sure that all mark-boats are in their places before the starting signal is given. I once knew a race committee—but there, I won't tell tales out of school.
I hope it will not be held as presumptuous on my part if I ask the race committees to treat yachting reporters with courtesy. They are sometimes seasick; they generally would feel much happier ashore. They may sometimes appear too eager and zealous for information; but their motive is good, they are anxious to "file early copy" and thus avoid their editor's wrath. The members of the club like to see good reports of their races in the public press, and this end is rarely achieved by insulting or snubbing a newspaper man, who after all is a human being, if not of such high degree as a haughty member of a race committee. Besides, the newspaper man dissembles his wrath, bides his time; and when his opportunity arrives doesn't he just roast his insulter?
Members of race committees should keep their eyes open all the time. They should try to become familiar with the general appearance of each competing yacht so that she may be identified without the aid of her number. They should be quick to detect any breach of the rules and should unhesitatingly punish offenders. Punctuality with the gun is a cardinal virtue, and strict impartiality is another. In this country, up to 1898, the decision of the race committee has always been final, there hav-
