THE RULES OF BILLIARDS

AT the risk of being considered somewhat wearisome, we must again call attention to the want of some authorised set of rules to regulate the game of billiards that would carry sufficient weight with them to overrule all opposition. We referred to the same subject in October last, when we little thought that our supposed case would so soon nearly happen in an important match for money. "We then supposed that two good players, A and B, were playing a game of 100 up for a large sum of money, and the score stands 99 all. It is A's turn to play, and he is angled, say, in one of the bottom pockets, so that he cannot play at either of the other balls direct. There is also, say, an easy losing hazard with his opponent's ball into a pocket off the red. If A is an honourable player, and has no wish to take advantage of the want of caution with which the rules have been drawn up, he will of course play to strike the balls, and, if possible, score by hitting a cushion first. Suppose, however, A is not an honourable player, or suppose the extremely improbable case of A absolutely getting confused, and that he plays with the wrong ball, and makes a losing hazard with B's ball off the red into a pocket, what is the penalty? The old rule on this point is clear. The stroke does not count, but the balls are broken and the opponent plays on. Or, in other words, the rules of the game allow A, by a gross irregularity-which, bear in mind, constantly really occurs-accidentally to, in all probability, win the game, when, had he not committed this irregularity, the odds were at least 10 to 1 against him. B, should the balls be broken, would be forced to play at the red from baulk, as the score stood 99 all, with his opponent in hand: and all billiard players know what a poor chance of winning the game there would be for him under these circumstances.

Now this supposed case almost happened in the finish of the match for Cook's late handicap at the Guildhall Tavern, when Hunt and Kilkenny were left in at the finish. The former of these players had reached 999; the latter scored his last point from a miss for safety by Kilkenny, who, by means of a stroke in which he judged of the strength of the table to a marvellous nicety, left the balls perfectly safe. Had Hunt under these circumstances played with the wrong ball, and put in the red, how utterly inadequate would have been the penalty! Indeed, he would have made certain of the game. Now it may be urged, and has been, that any one playing with the wrong ball under these circumstances, would simply be refused admission to any billiard room again; nor if a professional made such a mistake, would any other professional ever play with him again. It has been remarked, too, that if rules are to be drawn up to meet every case, we may as well have one forbidding the non-striker hitting his opponent over the head with his cue while in the act of striking.

Those who reason in this fashion should, however, bear in mind that the rule does exist-that mistakes do occur constantly in games between beginners. Their argument is tantamount to saying that" no rule in connection with the point of playing with the wrong ball is necessary at all. Playing with the wrong ball is cheating, and the offending party should be kicked out of the room. "e, on the other hand, maintain that a rule is, first, necessary; secondly, it is of the utmost importance that the penalty should be such that the player should in no way, or under any circumstances, be allowed to profit by his own act of gross carelessness. Such a penalty could easily be imposed; but, as we have before mentioned, the difficulty is to find any authority to which billiard players would submit. It would, we imagine, be quite impossible to get the professionals to agree among themselves. Equally so with sporting journals. Artemus Ward hit upon the brilliant idea of a corps composed exclusively of officers in order to avoid jealousy; but in the committee we are imagining, each one would insist on ranking as Commander-in-Chief, or would instantly withdraw. Perhaps the best chance of having the rules settled finally would be for all to agree to some authority quite outside the billiard world altogether. Let, say, the editors of the Tablet and the Record represent the press, and Joe Sadler and Jem Mace the professionals; such a committee would necessarily be impartial, and no one connected with billiards would feel personally injured by not being on it.