I believe the original story about putting for one's living comes from North Berwick, when David Grant -himself a wonder with a putter-turned round on some one who was knocking the ball into the hole from all parts of the green and said, 'If ye had tae keep a wife an' six bairns ye widna putt like that.'

But I doubt if having to putt well in order to live respectably makes much difference. It is the one department of the game where the handicap man can be as efficient as the plus man. I remember well when Mr. Walter Travis won the Amateur Championship at Sandwich, beating Mr. Blackwell in the final. I don't suppose more extraordinary putting has ever been seen in a competition which lasted so long. On the Maiden green in the afternoon Mr. Travis missed a short one. Perhaps it may have been about two yards, and one very agitated spectator exclaimed, 'Thank God, he is not infallible.' The Americans last year by the aid of Mr. Gardner were very near repeating Mr. Travis's win, but I am patriotic enough to believe that, although they have now some very fine players, until they send across another golfer like Mr. Travis who can putt well for a week, they will not quite succeed in winning our Amateur Championship.

In match play there is nothing more disconcerting than your opponent holing putts from yards off, especially if this sort of thing lasts for long. If the Amateur event were a seventy-two hole affair of score play, like the Open, I should then think that America, with players of the class of Messrs. Evans, Jones, and Ouimet, would have a wonderful chance.

According to Harry Vardon, American green-keepers are not cutting the greens so close as we do on this side. There is water laid on at most of their courses, and so they have what would be termed slow greens. Naturally these are easier to putt on than fast ones. These slow greens are not going to be good for American golfers in their invasions of our courses, as coming off slow greens on to fast ones is the very deuce ; but of course in America there has to be a good thick bottom on the putting greens for fear of their being burned up by the heat. There is nothing that scares a good putter more than seaside greens that have lost all trace of their natural colour, where you can see the hole but no line to it, and the ground is polished with the sliding of those who have gone before.

St. Andrews I find the best test of putting, for by the time you have played your second or third round the green has become so slippery that it takes a brave man all his courage to go up and hit a three-yard putt firmly enough to give the back of the hole a chance: and yet this has to be done to keep the ball on the line. I know of only one good putter who drops the ball into the hole: most good putters give the back of the hole a chance.

If there is a conversation about good putters and Abe Mitchell is there, he will have it that hardly any one is a better putter than I am. It is very nice of him to say this, as it gives me lots more confidence than I should otherwise have. I remember that once Vardon, Taylor, Braid, and I were journeying from Prestwick, where Vardon had just won the 1914 Championship, to Turnberry. I was accounting to Taylor for my failure in the Championship. Putting had been my trouble. I really had been bad, as a matter of fact. I used my mid-iron to putt with for most of the last round. Taylor, always sympathetic, said, 'But you are one of the best putters in the world.' I half believed him, and putted well all that day at Turnberry. Confidence in oneself has a great deal to do with successful putting.

I started to swing a golf club when I was nine years of age, but it was not until I went to the Timperley Golf Club, eleven years afterwards, that I began to learn how to hit the ball with a putter. Sometimes I could knock the ball into the hole after a fashion with a cleek, but I had no method. Perhaps that still may be said of me. But really I did practise putting. When I went to Timperley I followed Tom Simpson, who left a few old heads amongst other rubbish there. One of the heads was an ordinary cleek which must have had at least a dozen shafts in it, judging from the look of the hose. Anyhow, my clubmaker put in another and made the head more upright, and that has been my putter ever since. I have tried a few real putters in the meantime, but I always fall back on the converted cleek. It's a funny thing about my putting, but the quicker I putt the better I can hole them. When my courage is gone, I am looking at the line longer than usual and the actual stroke is slower. But that's only my own particular method: I would not say it would necessarily suit other people. If you are not a 'first sighter 'take your time, but I don't see why you should look at the line from both sides of the hole. There may be method in this madness, but it should not be part of your regular game. You should be able to see everything by looking from the ball to the hole. I think this is necessary, and yet how often do you see the average golfer neglect it. I suppose that he thinks his handicap does not warrant this procedure ; but every one should have a look at his putt, if only because he will very likely have to wait on the next tee.

Putting can be learned just like everything else, and it all depends upon the pupil, and of course upon his instructor, how well he learns. We hear of putting being an inspiration, that a putter must be born and not made, and various other excuses for bad putters. Inspired putting occurs on one of those days when you win your match about the twelfth hole and, after you have finished, your partner reckons up that you have only had twenty-two shots with your putter. One putt on each of the fourteen greens and two putts on each of the other four was the record at Timperley when I was there, but I didn't do it.

In order to be a consistently good putter a player must have a fine touch. This may be a gift and would, I suppose, be classed among the attributes of the born putter. I quite admit that if you are heavierhanded than another man, he has the making of a better putter than you. A good instance of this is the case of Braid and Ray. Ray has the finer touch and is rated the best putter of the two. And yet for a time Braid was one of the best putters in the country. But he had to practise a lot in order to get the confidence to make him so. At one time he had a bad habit of moving his body. I call it a bad habit, as I did the self-same thing when I was learning to putt. And yet again the late Tom Ball was a great putter who moved his body when putting. But Tom would have been a good putter in whatever way he did it, as he had naturally a nice touch and had also great courage. He was dead game and always gave the hole a chance. I have a great admiration for Taylor as a putter. He is not one of those opponents who one day hole them all over the green and the next day miss a few short ones. You always know just what he is going to do, as he is the most consistent two-per-green putter in the paid ranks. With the long ones he puts the ball a yard away from the hole, and he seldom misses the short one. Now and again he may hole a six-yarder, but it has to be an easy one and then you expect it, so that it is not such a shock. The fellow who worries you is he who gets round in thirty-six putts, but on six greens he takes three putts and on six he has only one. There is nothing more annoying than, after you have had a look at your opponent's putt and feel glad it isn't yours, to find him hole it. Your shorter one wants a bit of holing after that happens.