THAT the professional golfer's life is not exactly one long siesta upon a bed of roses I have attempted to show in the previous chapters, and in saying that I must plead it as an excuse for touching upon the subject of £ s. d. Like other men, the professor of golf must live, and although in dealing with the question of a sufficient remuneration there are many and complex interests to consider, I think it will be readily admitted that every man is worthy of his hire.

To anyone not conversant with the inner workings of the kingdom of golf the lot of the club professional no doubt appears to be an enviable one. In the sporting and the daily papers his name is to be noticed as forming one of the many competitors at the Championships, taking a part in tournaments, in matches, or in exhibition games; but nevertheless the remuneration of professionals, taken as a body, is scarcely calculated upon a sufficiently liberal scale.

When the boom in golf was beginning, I am willing to admit the professional had very little to complain of on the score of remuneration, whether in his club engagements or in other directions. Provided he was a good man, he practically found himself in a position to fix his own terms, and he could coin money rapidly in first-class company.

Unfortunately, this happy position of affairs did not last long, for the rapidity with which money could be made had its natural result, and recruits commenced to pour into the professional ranks. Attracted by the El Dorado, men forsook other trades in ever-increasing numbers, and at last the supply reached, and then exceeded, the demand.

These men were not always of the very best class, I should like it to be understood, but they were sufficiently expert in the game to secure and hold positions as professionals to the ordinary clubs. Discovering, as they thought, that money was to be made quickly, they decided that they had mistaken their vocation in life, and that golf would prove the royal road to riches.

After this it was only to be expected that matters, in a financial sense, did not run too smoothly. Competition told its usual tale, and at last the wages of the professionals were reduced.

In connection with these wages, the general reader must not accept as stern realities all the fairy tales he may read about what is being paid to one man or the other. Were I so disposed, I could prove the truth of my assertion by the quotation of actual figures paid by clubs, but I will content myself by simply suggesting that, taking a general view of the case, the wages paid are far too low. I am not inclined to be at all extravagant in my ideas as to what means would be best calculated to meet the needs of the case, but I think it would only be reasonable if, so far as club engagements are concerned, no professionals were paid less than £1 per week, with, of course, liberty to add as much as possible to that sum by means of matches, tournaments, and so on.

As for this latter proposition, it is quite possible some club officials may have thought their professional was making too much money in this way, and therefore decided that his wages must be reduced. But if this were their idea, it was quite an erroneous one, as I shall explain fully a little later on. Where a professional is concerned, a club engagement, as I have said, is entered upon for a fixed weekly wage, and with the understanding that he shall be allowed to take part in various competitions. That arrangement may sound very well to the uninitiated, but the actual position, I regret to say, is this: That unless a professional player combines the manufacture of golfing requisites with his art, he finds it quite impossible to make any-great profit out of the game; indeed, he may make very little. Some, who are simply players, can make but a bare living wage even now, and as time goes on their earnings will become smaller and beautifully less, until they get very near the vanishing point.

What sum it is possible to make outside the standing wage is quite an unknown quantity. Many things may combine to upset a man's form, and a professional possesses very little chance of putting by for a rainy day, unless he is fortunate enough to be in the very first flight of players.

The duties of a professional are to supervise the links and see that they are kept up properly, and he must be on the spot when required to give lessons or play a round if necessary. Now I will ask this one simple question: is a sum of £1 per week too much to pay for this? I hardly think so.