Very few caddies make good tees. The ball should be just perched on the sand so that none of the latter can be seen; the ball should seem to be sitting up clear of the ground, supported by nothing. That optical delusion gives you confidence to hit it well; the eye is not attracted by the presence of a setting. Often a player who wants a lower tee will give the top of the ball a knock and so push it into the sand. I honestly believe that many shots are spoilt in that way; you cannot always obtain in such circumstances the stroke that would be secured with the perfectly-poised ball. There are men who, at times, almost bunker themselves in the tee. The less sand that you have for the purpose, the richer will be the ultimate reward.

The reader who likes to take his golf in a spirit of light-hearted irresponsibility may come to the conclusion that in offering these hints I am reducing instruction to a very fine point. I can only assure him that the best players owe much of their success to their attention to small details, and that if his temperament be such that he cannot bother to hunt for a good stance when he is allowed a choice, or concern himself about the character of his tee, he will probably remain in possession of a handicap of more or less considerable proportions. Not that careful consideration of these matters will alone suffice to make him a good golfer (the game would be very easy if a perfect tee meant a perfect drive), but they will train him to be careful in his attitude towards the whole pursuit, and I am sure that nobody can fare well on the links without thinking hard all the while - reflecting on the cause of his wrong-doings and the best way of putting them right. Golf is a monument composed of small items - the very swing is made up of details, each important for the production of the desired end.

Apart from the matter of obtaining a comfortable stance, it frequently pays the golfer to consider from which side of the teeing-ground he shall drive. Yet how many players bother about such a point ? Very few. The majority select a spot somewhere near the middle of the space between the discs. Yet, if you have an out-of-bounds area on either the right or the left, it is surely a sound idea to make your tee as far as possible from that evil region. "Out of bounds" exercises a sort of magnetic influence on many an indifferent golfer; it seems to coax him to hit his ball into it. He knows that it is there; that is the whole secret of its power over him. He may help to remove himself from the zone of its influence by starting from a point as far from it as the limits of the teeing-ground will permit. If you are playing for an intentional slice, it is always best, I think, to tee up on the right-hand side of the starting-place, because you have then more room into which to aim. It is necessary to aim at an unseen point in the air; there is just one point, you feel, at which the wind should hold up the ball, and enter into the conspiracy with the slice to bring the object back to the course. You can see that point more clearly when you are playing out to it than when you are going almost straight at it. Similarly, for a pulled shot, it is desirable to begin on the left-hand side of the teeing-ground.

Personally, I recommend thin grips for all clubs. I tried thick grips for a short time; but did not get on at all well with what I called my "cricket bats." They were a desperate remedy that proved worse than the disease. Nor do I believe in the specially-shaped grips which are made to fit the fingers. At first blush, the idea of such a handle seems excellent. Why should the grip be round? Why should it not be of such a shape as to guide the hand to the proper position on the club? I have experimented with these devices, and my experience of them is that they succeed so effectually in their object that they render gripping far too easy. They so greatly facilitate the task that there is little about which to think, and, as a result, they encourage a vicelike hold. They are so simple to grasp that one instinctively grasps them tightly - much too tightly - with all the fingers. The ordinary round grip is less accommodating, and, as a consequence, it induces the player to consider just what he is doing. I am convinced that it is bad to have the shape of the handle so inviting to the fingers that they involuntarily grip it like grim death. And that is the drawback to various innovations that have made their appearance in connexion with golf-club handles.

From small and often unconsidered sources, great assistance is obtainable. For instance, man is lucky in his right to wear braces so long as he wear the right sort of braces. They should be trained by use to work in harmony with the swing of the player; they should become to all intents and purposes part of that swing. Then they will help it and control it. I would no more think of going out to play for a championship in a new pair of braces than of trying to do the four rounds on my head. I should not know how to swing. Nearly every professional of note has his braces that fit all his movements, and they are treasured possessions. They may not look very smart, but he would not exchange them for the most exquisite creation that could be brought to bear upon his shoulders. There is nothing worse than having to teach proper golfing manners to a new pair of braces. Some players prefer belts. The latter, I think, give the shoulders too much freedom, and encourage the fatal fault of overswinging. Braces are best, but they must be on friendly terms with their owner.

Whether you wear boots or shoes should be governed in a large degree by the extent to which you use your ankles when playing. I would certainly recommend a beginner to support the cult of shoe worship, because his early studies may well be directed towards the learning of how to screw the left ankle properly. And shoes will render the task easier. If, having mastered the knack, he finds his fancy turning lightly towards boots, I have not the smallest desire to dissuade him from effecting the change. Braid and Taylor always play in boots. Personally, I prefer shoes; I make a lot of use of my ankles, and like them free. In any case, very thick soles are bad. As the left foot twists from the joints of the big toe during the upward swing, the boot or shoe should be prepared to "give" a little. The foot should not be encased as though in a vice. If you cannot screw your left ankle into the proper position without pushing your heel out, it is possible that the sole of your boot or shoe is too substantial. There is not much "give" in a massive chunk of leather.

Collars are by no means unimportant details of dress. It is as well to have something round your neck for appearance's sake, but it is bad when that something stands two inches or more in height. I can assure the reader that most of the professionals have their collars specially made for them. They are an inch high. I mean, of course, that the collars are an inch high - not the professionals. Often one sees a golfer playing in neck-gear of enormous dimensions. As he takes the club back the chances are that the collar forces his head to one side, and the fatal habit of swaying is encouraged. The bottom of your neck has to screw with the body while the head remains still, and a high collar upsets the whole scheme.

I have nothing to say on the burning question of trousers versus knickerbockers, except that the latter facilitate that freedom of the ankle and leg which is so desirable. I have no particular pattern of tie to suggest; in fact, I am finished with the subject of clubs and clothes. I have not been hypercritical in compiling this chapter of hints. I have learnt from experience that each of the points herein-mentioned may be worth a stroke at some time or other. And a stroke often means the difference between winning a hole and only halving it.