When you have acquired a certain knowledge of the game and can play the various strokes in the correct way, then, as I have said, tournament and match play is the very best method of improvement. I would emphasize the need for a certain standard of efficiency, because I am convinced that at the present time there are too many weak players competing at open meetings. The style of these players has only to be watched to be condemned, and their knowledge of the game is hopelessly limited. Invariably making strokes in a wrong way, tournament play only serves to consolidate weaknesses and check advance.

But assuming you have practised on sound lines and are fit to take part in what, after all, should be a test of trained skill, tournaments will then be a great help to you. You will more often than not play against better players than yourself—an advantage denied you in practice—and against all varieties of attack and defence. You have the chance of watching first-class matches and learning at first hand how the different strokes should be played. You should be careful, however, to limit the number of your tournaments, especially when the excitement and strain are new to you; otherwise you will do much more harm than good. I am convinced that, generally speaking, players attend too many meetings. Instead of their play improving, it may deteriorate. They run the fearful risk of staleness—one of the greatest dangers to a lawn tennis player—and they become physically worn out. As soon as you find you are losing interest in the game, when it becomes an effort to go into court, give the game a rest. It is clear you have overdone it and need a period of recuperation. One or two tournaments at a time, and then a rest to practise the new strokes and tactical moves you have learnt and seen, would, I feel sure, be much more helpful to your game than tournament touring, week-in and week-out.

Some people advise you to dismiss the coming match entirely from your mind before going into court. Personally I find this physically impossible, and I do not commend the suggestion. I think it is much better to study your opponent's game before pitting your own against it. Many matches may be lost while you are finding out the right line of attack. Therefore I advise you to think about the match you are going to play. Mentally rehearse your mode of campaign. But do not worry over the possible result. At all costs it must not be allowed to disturb your sleep the night before—there is nothing puts me off my game so much as a sleepless night.

As soon as you know who your opponent is, seize every opportunity to watch her play, get to know her strong and her weak points, and map out your plan of campaign. Then come the first preliminaries, the toss for choice of sides or service. In choosing your side you must take into consideration the position of the sun, the wind, the slope of the court (if any), and the background. If you have won the toss and do not mind on which side you start playing, and also have a good service, elect to begin the service. If you have won the toss and for some good reason do not wish to serve first, you can make your opponent serve; but remember that you also give her choice of courts.

One of the great things to remember in match play is this—do not strive to win outright with every stroke. Especially does this maxim apply to the return of the service. So many players are inaccurate with this important stroke simply because their sole ambition is to make it end the rest. Much better to work for your opening. Try to imagine where your opponent will be after taking a certain stroke, and then according to this position determine which is the best stroke to play next. It is similar to playing chess. You should think a move or sometimes two moves in advance. Length, variety of stroke, and direction are the chief factors in success when playing a single. Very often when the place to send the ball is obvious, even to the spectators, it is just as obvious to your opponent, and she will probably be making for that place before you have even hit the ball. Then is the time to return the ball, not where every one, your opponent included, anticipates, but straight back to the original place—that is, the spot your opponent is just hurriedly leaving. She will most probably be beaten by this simple device. Trite though the hint may appear, always try to send the ball where it will be least expected.

Again I would urge the importance of keeping your whole attention absorbed on the game. Complete concentration is absolutely essential. You must lose yourself in the game—eye, mind, and hand all working together. If you find that events transpiring outside the court are attracting your attention, you cannot be watching the ball. Many players, even when concentrating, take their eye off the ball too soon, with the result that it is not properly timed and not hit cleanly in the centre of the racket.

In match play remember that a game is never lost until it is won. Never give up trying. Matches have been won (you have only to read the experiences related in the final chapter of this book) after a player has had a set and five games to love called against her. Therefore, unless the game is over, it is never too far gone to be pulled out of the fire. Even if your opponent requires only one more stroke to win the match, remember how difficult it often is to make that one.

The same applies if you have a good lead. Play hard the whole time; never for one moment slack off. For if you do it is very hard to get going again, and you may find yourself caught up and passed at the post before you have a chance of getting back into your stride. I well remember being a set up and five games to one against Miss C.M. Wilson (now Mrs. Luard) one year at Newcastle, when victory for me meant permanent possession of the challenge cup. This cup was very valuable, for it had a splendid list of names inscribed upon it; it had been going for very many years. Miss Wilson seemed so off her game, and I was winning so comfortably, that I could almost see that cup on my sideboard! But it was not to be. (At any rate not that year. I was lucky enough to win the Cup outright in 1908, when it was even more valuable, as Miss Sutton's name had been added.) Whether I unconsciously slacked off, thinking the match was mine (which is a fatal thing to do at any time), or whether Miss Wilson suddenly found her game, is impossible for me to say, but she eventually won that match and the cup and championship for the year. She never gave in, but played most pluckily right up to the end. I remember another match where the result hung in the balance for some time. I was playing Miss A.N.G. Greene at Eastbourne in 1907; again the Cup would be my own property if I won it. I met Miss Greene in the second round. She won the first set, and was five games to four in the second set, and seven times she only wanted one point to win that match. I was able to make it five games all. It was very bad luck for Miss Greene, as the moral effect, after having had seven chances of winning the match, was so great that it completely put her off her game, and I won that set and the third quite easily.

Be careful also, when you are behind, and are slowly but surely catching up your opponent, that when you do draw level you do not relax your efforts. This danger is most insidious, and must be fought against. The strain and anxiety involved in catching up, and the great relief when you are games all, provoke a reaction unless you are on your guard. A rest is taken, often involuntarily. It is fatal, because before you realize it and can get going again your opponent has run out a winner. This happened to me at Wimbledon in 1908 against Mrs. Sterry. I was behind the whole time, and it was a great relief in the second set to hear the score at last called five games all. But I had hardly taken a breather when Mrs. Sterry secured the set by seven games to five. The eleventh game I played almost unconsciously, so relieved was I at getting on even terms, when I ought to have spared no effort to win that critical game, even if I had failed. These three matches—and I could mention many others—show how important it is to play hard right up to the last stroke of the match, letting nothing put you off, never losing your temper, taking umpire's bad decisions and all the little annoyances that may disturb you in a sportsmanlike manner—keeping your whole attention, in fact, absolutely concentrated on the game.

In a single it is best when serving to stand as near the centre of the base-line as possible. In this position you have greater command of your court, and there is not so much scope for your opponent to put the ball out of your reach. Miss May Sutton, the American lady champion and ex-champion of England, in her desire to stand as near the centre of the court as she possibly can, gets so close that umpires find it very difficult to tell whether she is serving from the right court or the wrong. In fact, I think I am right in saying she has actually been pulled up for stepping over the centre line of the base-line. If you stand as close as she does you are liable to step over the line unconsciously. Stand as near the centre line as possible, but without any risk of stepping over it. On the other hand, there are players who prefer to serve from the other extreme end. Mr. A.W. Gore, the present champion of England, is one of these, but personally I cannot see any advantage in this position. It seems to leave so much open court, of which your adversary will not be slow to make use.

Use the overhead service for choice, but have an underhand service ready at your command—it may come in very useful for a change. Remember that a good-length, well-placed service is better than a very fast one, and much less tiring in a long match. Keep your opponent wondering where the service will come next; vary it as much as you possibly can, both as to pace and direction. Be sure to make your opponent move to take it.

I have tried the American service, but I think the strain is too severe for the average girl, and the advantage gained would be very slight, for the rest of your game would deteriorate, owing to fatigue. It places so much tension on all the muscles of the body, and I do not think it would do a girl's health any good to cultivate it. Of course if she were abnormally strong and did not feel the effects of the physical effort, she would be a tower of strength in the land, and her service would be an invaluable one.

I am not an advocate of persistent volleying in a lady's single. I think it is too great a tax on the physique. Nor do I think it pays in the long-run. A volleyer, to my mind, is much easier to play against than a base-liner, and most of the first-class base-line players agree with me. The great physical exertion entailed in running continually to the net will after a time make the ground strokes weaker and weaker; and you must have good length to be able to come up and volley with any success. Miss E.W. Thomson (now Mrs. Larcombe), one of our best lady volleyers, put up a magnificent game in the first set against Miss Sutton at Wimbledon in the championship singles of 1905. She had carefully watched Miss Sutton's game and thought out the best way to play her. Volleying most judiciously, she would force Miss Sutton up to the net with a short drop stroke, and then, lobbing over her head nearly on to the base-line, take up a position at the net, winning the ace with a neat cross volley. These tactics she repeated again and again, and actually led by five games to two. If she could have lasted she must have won that match. But she could not keep it up. She became obviously exhausted, did not get up to the net quickly enough, and her length got shorter and shorter. Miss Sutton eventually won that set and the next easily. Miss Sutton eventually won that set and the next easily. I do not know what would have happened if Miss Thomson, when she found she was tiring, had stayed back for a little while and then resumed her tactics at the net. Perhaps she would have come much nearer to victory.

A very large majority of non-volleyers in singles have won the ladies' championship, and I think that fact helps to prove my argument. Miss Maud Watson, Miss Rice, Mrs. Hillyard, the late Miss Robb, Miss Sutton, Miss Boothby and myself are base-liners. Miss Dod and Mrs. Sterry are the only two volleyers. Every girl, however, should learn how to volley. You may be inveigled up to the net, and you should then know how to play and place a volley. And you should go up now and then on a good-length ball.

In Doubles of course it is different. I think then a girl should volley. It will greatly improve her play all round, and will also make the game so much more attractive. I think it would be an excellent plan if ladies' doubles were always played like men's doubles, both players moving together and keeping parallel with one another, going up to the net together and retiring to the back of the court together. Competitors would improve their volleying, and the double, instead of being the dreary, monotonous affair it is now, especially for the base-liner, would be varied and instructive. I am sure referees would welcome the change with avidity. The much-dreaded, interminable ladies' double event would be a thing of the past. If we played the double with the new formation, perhaps we should succeed in re-establishing the event at Wimbledon! But it is very difficult to get ladies to volley at a tournament. They think they have more chance of winning from the back of the court. Perhaps they have. But they have much less chance of improving their game and learning a variety of strokes.

Miss V. Pinckney started a great work in 1908, organizing a ladies' volleying league, in which all ladies who entered a ladies' doubles event at any tournament were obliged to volley. A most successful experiment took place at the Beckenham tournament. Miss Pinckney and I played together at the Reading tournament, and although we were both base-liners, we determined to go to the net. We found at the end of the event (which we won, owing fifteen) that we had both much improved our volleying. Of course we made endless mistakes and were frequently in the wrong place, but it was experience so badly required. Unfortunately Miss Pinckney, the pioneer, did not play much last season, and I think the ladies have rather gone back to their old ways. It seems a thousand pities.

In Mixed Doubles a girl has a very important part to play. Practically speaking, she has to work for all the openings for her partner, who comes in and kills. And very often if in watching a mixed double you are inclined to think the man is doing little work, or that he is playing badly, it is because his partner is getting him no "plums." She is playing a poor length, or not keeping the ball out of the reach of the opposing man. It is a good plan to keep your head well down, and of course your eye glued on the ball, until the very last moment, so that it makes it difficult for the opposing man at the net to tell in which direction you are going to hit the ball. The late Miss Robb, who was a magnificent mixed doubles player, used to play in this way. Men have told me it was impossible to anticipate her returns. Keeping your head down will also help you from getting flurried or put off, however "jumpy" the opposing man is, or however much he is running across. You can always have a mental vision of him to tell you where he is without looking at him.

To play a mixed double you must be able to lob. It is really the most necessary stroke to cultivate. A very good return of the opposing lady's service, when both men are at the net, is a lob back to the server. It is much safer than lobbing over the man's head—if at all short your ball will be instantly killed—and it also gives your partner at the net plenty of time to anticipate any kind of return. It will be difficult for the server to return a good-length lob out of your partner's reach. The opposing man at the net will not be able to do anything with this lob—it is quite out of his reach—and it would be useless for him to run across as he might do for a cross drive. It is usually best, I think, for a lady to serve down the centre of the court in a mixed double. It shuts up the angles of the court more, and there is less risk of her partner being passed down his side line.

Do not enter for too many events in a tournament. You may get thoroughly worn out and not able to do yourself justice in any, and you would probably have to play when you were very tired—bad for your game, and worse still for your partner's chance in a double. Remember that before playing an important match it is very injudicious to watch another game. It is likely to put your eye out. If possible, do not travel by train just before playing, or carry anything heavy, such as your tennis bag, for this will make your hand shaky and unsteady.

To sum up, there are five golden rules which I have found very helpful to me when playing an important match. I give them to you in the hope that they may prove equally valuable. Always remember that constant practice of these rules will make their pursuit natural in a match.

I. KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL

You have so often been told this, I know, and perhaps the familiar ring about the advice may evoke contempt. Yet unless this rule is implicitly obeyed you cannot expect much success at lawn tennis. Taking your eye off the ball is the secret of every mis-hit and mis-timed stroke. You must not be content merely to look at the ball, but follow it right on to your racket; watch it up to the actual moment of striking. The court and the position of your opponent must be mentally engraved at the same time. How frequently attentive observation will reveal a player lifting his or her eye from the ball a fraction too soon! Always be on your guard against this inclination. It is at first done almost unconsciously, but it soon becomes a habit.

II. KEEP YOUR MIND ON THE GAME

This is a most important rule. As I have remarked before, complete concentration is absolutely necessary to success. If you are worried about anything, business or home affairs, it is bound to affect your game. Think of absolutely nothing but the game you are at the moment playing. Your whole personality must be absorbed. To play the game well demands the use not only of limb and muscle, but heart, eye, and brain. The first rule will help the second, because your attention must be more or less fixed on the game if you are carefully watching the ball the whole time.

III. KEEP PERFECT CONTROL OF THE TEMPER

This rule some players will find much more difficult than others. You hear of a person having the right temperament for games, of being naturally imperturbable. It is a priceless quality, for to my mind it is half the battle if nothing can disturb your equanimity. To be calm and placid at critical moments, never to get excited or flurried, or in any way put out, whatever little worries may turn up—and sometimes these worries seem endless and try one to the uttermost limit—that is one of the keys to fame on court. I think if a good games' temperament is not natural to you, it can to a great extent be cultivated. But it requires much practice and an abundance of will-power and self-control. It is a very important quality to possess, because to lose your temper, or to be upset over any trifle, not only puts you off your game, but helps your opponent to take a new lease of life and encourages her to play up harder than ever. She naturally thinks that if you are so upset at something or other your game is bound to deteriorate, and she will have a much better chance of winning the match.

IV. KEEP YOUR HEART IN THE GAME

By this I mean do not get easily downhearted and discouraged. Fight pluckily to the end, however things are going against you. Courage and pluck are wanted above all things to carry you successfully through your matches. Never say die, however hopeless the score may sound against you. If you are very done up, try not to make it too obvious. Your opponent may be just as played out as you are. Seeing your signals of distress, she will buoy herself up and continue the struggle with renewed hope and vigour.

V. KEEP YOUR METHOD ON THE MOVE

This maxim is rather difficult to explain. What I mean is, you should vary your manner of play and re-adapt it in order to counteract your opponent. Upset her usual game by your tactics. It is always a great mistake to keep up a method of attack or defence if it is proving unavailing. If necessary, keep your own method of play continually on the change. A change of tactics has often meant a change of fortune in the game. Never let your opponent know what you are going to do next; do what she would least expect. Always try to make a stroke. Give her plenty of the strokes you know she doesn't like. I have often felt myself improving an opponent's weak stroke by pegging away at it. It gives her plenty of excellent practice, of course, and when you find she is beginning not to mind it so much, give it a rest. When you go back to it you will probably find it successful again. Use your brain, and always know what you are trying to do. Play with an object of attack and defence. Do not merely return the ball aimlessly; let each stroke have its little work to do to complete the whole victory. This is difficult, I know, but it is so much more fascinating, and is, I am sure, the way the game was meant to be played. There is much science that can be brought into lawn tennis, always something new to learn. And that is the reason why we never tire of playing it.