Women's Golf

Looking insufferably bored, Glenna Collett saw her ball dip over a swell of grass and disappear into the tenth hole of the course of the St. Louis Country Club. Her father was a famous amateur bicycle rider. Her bust measurement is 36 inches. She had on a lemon sweater, buff skirt, tan hat. The public displayed some interest in these facts because, by virtue of that putt, she won for the second time the U. S. women's golf championship.

Other putts, of course, had contributed to this result, particularly some made by Edith Cummings, Mary K. Browne, Dorothy Campbell Kurd (late titleholder), Bernice Wall of Oskosh, and Alexa Stirling Fraser. It was by deadly putting that a certain Mrs. Letts of Illinois put out Mrs. Hurd. Miss Cumming's uncertainty with her littlest club was her only demonstrable inferiority to Miss Collett in a semi-final match so close that neither was at any time more than one up, but by that score Miss Collett won. Mrs. Fraser, as Alexa Stirling, three time national champion, long ago demonstrated that Atlanta, Ga., is the nation's most important hatchery of championship golfers, a fact recently iterated by Robert T. Jones and Watts Gunn. She knew, therefore, the importance of putting. Had it not been for a 70-footer on the first hole, and a 40-footer later on the same hole (played as the 19th), she might not have got past Louise Fordyce of Youngstown, Ohio, to play against Miss Collett.

On the day of the finals the greenskeeper, committeemen, stewards and various other people who pretended to be, and indeed may have been, officials of the St. Louis Country Club, stuck their heads out of doors and shook them emphatically. For the third day rain was falling. Ducks and drakes was the only game you could play on that course. Next day, though cloudy, was better. The sun and the gallery came doubtfully out. At the end of the morning round Miss Collett was four up. She played the first ten holes in the afternoon in even fours. On the tenth green, when that last putt scuttled out of sight like a round, obedient white mouse, the match ended and out of her eternal preoccupation, Miss Collett smiled vaguely at the shouting multitude. "Her height is 5 feet 5," reporters rushed off to scribble; "she weighs 125 pounds; she was born in New Haven on June 20, 1903; she has no superstitions."