Much has been written about the etiquette of the billiard room, but something remains to be set down. It is not necessary to refer to obvious vulgarisms as amongst the things to be deprecated, but there are certain halfconscious slips and lapses to which a passing word may, perhaps, be usefully devoted.
Possibly one reason why billiards is not played, in some quarters, with due considerateness either on the part of the players towards each other, of the players towards the spectators, or of the spectators towards the players, is that it has not had an altogether good bringing up. It is still suffering to some extent from its antecedents, although now admitted to be not only the king of games but a game for kings.
"Manners makyth man" said William of Wykeham, and to this motto someone has added: "and the want of them the fellow." Passing strange it is—and yet how true— that a stranger watching two men, who may never have met before, commencing a game of billiards, knows within two minutes the relative claims of each contestant to the good old Norman name of "gentleman." And yet there may not seem to be on the surface any marked difference between the pair. The one is as well dressed as the other; his clothes are as carefully pressed; his linen, boots, and neck-wear are as they should be. Where, then, is the distinction?
The question should rather be: Where does the distinction not appear? It is, indeed, observable at every few strokes and may be summed up by one central fact. He is obsessed from first to last with the idea of winning the game, and if he loses, even to a better player, he will feel annoyed, and possibly show it. The natural gentleman approaches the game from a different standpoint. If the stronger player he would, as he is human, desire to win, but this is not with him the begin-all and the end-all of the game. His main object is an hour's quiet and sustained enjoyment of a favourite pastime. And under what circumstances can enjoyment be found that is comparable with that obtainable from a game of billiards played amid suitable surroundings. Soft to the tread is the thick carpet surround; seductive is the well-lighted playing surface; restful are the environing shadows; musical is the gentle click of the obedient balls; grateful are the silence, the refinement, the artistry of it all.
The player "out to win" sometimes discloses what can only be termed his selfishness before his cue has so much as touched a ball. "Any choice?" queries his courteous opponent, to which he replies that, if it is all the same to his opponent, he prefers so-and-so. Which, of course, he gets; and so far so good. But if, instead of at once giving reciprocal choice of opening stroke to his opponent he waits to be consulted on that point also, it is not good at all.
The game proceeds, and, despite his opening opportunities, the balls have run into the keeping of his opponent, who is putting together a nice little break. Presently he sees that the next stroke will find him, where he is now standing, in his opponent's line of aim. But he does not move, as he is secretly cherishing the hope that his opponent may be one of the sensitive kind and foozle the stroke if his eye should be attracted by the silent figure standing in the not distant perspective. Here, again, he is wrong.
We are assuming a game played without the assistance of a marker, and under these circumstances it is obviously the duty, as it should be the pleasure, of each player to "field" for the other. But so wrapped up in his own chances is Player No. 2, and so easily dislocated in his manners, that, upon missing an easy stroke and leaving a good thing on he may, as likely as not, drop into a seat and stop there for some time, even though his opponent may have to walk to a baulk pocket for the red or half round the room for the rest.
There is, indeed, nothing that so eloquently bespeaks the gentleman as his manner of dealing with annoying incidents.
We have seen a gentleman grossly abused and the only sign by which he indicated that he had so much as heard the offensive words was a slightly heightened colour.
He ignored the vulgar personality that he had accidentally come across as though it had not had existence. Imagine a gentleman who has himself in hand to this extent being goaded out of his good manners by an untoward happening at the billiard table or by the losing of a game to a stronger opponent. The thing is inconceivable.
And here a point arises that may bear to be accentuated.
It is usually the inferior player who fumes and frets about defeat, and yet, what is there to fume and fret about?
Should not such a player rather congratulate himself that he has had the opportunity of meeting more than his match and possibly of learning something from him? Should he not feel that he has been favoured by being granted the game at all, and would not a hearty word of appreciation and an expression of regret at not having put up a better game beseem him better than a more or less sullen acceptance of the situation?
In billiards, as in other games, the lookers-on see the most, and this applies not only to the scoring opportunities that are ignored by the players but to the personal deportment by which they are characterized. The minds of these spectators are fallow. They are neither elevated by success nor depressed by ill-luck. And whilst they mentally condemn neglect of the claims of courtesy on the part of either contestant they recognise with a pleasure that is reflected in their countenances the frank and manly attitude of the player who knows how to accept ill-luck with a smile and defeat as merely the passing mood of the hour.