The Hunt dinner at the club, a large theatre party, and a dance. Indeed, I was glad when I got to bed at the end of it all. On the close of the hunting season followed the polo season. It was arduous work to play polo in the heat of the summer, but it could not be helped. The first polo ground was in the park lands inside the Victoria race-course. Now the Polo Club owns a clubhouse and a tip-top ground not far from the city. Ponies were rather difficult to get in those days, and when you did get them there was very little opportunity to train them. It was with difficulty we managed to get one practice game a week with full sides. Several of the members of the Polo Club lived in the country, and it was difficult for them to spare the time to come into town for a game; besides, it was a fairly expensive game. Still, we battled away against all difficulties, and the game of polo was kept going in South Australia while the richer and older colonies of New South Wales and Victoria practically dropped it. Of recent years polo has become a favourite pastime throughout Australia, especially in many country districts, and after the War will doubtless become one of its national games. At the close of the hunting season I had turned out Buckland and Satan for a long spell, and picked up four or five ponies. I got some stables put up at Fort Glanville. The splendid beach at low tide afforded an excellent practice ground. The season moved along all well; we had only one severe accident. The game in those days began by placing the ball on the ground half-way between the goals. A player from each side was selected to gallop at a given signal from the goal posts to the ball. On the particular afternoon of the accident the two players selected were Tom Barr Smith and George Hawker. By some accident the two rode straight at each other; the ponies met head to head. There was quite a loud report. It was the cracking of the skull of one of the ponies. The pony had to be shot, but no particular harm was done to the riders. As a result of this accident it was decided to alter the rules of the game. This was done, and there was no more wild galloping to start the game. After trying several ponies, I was successful in getting hold of two real good ones. One was a light, cream-coloured mare, descended from a Welsh Taffy imported sire. I called her "Creamie." She was a flyer. The other, a well-bred little bay, which I named "Kitty," I bought from the Governor's A.D.C., Captain Williams.