burdened with any sense of the importance of the games. They had come overseas to measure speed, skill and stamina with their American cousins, and they looked forward to the trip and to the two days of competition as all in the nature of a lark.

This may serve to lay before the reader the changed attitude toward amateur sports, particularly lawn tennis, that has taken place within the last ten years in this country. Only those who were in close touch with the tennis tournaments of the late 'nineties and the intervening years prior to the World War will be able fully to appreciate the different atmosphere that now prevails. The game today, except at some of the aristocratic old clubs, the Sea Bright Lawn Tennis and Cricket Club, on the Jersey Coast, and the Meadow Club of Southampton, for example, is played largely to the accompaniment of the rustle of paper currency and the clink of coins. Efficiency has obtained a strangle hold and the national singles and doubles championships and the Davis Cup matches are conducted along somewhat the same lines as any great industrial business enterprise. Henry Ford, could he be induced to attend the National Singles tourney at Forest Hills, would thrill at the hum of efficiency to be heard on all sides. He would see a group of men earnestly, and with appalling efficiency, adding up columns of figures. He would see yet other slaves to the modern tennis efficiency counting and smoothing out and wrapping up piles and piles of greenbacks. More men would be taking care of the "by-products". Balls that had been used in tournament play would be segregated from the new white ones and put back into circulation again, being sold, at a reduction in price, to club members who were not so squeamish about using balls that had been used for a set or two. Over there, under the "official" marquee, (everything is "official" at Forest Hills during National Singles week), Mr. Ford would be shown grim, serious men poring over diagrams marked out on pieces of cardboard. These cards contain the plans of each court, its number and relative position in relation to every other court on the grounds; and the various linesmen are assigned their positions by a system of numbers.

And these linesmen, what a solemn crowd are they! An in

dividual suddenly marches with military precision from the shelter of the marquee, takes his position in the centre of the Stadium enclosure, holds out his hands commandingly, warningly, as a signal for "silence", and then announces, in staccato tones: "Linesmen out for the Tilden-Johnston match!" There they go, men bowed of head, plodding along on the stretch of greensward, with the gait of a "chain-gang", features set in glum lines. A smile, a word lightly spoken at such a time, might tend to disrupt "efficiency". The ball boys, beardless striplings, tender in years and rosy of cheek, yet also infected with the deadly virus of "efficiency", shag the balls with machinelike perfection. Each has been drilled for hours as to just the psychological moment when the ball is to be handed to the player; or rather, not handed, but bounced. There is a deadly etiquette about this; an etiquette founded, of course, upon efficiency. The boys are instructed to bounce the ball once upon the ground, and once only, when a player asks for it. And this bounce, the result of "quantity production", as Mr. Ford would delight to learn, must be just a certain height, so that the player does not have to reach or stretch for the ball.

Such is the machine-like basis upon which the game of lawn tennis is played today in our national championship tourneys. The wonder is that our players have any individuality left, any personality or "color". Boards of strategy gather under the official marquee at the close of play each evening and plan and plot for the next day's programme. And here is one of the occasions upon which "Commercialism" raises its head and makes its presence felt. The schedule committee goes into conference, and many are the suggestions offered as to the wisdom of staging such and such a match at such and such a time, on such and such a court. At times the argument grows heated, yet eventually it is all ironed out smoothly. If feasible, the wishes of the players are consulted as to the time and the scene of their matches, but the governing principle, the dominating force that finally decides who shall play whom, and when, is the "gate". I refer to that same "gate" that professional sports promoters have made notorious throughout the land. All the important matches are arranged with that single thought in view. "What match

will draw the biggest crowd, and at what particular hour will that crowd be most likely to be on hand?"

And now we approach the actual, underlying cause of this trend toward professionalism in tennis. Succinctly, and in good English, the United States Lawn Tennis Association, like Frankenstein, has raised and nurtured the monster that threatens to endanger, if not actually to destroy it. Seeing the commercial aspect increasing each year, hearing on all sides the talk of money, "returns on the investment," etc., ad nauseam, the idea began slowly, at first, to permeate the minds of some of the players. What idea? Why, the thought that the player himself might derive some financial benefit from a game in which he was the leading figure and the chief actor. At first this idea had small beginnings, modest expectations, and there was no thought of receiving direct compensation from tennis. One or two players of national reputation, champions or former champions, saw a way to capitalize their fame by entering the sporting goods business, with special reference to lawn tennis supplies. Maurice McLoughlin, of California, the famous "California Comet", essayed such a venture on the Pacific Coast, but he was frowned upon heavily by the National Association and retired from the field. That was back around 1915 or 1916, and there were isolated cases of other players attempting, in various ways, to get some financial return as a reward for their skill on the courts. But the U. S. L. T. A. kept these pioneers pretty well in hand for the next half dozen years, and then, with the rise of "Big Bill "Tilden to the national championship throne, in 1920, the situation began to assume serious phases.

Tilden, the dominating figure in the game the world over, was not to be lightly cast aside. Being the greatest drawing card in the courts, it was in the nature of things that he had to be handled diplomatically. The United States Lawn Tennis Association was in a quandary as the National Singles champion began to go further and further afield in taking liberties with the amateur rule, as laid down by the national governing body of the game. "Big Bill" was soon a regular contributor to newspapers and news syndicates and was credited with a handsome income as a result of his activities with pencil and paper, and at once

he had imitators. But none approached Tilden in the way of gleaning financial rewards. The heading over his articles, “By W. T. Tilden, 2nd, National Singles Champion", was the magnet that attracted the newspapers and syndicates.

Following a bitter battle between the U. S. L. T. A. and its supporters and Tilden and his sympathizers, a battle in which there threatened, at one period, to be an open split between the Eastern and Western sections of the national body, the amateur rule was amended so as to make it illegal for an amateur player to write current articles for the daily newspapers on tournaments in which he was a competitor, or to use his titles in the credit line over or under those articles. This naturally checked the activities of all the "player-writers", and within recent months that phase of the situation has become virtually a dead issue. But the United States Lawn Tennis Association had sown the wind, and was yet to reap the whirlwind. Tilden's activities had set other high ranking players to thinking in financial terms, and the spirit of unrest was abroad in the land. The situation was ripe for just what has happened, the entrance upon the scene of Charles C. Pyle, who has turned amateur tennis upside down.

He makes no pretence of cherishing amateurism or of honoring tradition. He is frankly out for the dollar, and because he saw the opportunity to reap a harvest by fostering professional lawn tennis, he did not hesitate to pour his golden stream into the "investment", confident that he would get it all back, and more. And present indications are that he will. All the world laughed up its sleeve when he announced that he was going to Europe to sign Mlle. Suzanne Lenglen, the greatest woman tennis player that the world has known, to a contract calling upon her to play professional tennis. Suzanne Lenglen is the greatest single "drawing card" in the game today. The master showman realized this, and he was determined to gain his ends. After several weeks of reports and counter reports, the cables flashed the news from Paris that Mlle. Lenglen had signed a contract to play professional tennis. Miss Mary K. Browne was the next to listen in a receptive mood to the promoter's financial offers, and she was followed by Vincent

Richards, the man upon whom the Davis Cup Committee of the U. S. L. T. A. was relying as the pivot man around whom Davis Cup teams of the future were to be built. Howard Kinsey and Harvey Snodgrass of California were the last to cast in their fortunes, and the "grand tour" commenced, with Madison Square Garden and a crowd of many thousands marking the opening.

Will professional lawn tennis yield sufficient financial returns for those concerned to make it a paying proposition, and is it here to stay? I have been asked that question hundreds of times within the last two months, and I would answer "No" and "Yes". "No", under the present system exhibition matches; and "Yes", with competitive tournaments, professional and open, for championship titles.

The promoter may, and probably will, earn a goodly percentage on his original investment, due to the fact that the present tour is a novelty and thousands of persons who never saw a tennis match before, and who care little for the game, will attend these exhibition matches. The answer to that is-Suzanne Lenglen. The most colorful player in the world, as well as the greatest player of her sex, she will draw such galleries as no one could hope to attract with any other player, man or woman. But a vital element is lacking in exhibition matches, no matter how brilliant the players or the play. There is nothing at stake, the players are "not going anywhere", and consequently when you have seen them in action once, you have seen all there is to see. But, with the world's open championship at stake, with the greatest of the amateurs pitted against the best of the professionals, then will interest be aroused and the breath of life blown into the game. Whether this shall come

to pass or not, is still problematic, but only through the medium of such competition will the professional game survive.