In the horse shows an exhibitor, except in the Thoroughbred classes, is not required to furnish the pedigrees of his horses. The judges, therefore, decide entirely on conformation and action. These two things are what make or unmake the excellence of the individual animal. A well-formed horse is apt to have good action. Sometimes this is not so, just as sometimes a woman may have beauty of form and feature and lack animation, vivacity, and that infinite variety and sympathy which recently we have accustomed ourselves to call temperament. Good conformation in a horse, however, is the advantage which conduces to good action. When action and conformation supplement, adjust, and confirm each the other, we have what may be called an approach to the ideal horse. I have never seen the ideal horse; but pretty close to it. I have owned a few that were very satisfactory, but never one that was entirely so. Still I have hope. I suspect that when one realizes his ideal in anything, life loses some of its zest. The pursuit, the seeking, the longing for the unattained—these are the things that make life so interesting, so absorbing. If I had the horse I have long had in my mind I should be glad, no doubt. But I might be sorry, too. There is one saving fact, however. We change our ideals as we get more experience and further knowledge. I have changed my opinions often about horses, since I first became interested in them. While writing the last chapter of this book I confess that I have changed some of my opinions during the two or three months that I have been engaged in the composition. I have learned some things that I did not know before; I have parted with some prejudices which I ought never to have entertained. So it was inevitable that I should modify my views. If, therefore, I should ever obtain my ideal in horse-flesh I might awaken a few weeks later to find that I really wanted something just a little different. I seek the ideal, therefore, without fear of achieving it and meanwhile I have lots of fun with horses that are not more than half what they ought to be. The oldest writer on horses was Xenophon. He says: “The neck should not be thrown out from the chest like a boar’s, but like a cock’s, should rise straight up to the poll, and be slim at the bend, while the head, though bony, should have but a small jaw. The neck would then protect the rider, and the eye see what lies before the feet.” Xenophon is the oldest writer on the subject. Mr. Price Collier is the latest and in many regards the best, because he not only knows how to write, but knows what he is writing about. Here is what he says about the proportions of a well-formed horse: