Stewart MacDonald, M.D.

lots on both sides of the county line. One on the east side gave him the right to an extra vote in Kings County.

Sam kept a few cows as well as a couple of horses. One of the horses, a beautiful wild horse, never did any work, and was always called “the foal.” The foal wan- dered over the vast territories of the old Donald MacPher- son farm, along with the cows. The horse used to follow along the edge of the fence when we were taking our team to work. Apparently when Sam’s brother Albert went west, he left the young horse with Sam. Sam sent A1— bert a bill of 7 cents a day for keeping the horse, before the horse died at an old age.

Sam did not seem to have much ambition for work and seemed to live on his money. He guarded the blue- berries and cranberries as if they were gold. There were several wild apple trees, grown from seeds scattered by the cows, but if Sam caught anyone sneaking in to get one he always seemed to be there.

Sam was a tall man and smoked a corn cob pipe. He lived with his mother and did not move out much. When he went anywhere he travelled in a wagon, which had a hood like the earlier Ford cars. When he got old and sick he went to the Charlottetown Hospital and stayed there for over a year. Dr. W. J. P. MacMillan treated him and put in a bill for $1.00 per day when Sam died. Very few of the people living in Little Sands today remember the Sam Dixon who guarded his wild apples, blueberries and cranberries as if they were gold.

I recall amputating a patient’s leg. When we were sawing it off, the surgeon, Dr. John Bonnell, looked up at me and said “Would this not remind you of Sam Dixon sawing off a log?” I could see in my mind Sam hacking off a piece of wood for fire wood.

16