The strain of playing a single “period” in a tournament match, in which the pony is required to make incessant twists, turns, sudden starts at speed, is continually being pulled up short, and is sent short bursts of hard galloping, takes far more out of the pony than does a race out of a racehorse, or an average day’s hunting out of the hunter. The marvel is, not that fast and well-bred ponies capable of doing this should command fancy prices, but that such should be obtainable at any figure. Under existing conditions, a small blood horse that looks like making a Polo Pony is neither more nor less than an accidental deviation from the normal. It is an accident that his height at five years does not exceed the regulation 14 hands 2 inches; it is an accident—unhappily, a rare one—that he has bone to carry weight; and before the trainer can make a Polo Pony of him he must be fast, handy, kind, and docile—another set of accidents; we might, indeed, almost call the first-rate Polo Pony a phenomenal chapter of accidents. For let us bear in mind that when we have found our 14 hands 2 inches endowed with the needful make and shape we have not by any means necessarily got our Polo Pony. Only the smallest percentage of the thousands of racehorses foaled annually prove good enough to pay their trainers’ bills; and when we reflect upon the nature of the work required on the polo ground, the sterling good qualities demanded of a pony for first-class Polo, we should indeed be sanguine did we look for high and uniform merit in the race of animals we hope to found upon a basis of pure blood! The clean thoroughbred, except in very rare instances, has not the power needful to enable him to stop quickly and turn sharply at the gallop. Speed he has, but he lacks the strong hind-quarters essential to carry 12 or 13 stone. The pony possessing the needful qualifications of make and shape has yet to be “made;” and only a trainer of experience could tell us what proportion of the likely-looking animals that come into his hands turn out worth the trouble of educating. Herein we find the reason for the vast difference in value which exists between a pony that is untrained and one which has gone through the various stages of stick-and-ball practice, the bending courses, practice games, and has finally been proven in matches. In the raw state the best-looking 14-hands 2-inch pony is worth £25 to £50; when trained—when he has proved to his exacting trainer’s satisfaction that he is a Polo Pony, and does not merely look like one—he is worth, as we know, any sum up to 750 guineas, and there is no reason to suppose that this figure marks the limit which enthusiastic players are prepared to pay; on the contrary, the tendency is to go further.