The right stance comes readily to the golfer once he knows the game, but it does not present itself without being sought. It is seldom a gift, and it can rarely be left to look entirely after itself. It has to be studied, and the knowledge acquired during the course of education has to be exercised for every shot. Some players stand with their feet so far apart, and others with their feet so close together, that they cannot possibly distribute their weight evenly. Stance is a matter of great importance, and I recommend the aspirant to success to pay the closest attention to it.

Amongst beginners, the most common fault is topping. That is curious, because, to the person who has come to be capable of playing a good game, intentional topping is one of the most difficult feats in the realm of golf. As it is valueless, nobody endeavours to cultivate it, but, in capricious moments, I have tried to accomplish it consistently, and have concluded the trials in a state of wonderment at the beginner's capacity for it. I am saying this in no spirit of exaltation, and with no desire to mock the victim of an attack of unintentional topping; I am merely trying to induce him to believe that it is the easiest disease in the world to expel from the system for the simple reason that it is the hardest to retain. There is very little space at which to hit in order to come down on top of a ball. That the novice should repeatedly light on that small area is one of the mysteries of the game.

Topping is nearly always caused by either straightening the body, and therefore lifting the head at the instant of impact, or hugging the arms up towards the chest as the club nears the ball. Swaying to the right and failing to recover during the downward swing will also promote topping, but the same fault will produce nearly every other affliction to which the golfing race is susceptible, so that its ravages cannot be discussed under this heading alone. What often happens is that the player takes the club back properly and still tops - through either lifting his head or jerking his arms up as the club meets the ball. In the latter case, he has usually been attacked by a sudden apprehension that there is no room for the implement to go through to the finish of the stroke. He thinks that he is going to hit the ground a long way behind the ball, and makes a desperate effort to put things right. The almost inevitable issue is a topped shot. If, having addressed the ball, he will focus his attention on the swing, he need have little fear as to the club finding all the space that it wants for its work. It is when he tries to alter its course that he comes to grief. Lifting the head may be due to anxiety to see the result of the stroke, or to an involuntary movement for which the player cannot account. That is to say, he perhaps straightens his posture while still keeping his eye fixed on the spot which the ball is leaving. He may not even know that his body (and with it his head) has risen an inch or so. Assiduous practice alone will master this fault, and I would recommend the unhappy victim to engage in the task in company with that device which helped so much to make Colonel Quill a scratch player at the age of fifty-six. It is surprising how the thing induces you to keep your head down. It is the best cure for topping that I know.

Slicing is the most unprofitable vice in the game. A crooked shot that goes a considerable distance is not wholly awful; there is a silver lining to the cloud, to which the player draws attention by remarking to his opponent: - " It went a deuce of a long way, anyhow.' The worst of the sliced ball is that it seldom travels very far. As a rule it is caused by swaying the body to the right during the upward swing (that is to say, not turning at the hips), or by perpetrating at the top of the swing, when the hips have screwed up properly, the common error of beginning to unwind at the hips before starting the club on its return journey. Assuming that the golfer knows how to swing, this premature movement of the body is nearly always the cause of slicing. It results in the arms being thrown forward, whereupon the face of the instrument cuts across the ball and produces the slice. The remedy is to determine that the club-head shall always lead, and to aim at the beginning of the downward swing at a point slightly behind the player. It is a good tip to take up a position close to a tree (although not sufficiently near to hit it) so that the timber is to the right of you and a few inches in the rear of the line which you are occupying. Then, turning the hips correctly to the top of the swing, try to imagine that you want to hit that tree as the club comes down. As previously explained it is necessary for an intentional slice to give the body a slight turn before the start of the downward swing (at least, that is how I secure the effect); in just the same way is the slice provoked when you are not standing for it, and do not want it. When playing for a straight shot, the club should begin to descend before the body changes from its top-of-the-swing position, save in one respect. As the club starts to return, the left hip may be pushed slightly towards the hole - not unscrewed, but urged an inch or two sideways so as to facilitate the unwinding of the frame which follows immediately. For the rest, the arms should follow the club as it comes down, and the body should follow the arms as they come round. If you aim behind at the outset, the body will not often turn first.

Pulling is a curious phase of the game. In certain circumstances a little of it is excellent because it goes such a long way, or rather makes the ball go such a long way. The veriest trifle more than the desired quantum of pull, however, often spells disaster. Ten or twelve years ago, the natural sheer was more common than the natural puller; nowadays, the latter predominates, and, indeed, almost fills the golfing universe. As a consequence, the ugly hook which sends the ball off the course to the left is perhaps the most frequent of faults; for, in the manner of its execution, it is not greatly different from the skilful pull. It is often caused by a failure to turn the left wrist at the beginning of the upward swing so that the knuckles are visible, if you turn your head to look for them, instead of being so far over the club as to be out of sight Take an iron club three-quarters of the way up; stop in the position thus obtained, and then examine your left hand. If it is so turned away from you that you can see only one or two of the knuckles, it is wrong. The lot ought to be visible because the left wrist ought to be under the shaft - not pointing skywards.