AMERICANS AND THEIR HORSES 1 33 



our entirely uncertain climate, who can be sure of any 

 distinct type in America ? We have our class distinctions, 

 our various social levels, our families, proud of their Ameri- 

 can ancestry ; and to serve us all, we import from every 

 country under the sun. We are always importing distinct 

 types of live stock, both of man and beast, and our im- 

 portations 'come to stay.' But even after many years — 

 beyond the '■je ne sais giioi,' which betrays our nationality 

 — who can assert that America has a type? Do we owe 

 this fact to our ever-changing climate, which woos us with 

 coquettish smile, caressing our expectant cheeks with balmy 

 breezes from the sunny South, and embracing us in a loving 

 generous warmth one day, and the next, with blackest frowns 

 pelts us unmercifully with wind and storm, hail and rain, 

 with terrifying thunder which roars at us, and angry light- 

 ning which strikes and blinds and destroys us? With 

 nothing positive in the way of climate, our differing types 

 have no chance to become fixed, and the student who 

 loves to arrange and classify, will yield the attempt in 

 despair. 



When we import a horse of whatever type, after two or 

 three generations his progeny loses his distinctive marks, 

 and in two or three more, the climate has obliterated any 

 that might be left. Some three hundred years ago, when 

 the Spanish horses entered America, some of them escaped 

 to the great plains of the West. From them has been 

 evolved the native horse of America, the broncho. The 

 conditions of climate have made him what he is, strong, 

 rough and hardy, able to exist on the scantiest of food in 

 the severest weather. He would probably turn up his nose 

 at a 'warm mash,' thinking it 'food for babes,' and would 

 no doubt resent a daily grooming, as an unwarranted liberty. 



