the pace of it. It may seem to him to be travelling with sufficient speed to reach the spot at which he desires it should rest. In this case he says nothing whatever, except probably “Well laid down.” Smoothly it glides, and in all probability he will exclaim “Not a touch”: or (if he is very Scotch, either by birth or by infection of curling) “not a cow” (which means not a touch of the besom). On the other hand he may think that it has been laid down too weakly and will not get over the hog-line. Then he will shriek out, “Sweep it; sweep it” (or “soop it; soop it”) “man” (or “mon”). On which No. 2 and No. 3 of his side burst into frenzied activity, running by the side of the stone and polishing the surface of the ice immediately in front of it with their besoms. For, however well the ice has been prepared, this zealous polishing assists a stone to travel, and vigorous sweeping of the ice in front of it will give, even on very smooth and hard ice, several feet of additional travel, and a stone that would have been hopelessly hogged will easily be converted into the most useful of stones by diligent sweeping, and will lie a little way in front of the house where the skip has probably directed it to be. If he is an astute and cunning old dog, as all skips should be, he will not want this first stone in the house at all; in fact, if he sees it is coming into the house, he will probably say “too strong.” Yet, since according to the rules only stones inside the house can count for the score, it seems incredible at first sight why he should not want every stone to be there. This “inwardness” will be explained later.

No. 1 of the other side delivers his stone: No. 1 of the first side delivers his second stone, and No. 1 of the opposing side delivers his second stone. And from this moment the whole problem of the game becomes as complicated and interesting, given that the stones perform something like that which is required of them, as does a game of chess when the first four or five moves of a recognised gambit have been played and countered. Even at so early a period of a head at curling, the possibilities of its subsequent development are almost infinite; the building up of the house may progress in a hundred different ways, and it will be possible only to consider only one or two of the problems with which the skip is confronted.

In actual “moves,” what has happened is this: the leads (No. 1) of each side have played their stones, and No. 2 on each side go up to the crampit for their turn. No. 3 on each side thereupon moves towards the crampit, while No. 1 on each side becomes the sweeper nearest the house, so that each stone as it comes down the ice may have its sweeper ready if sweeping is ordered. No. 3 (when No. 2 is playing) is nearest No. 2: he dances sideways along the ice ready to sweep if the order comes, until he delivers the stone into the keeping of No. 1, who has just played. Often, if sweeping is an urgent necessity, both he and No. 1 will vigorously scour in front of the progressing stone, since often in the ensuing situations it is not a question of additional feet that are required, but of an inch or two. There may be a stone in the house already, and it is doubtful whether an opposing stone has “legs” or vitality enough just to pass it, and thus lie nearer to the tee. In such a case all possible assistance must be rendered it; the skip will career wildly out of his house and join No. 3 and No. 1 in their operations. Anything, anything to give this dying stone an inch more of travel!... Also, a stone with smooth ice in front of it will travel more directly, that is with less curl upon it, as it is becoming moribund, than a stone which has the infinitesimal fractions of tiny frost-flower or moisture to encounter. But that opens up the awful question of “handle.”... There will be something about that in its appropriate place.

But here, at any rate, we have the rink moving. Slow stones are being encouraged to cross the hog, or to enter the house, or, even at this early stage, to cannon rudely against the stones already in the house which must be ejected. Theoretically, I think, in the ideal game of curling, which we shall never see on this side of the grave, the leads should have laid down four stones a little in front of the house, or perhaps each lead should first have put down a stone in front of the house, and then delivered their second stones with in-handle or out-handle, round their first stones, which thus become guards of their second stones, which should lie, say, in the four-foot circle. But we need not consider so perfect an opening. If any leads led like that, they would be skips of a team of archangels, who would be soundly rated for their clumsy play.

As a matter of fact, what usually happens in a good team is this sort of thing. The first man to play miscalculates the speed of the ice (though he is quite a good player) and is soundly hogged. His opposing No. 1, being too frightfully intelligent, and profiting by that which he has seen, puts down a stone that passes the tee, and rests perhaps in the seven-foot circle beyond it. And though that stone for the moment “counts”: that is to say it is in the house, and, theoretically, may be a winner, it will not in real practice be of any good when the head is finished. There is bound to be a better stone than that, and any other stone over the hog that lies in front of the house, though not counting at present, is far superior, for it can be promoted (i.e. brought nearer the tee) by any stone that strikes it, whether of its own side or of the enemy, and thus is both dangerous to the other side and helpful towards its own. Also it can become the most valuable guard for a stone that has curled round it and lies in the house and behind it, whereas the stone that comes to rest beyond the tee can, if struck, only travel further away from the tee instead of towards it.

The two leads put down their second stones. They have gauged the speed of the ice, and this time do as their skip tells them. They both put down stones that come to rest just in front of the house, or perhaps just in it. But if either of them make what would be the most perfect shot of all, if they were playing the last shot of No. 4, namely one that rests on the tee itself, or in the 2½-foot circle (called the pot-lid), he has not done probably as much for his side as if he had laid his stone just in front of the house, for No. 2 of the other side follows, and he has only to be straight irrespective of too great speed to dislodge that perfect stone and in all probability lie there himself. A guarded stone in such a position is the most valuable stone that can be imagined, but without a guard its worth is enormously decreased. Indeed it is positively a dangerous stone, since it gives the other side something to rest on.

We will suppose, then, that when No. 2 plays there are lying on the ice two stones, both a little in front of the house, one right in the middle of the ice, the other three or four feet to the side of it. The object now will probably be to get past those stones, and, by the twist imparted to the stone No. 2 now delivers, to lie behind one or other of them in the house, and thus be guarded. If this shot is perfectly played there will be lying a stone close up to the tee and incapable of being directly attacked (i.e. by a hard shot played down straight on to it), for the guarding stone in front of the house prevents this, and it is a very different thing to be obliged to play round this guarding stone so as to hit the other. Thus it may be necessary for the opposing skip to direct that this guard should be removed by a fast straight stone, so as to open up the house again. But this costs a stone, even if successful, and stones are not lightly to be squandered. Should this shot come off, the first skip will probably direct that another guard be laid to protect this asset in the house. Having once got a stone in a probably winning position, the skip is right to guard it and to guard it and to guard it, directing that stones should be laid to right and left of it, so as to block the passage of a stone which, by curling inwards or outwards, can reach and dislodge it, and perhaps lie there in its place. Practically speaking, a stone which lies close to the tee should be guarded at the cost of every stone belonging to the side if necessary (i.e. if the guards are being removed by the enemy), and no skip in his senses will direct his player to put other stones in the house until he has rendered reasonably secure from attack the stone of his which lies close to the tee.

The above analysis of these early stones takes, of course, only one case out of the hundred ways in which they may lie, and gives but one instance of the value of stones lying in front of the house, rather than (in the early stages of the game) in the house. Among other values they possess they are also capable of being promoted—i.e. a subsequent player may be directed to hit one of them gently, so as to push it into the house, while his will lie there in its place guarding it. Or he may be told, if the stone in question is lying rather wide, to get an inwick off it—i.e. play on to the inner side of it, as in the manner of a half-ball shot at billiards, and, cannoning off it, slip into the house himself. Perhaps it will be an enemy’s stone selected for this manoeuvre, and perhaps, also, he will hit the wrong side of it (i.e. the outer side), and instead of slipping into the house himself, will kindly promote the other stone instead. Thus these stones in front of the house are both an asset and a danger, and it is not too much to say that their presence, lying there, is about the largest constituent in the interest of the “end” and the building of the house. They present, as has been seen, infinite possibilities of value and menace. And all their terrific potentialities have to be weighed and pondered by the skip.

When twelve stones have been put down (i.e. when the first three players on each side have contributed two each) the skips, if playing four, leave the house and go down to the crampit to deliver their stones. One in all probability looks troubled, the other in that case will almost certainly wear a face of benignant elation and call attention to the beauty of the morning. Their places in the house to direct and hold the guiding besom are taken by other members of their side (probably the No. 3s), and before they go they will almost certainly hold a secret and muttered conversation with these gentlemen, consulting and conferring over the shots to be attempted. For by this time the situation, if the play has been respectable, is sure to have become complicated. Very likely four or five stones are in the house, and of those four or five all but one may happen to belong to one side. But that one is sitting there on the very tee itself, and thus takes precedence of all the others. If only it could be got at and evicted and soundly butted out of the house, the other four would all count. But it lies well guarded, for just in front of the house are two stones a little to right and left of it. There is clear ice (a “port” as it is called) of not more than two feet between them, through which it is possible to send a stone that will reach that tee-sitter. But, oh, how small a two-foot port looks at the distance of nearly forty yards!

Now, it is to the first skip that this by-every-means-in-his-power-to-be-guarded stone belongs, and with justice he fears that his opposing skip is perfectly capable of sailing blandly through that rather narrow port, butting the stone that lies so perfectly on the tee out of the house altogether, and lying there himself instead. So he has elected to play a shot that will close up that port and leave the stone on the tee for the moment impregnable. He wants to lie just over the hog and no more, for the nearer a stone is to the hog the more it blocks the passage. So, calling on his sweepers to be ready to sweep (“Sweepers wake!” in fact), he puts down his stone with in-handle on it, directing this a little

“SHE LIES”

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams