After describing the manner in which the cue was held in his day and generation, an old author proceeds to give the following description of the method of manipulating the "mace":— "The action of the mace is far more simple. Previous to the act of striking, its broad extremity is to be adapted, very accurately to the centre of the ball; and the stick being then carried up even with the right shoulder, the instrument and the ball are to be, at once, pushed onwards, by the same effort and without any sudden impulsive force. This should be particularly attended to, for if the ball be struck, rather than pushed, onwards, not only is the stroke (usually) considered foul, but the imparted motion will be lees correct, and there will, moreover, be a danger of breaking the instrument."
From this it is evident that with the mace every stroke was what would now be considered a "foul," and we feel sure our readers will be interested in the following contemporaneous description of this instrument, penned at a time when it was in daily use: "The mace consists of a long, slender rod, with a thick piece of mahogany or other wood affixed to its extremity, and adapted to it in such an angle, as to rest flat on the table while the stick is held up to the shoulder in the act of striking. The under side of this is flat and smooth, in order that it may move with facility over the cloth, the upper is concave, and the end to be opposed to the ball is plain and broad."
Strange things happen at pool games, especially when "doubles" are attempted. A recent number of "Billiard Times" contained an account of an old-time performer who doubled the spotted red back into a baulk pocket thirty times in succession, a wonderful feat even when allowance is made for very easy pockets, dead, but true cushions, and, almost certainly, a smaller table than our standard. Nothing like this has ever been done in modern times, and as pyramids and other pool games are not now favoured by professional exponents, records in the fine art of "doubling" a ball are not likely to be made.
This is rather a pity, as a really clever "double" is one of the most scientific strokes on a billiard table, and even the simplest is by no means easy. And at pool games the stroke is decidedly useful and much more reliable than is often thought possible. The writer was once playing pyramids with a fine amateur player— one of the greatest living authorities on the game—and that gentleman made no less than five doubles in succession, all played for and calculated with exquisite nicety on a standard table.
The writer was inclined to regard this as a record, and still considers it as such for an individual player. But on glancing through the Badminton "Billiards," the following extraordinary account of consecutive "doubles" attracted his attention, and the incident is so remarkable that but for the unquestionable authenticity of the source from which it is quoted, many who have played pool all their lives would be inclined to question the story, which reads as follows:—
"Three amateurs were playing three-pool. Red opened by doubling white into the right-hand bottom pocket. Yellow avenged white by doing exactly the same to red, and white made matters even by treating yellow to a precisely identical shot. Strange to say, red with his second shot holed white just as before— four consecutive doubles into the same pocket—and though yellow spoiled the average by only doubling red into the right-hand middle pocket, white made things all square and yellow disappeared into the original pocket. Thus six consecutive doubles were made, five of them into one pocket." What are the odds against such a performance?
Before entering a billiard room, wait outside to hear the flick of the balls, and then go in.
When wishing to leave, wait until the stroke has been played before doing so.
Some amusing accounts of the style in which Frank Ives used to "practise" have been placed on record at various times. John A. Hendrick once said that: "One day Poggenburg went into Ives's place and said— 'Come on, Frank, I want to get a little practice.' Well, they selected their cues and banked, Ives winning. Ives started in, and Poggenburg lighted a cigar. Poggenburg puffed away, and Ives tickled the ivories. Then Poggenburg lighted another cigar, and then another. Then he got tired of holding the cue, and rested it against the chair. Finally Ives said: 'Well, I'm tired, Poggy. Guess you have had enough practice?' Ives had run 700 points." "I had a worse experience than that," said another gentleman. "One day Ives walked into my place and asked me if I didn't want to play a little game? I said: 'Oh, all right,' and we banked. Frank won. Well, that boy started in, and quite a number of people gathered around. Friends came up and we discussed politics and other things. I was called out of the office a number of times to see people on business, but every time I came back Frank was playing along as natural as life. I said: 'Don't mind me,' and Frank just grinned in his saucy way and kept on. I had some business to transact down town, and went out and jumped on a passing car. When I got back Ives was still at it. Well, when he stopped he had made a run of 1,300, or more. I think it was 1,350, to be exact."
One of the heroes who fought under Wellington, and afterwards wrote an entertaining volume entitled: "A Hussar's Life on Service," makes the following interesting reference to billiards as he saw it while on service: "In Arragon, and the country where Mina's enterprises kept up the spirit of hostility, the French always dreaded a snare, and, on taking possession of a Spanish town, ordered all the windows to be closed. One of their moving columns, passing through Tafiala, were bivouacked in the Piaca, while the French, on the alert against treachery and surprise, had sentries watching the closed windows. Then the curiosity of an old woman, who kept a billiard table in a house facing one side of the small square, offered an example of one of the narrowest escapes I ever recollect to have seen. The good old woman, perhaps anxious to earn,an honest penny by the officers trying their skill with her cues and balls, slowly opened one of the wooden doors leading into the balcony. Two sentries, without further notice, instantly fired, and the balls passed through the wood on each side of her person into the opposite wall of the room in such a direction that it was afterwards impossible to place her but in one cramped position for the two shots to pass her person harmless."
Although Josh. Billings made a classical allusion to billiards, it does not appear that the subject attracted M.ark Twain to any appreciable extent. So far as our acquaintance with his published writings goes, we are unable to trace a single reference to the game, but in a speech he delivered at New York on the occasion of the opening of a billiard tournament, the great humourist said:
"Once when I was an under-paid reporter in Virginia City, a stranger came and opened a billiard parlour. I went to see him, and he proposed a game, to which I agreed. "Before we begin," he said, "just knock the balls around a little so that I can get your gait." I did so for a while, and then he said, "I will be perfectly fair with you; I'll play you left-handed." I felt hurt, for he was cross-eyed, freckled, and had red hair, so I determined to teach him a lesson for his audacity. He won first shot and ran clean out, taking my half-dollar, and all I got was the opportunity to chalk my cue. "If you can play like that with your left hand," I said, "I'd like to see you play with your right." "I can't," was the prompt reply, "I'm left-handed."