IT is surely time for the foolish attitude of many good players toward putting to be abandoned once for all. It reminds me of the hysterical damsel who begged her companion to protect her from "that horrible creature with horns," and, when her companion pointed out to her the fact that the horrible creature was nothing but a peacefully grazing mooley cow that did not have any horns, grew very indignant and said that all cows had horns and that she had never heard of one that did not.

In like manner many players, metaphorically speaking, throw up their hands when they reach the green and act as though the smoothly rolling turf and the innocent white ball had conspired to defeat their best endeavors. When they are reminded that putting, after all, is rather a simple process, they fall back on the assertion that some putters are "lucky" but cling to their distrust of the seemingly guileless ball and green.

Why the very best players have hypnotized themselves into this helpless and hopeless state of mind about putting is difficult to understand, but their own writings testify that they are suffering from some hallucination on the subject. J. H. Taylor, in "Taylor on Golf," page 83, says: "And here I may say at once it is impossible to teach a man to putt. Even the leading professionals are weak in this department of the game. Do you think they would not improve themselves in this particular stroke were such a thing within the range of possibility? Certainly they would." Later on he says: "Putting, in short, is so different to any other branch of the game that the good putter may be said to be born, not made."

If one were to take Taylor at his word one might as well give up putting before beginning unless one discovered oneself to be that phenomenon, a born putter. There would then be occasion for great rejoicing because against such an especially favored mortal the conspiracy of the green could have no effect.

Harry Vardon believes that every one is endowed by nature with a certain putting style and it is quite useless for a teacher to try to do more than help him cultivate his own particular method. In "The Complete Golfer," page 143, after having referred to his teaching of other strokes, he says: "I have no similar instruction to offer in the matter of putting. There is no rule, and there is no best way. . . . The fact is that there is more individuality in putting than in any other department of golf and it is absolutely imperative that this individuality should be allowed to have its way."

On another page he says: "The heart that does not quail when a yawning bunker lies far ahead of the tee just at the distance of a good drive, beats in trouble when there are but thirty inches of smooth turf to be run over before the play of the hole is ended."

Truly, putting must be to him a fearsome operation. It is remarkable that, after having made these most discouraging statements, these eminent players proceed to do the very thing they say is impossible - tell their readers how to put - yet they do this and fill many pages with advice and instruction. Perhaps, though themselves lacking in faith as to the efficacy of such teaching, they think that a book on golf would seem somewhat deficient if the subject of putting were ignored and so seek to give the public what it wants, whether or not they believe the public will be benefitted thereby.

Whatever may be the opinions of these well-known men, however, makes no difference to me in my present purpose. I believe that any woman with sound faculties, moderate intelligence, and patience may be taught to put if she has the desire to learn and the willingness to work at it. Of course there are some women that pick up putting more easily than others, just as some have more aptitude in learning any game than their less-gifted sisters, and these are the ones that have in them the stuff of which exceptional putters are made, but one does not need to be an exceptional putter to play a very creditable game of golf. There are some sports, such as shooting, for example, that seem to require some special faculty that is difficult to cultivate if one is not born with it, but putting demands only ordinary application and a great deal of practice.

There are two qualities that a woman who wishes to put well must make up her mind to cultivate at the start, concentration and self-confidence. It is a curious fact that players, after having gone through all the necessary preliminary motions, allow their attention to wander when they are just about to hit the ball. It is not that they actually begin thinking of something else, but that they "let up" just at the crucial moment and therefore make a weak, futile shot. That this is true in putting more than in any other stroke in the game is due to the fact that the put is made slowly and deliberately, and that it requires a distinct effort to keep the attention absolutely fixed from the taking of the stance to the end of the follow through.

Probably it would not be necessary to make a particular point of self-confidence if it were not for the fact that there has been so much silly talk about the strange and peculiar difficulties of putting that the average player is in the state of mind of a child who has been sent to bed alone, and who is afraid of the dark; she is constantly dreading an indefinable something. It does not make a vital difference if the player's hands are a few inches higher or lower on the shaft of the club, or if her left foot is a little nearer to, or farther from, the ball than usual, but the spirit in which she undertakes to roll the ball into the hole will make all the difference between its getting there or not. The woman who says to herself, "I am going to make this put," will probably do so, whereas the woman who says, "Oh, dear, I shall never be able to do this," has practically failed already.

Do not think that I mean to say that it is easy to become a good putter. It is not. The principles of putting are simple enough and one can readily learn all the theory of it in a very short time, but to become anywhere near perfect in execution takes practice and care and care and practice until one's patience is stretched almost to the breaking point. However, although perfection can never be attained, a sufficient degree of skill and accuracy may be reached by any one who desires it strongly enough.

There is an encouraging thought that should cheer the player while she is faithfully practicing putting, and that is the fact that she is meanwhile laying a sure foundation on which to build up her other strokes. The habits of close attention, keeping the eye on the ball, firmness of grip, and accuracy of swing and follow-through will become a part of her golfing self and will make the subsequent, more complex strokes easy additions to the structure of her game.