A. Stewart MacDonald D.F.C., MD. C..M.

on a wood road instead of the road for home. However,

he finally found the proper road home. That seems very small to me today, but then I felt I was in the desert. I then got a driving horse who walked about eight miles an hour; however, she had a mind of her own. A couple of times she got mad at me holding on to her, and she did what was known as a backup. It was just opposite a cemetery on a dark, rainy night, and I made a great attempt to get her to advance forward. She finally started at a slow pace, then got faster, which was full speed. By that time, I was so mad I stood up in the wagon and hit her with the reins. She stopped so quickly, I went over her head. This experience never happened again. I certainly felt bad when she took lockjaw and died, two weeks before I went to Prince of Wales College — Third Year.

After teaching another year, I heard of a racehorse for sale on Peters Road, they were only asking $75.00. Although a lot of money in Depression, it seemed not much for a racehorse named Johnnie Walker, or Walkie for short. The owner offered to put him on the wagon and show me how he could go, but he passed his gate twice as he could not slow him up; that did not bother me much. Later, I heard that the only way they could stop him when they went to shoe him in Murray River, was against the door of the forge. I was quite proud of him, and took my father for a drive. When I got home we were not half a mile from home, when he kicked up over the shaft of the wagon but luckily, he got his foot back. I can still see the look on my father’s face which told me, you just bought a kicker - one of the worse type of horse. I had him another 10 years and he never kicked again, although when he got excited he would walk on his hind legs. They had to take him off the racetrack as they couldn't stop him - no gates in those days. He was a blue grass horse from Kentucky and was

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