The San Francisco call., 1904-06-26

are some excellent French and Belgian
players; from them their compatriots
will gradually learn higher ideals. The
Frenchman is young in the game. As
the right conception OF the game grows
upon them they will also learn to keep
the balls lower. I suppose IT is the con-
tinental sky. tits so blue, so beautiful:
Il naturally attracts one. Anyhow the
fact remains that most tennis players
on the Continent. whether English or
foreign, have a tendency to aim the
ball direct at heaven. At an English
club in Switzerland there existed in my
day young Englishman who was real
ly a wonderful player. To get the ball
past him was almost an impossibility.
1t was his return that was weak. He
only had one stroke; the ball went a
hundred feet or so into the air and de-
scended in his opponents court. The
other man would stand watching IL. a
little speck in the heavens, growing
gradually bigger and bigger as it near
ed the earth. New comers would chat
ter to~him. thinking he had detected
balloon or an eagle. He would wave
them aside, explain to them that he
would talk to them later. after the ar
rival Of the ball. 1t would fall with
a thud at his feet, rise another twenty
yards or so and again descend. When
1t was at the proper height he would
hit it back over the net and the next
moment it would be mounting the sky
again. At tournaments I have seen
that young man. with tears in his eyes,
pleading to be given an umpire. Every
umpire had fed. They hid behind trees,
borrowed silk hats and umbrellas and
pretended they were visitors-any de-
vice, however mean, to avoid the task
of umpiring for that young man. Pro-
vided his opponent did not go TO sleep
or get cramp, one game might last all
day.
Any one could return his balls: but,
as have said, to get ball past him
was almost an impossibility. He in
variably won. The other man, after an
hour or so, would get mad and try to
lose. 1t was his only chance of dinner.
1t is a pretty sight generally speaking,
a tennis ground abroad. The women
pay more attention to their costumes
than do our lady players; the men are
usually In spotIess white. The ground
is often charmingly situated, the club
house picturesque; there Is always
laughter and merriment. The play may
not be so good TO watch, but the pic
ture is delightful I accompanied a
man a little while ago to his club on
the outskirts Of Brussels. The ground
was bordered by a wood on one side
and surrounded on the other three by
petites fermes-aIlotments, as we
should call them in England worked
by the peasants themselves. It was a
glorious spring afternoon. The courts
were crowded. The red earth and the
green grass formed a background
against which the women in their new
Partisan toilets, under their bright par
asols, stood out like wondrous bouquets
of moving flowers. The whole atuos-
phere was delightful mingling Of idle
gayety, Irritation and graceful SEN
suousness. A modern Vatican would
have seized upon the scene with avidity.
lust beyond-separated by the al
most invisible wire fencing-a group OF
peasants were working in their field.
An old woman and a young girl, with
ropes about their shoulders, were draw
ing harrow guided by a withered old
scarecrow Of a man. They paused for
a moment at the wire fencing and look
ed through. 1t was an odd contrast;
the two worlds divided by that wire
fencing-so slight, almost invisible. The
girl swept the sweat from her face
with her hand; the woman pushed back
her gray locks underneath the hand
kerchiefs knotted about her head, the
old man Strengthened himself with
some difficulty. So they stood. for per-
haps a minute, gazing with quiet, pas
sionless faces through that slight fenc-
Ing. that push from their work-hard-
ened hands might have leveled. Was
there any thought, I wonder, passing
through their brains? The young girl?
she was a handsome creature in spite
Of her dishguring garments. The
woman?-it was a wonderfully fine
face, clear, calm eyes, deep set under
a square, broad brow. The <Vithered
old scarecrow?-ever sowing the seed
in the spring OF the fruit that others
shall eat. The old man bent again over
the guiding ropes; gave a word. The
team moved forward up the hill It Is
Anatole France. I think. who says So
ciety is based upon the patience OF the
poor.