Horses require frequent change. After a while they may be doing badly in a paddock showing a rare sward of grass, but will suddenly make gigantic strides in growth and welfare when shifted to a worse pasture. They do not appreciate rough, coarse, over-grown grasses. Therefore, bullocks must be used to keep the exuberance of a bountiful nature in rigid check. Their pasturage must be kept clean from the soiling of their own droppings. Chain and brush harrows break this up well, and scatter it over the soil, but unrotted horse manure puts very little back to the earth that has been taken out, and to seek the pitch of perfection the droppings should all be raked together and carted away to a receptacle where it can rot and be used for the garden or the cultivated fields. Sheep and horses are like oil and water. They will not mix. You may run your mobs with sheep even amidst abundance, and yet they will be poverty stricken, covered with lice and ticks, unwholesome, and never “growthy.” So much shortly, then, for the land. Secondly, Shelter: In the Old Country, where housing must be resorted to for a very great portion of the year, this is really not so important as in Australia. “The cold winds of winter blow mournfully here,” as the song says, and these are searching beyond belief in Australia. Every paddock must have efficient shelters. Plantations, close-growing hedges, clumps of native pines, groups of box or gum trees, are essentials for the well-being of all horses. The hedges and pines make excellent wind breaks, but shade from the sun in summer is equally a necessity. I like open sheds, thickly thatched, no corrugated iron, please, fairly high in the roof, and far removed from trees. Horses cannot stand the noise of wind-swung boughs on roofing. They, as a rule, believe in ghosts. The flies are a terrible infliction in the spring and early summer. I should like to house my young ones, during the worst months, in dark, but sweet, stables throughout the long, scorching summer days, and turn them out in the paddocks during the grateful coolness of the nights.