was made in the _Discovery_, the Commander, Captain Scott, who is a keen golfer, took some clubs down there with him, and in some leisure moments “had a knock,” by way of reminding him of the old links at home, and of seeing what the sensation of South Polar golf was like. It is said that forged iron has a peculiarly cold and numbing touch in the frozen south. It is the same game everywhere, and the law is always taken from Fifeshire; but the conditions and makeshifts are sometimes peculiar. We have said how at the Cape they putt on gritty earth that smacks of diamonds, how in China there are graves for bunkers, and how across the Channel, Napoleon’s trenches serve for the same purpose. Boulogne, after all, is only in the nature of a corollary to our courses at Walton Heath and Huntercombe, for hereabouts the golfers play where the legions of mighty Cæsar were encamped, and the stables and the kitchens that Cæsar made, huge pits deep in the earth, are in the line of play, and things are so arranged that they constitute fine traps for erring balls, and offer remunerative opportunities for skill with iron clubs in playing out of them. And yet, if one must play bad shots, it is well that they should be played in the direction in which Cæsar dug, for these pits were made so long ago and are so deep that they are often beautifully turfed with soft springy stuff, which anywhere except in a pit would be a delight to play from, being so congenial to one’s iron. We must applaud the Romans in this matter. It is nearly a pleasure to go into their kitchens and stables; they were made so long ago and they are so green and nice. There is golf at Old Calabar on the West Coast of Africa, and there the putting “greens” are made of fine coal dust. So they are “blacks.” At Mexico and many other places they are merely “browns.” In Egypt, where there is much golf, they are often made of rolled and baked Nile mud.