Stewart MacDonald, M.D.

Donald was not only big but very fast on his feet. The man who had won first prize in running at the Exhibition in Charlottetown went to see Donald who was ploughing. Donald took off his shoes and they had a race then and there. Donald won the race.

I recall my father telling me that in that field below the road “it was nothing to see up to 40 horses grazing." When Donald would get enough horses he would make a string and take them to Borden and raft them across the Strait. In New Brunswick he found ready sale for horses to work in the mines.

Even when I was small, Sam Dixon used to cut hay in that field across from our house, a field long since grown up into woods. Along the road to the south was a board fence, rather odd to see. There was a low field in which cranberries grew in abundance, but Sam Dixon really guarded them, lest anyone pick some of them.

Although Donald was big and strong, he was terrified of ghosts. One time he was coming home with the saddle on his back after selling a string of horses, and no doubt with some cash in his pocket. As it was a Saturday night he did not wish to be carrying a saddle on Sunday. He called into a farm home and asked if he could stay the weekend. An elderly man and woman lived there, and they agreed that he could stay. They told many stories, but after he went to bed he heard them saying, “Do you think it is right for us to do it?” Thinking that he was about to be robbed, Donald slept with one eye open. In the morning they asked him if he had slept well, say- ing that they were afraid that he might have heard them whispering. When he admitted that he had, they told him that a man had come to their house some years be- fore, but he had got sick and died there. Before he had died he said that he was a teacher. Then he confessed

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