A. Stewart MacDonald D.F.C., M.D. C..M. 
     
    
   
   
    
     pawing the ground to get going. Another time, when I was 
     
     coming out of a field on a road that went through the field, 
     
     the sleigh landed in the ditch. The swing where the traces 
     
     caught, broke. Away went the horse, leaving me sitting in 
     
     the sleigh. He went a couple of hundred yards and then 
     
     turned around and came back and waited until I fixed the 
     
     sleigh, and then I had to hold on for dear life until I got 
     
     home. 
     
    

    
     Another time, my sister was visiting home and her 
     
     little boy crouched out in the yard. When she looked out, 
     
     the horse was running around him as if playing with him. 
     
     She was so scared she took the broom and chased him 
     
     away. 
     
    

    
     We never needed a lawnmower to cut the grass 
     
     in the yard. Walkie kept it clipped short and I never saw 
     
     him leave any manure, as he had his toilet back of the 
     
     woodshed. At times he showed the brains of an adult, and 
     
     at other times the brains of a child. I drove miles with him 
     
     to all the dances for miles around. III was a long way from 
     
     home, I would put the reins around the dash, go to sleep 
     
     and let him walk home. One summer I wore out 11 sets 
     
     of iron shoes, but in later years when I had a car, I used to 
     
     drive him only in the winter. My father would have him in 
     
     good shape after a summer’s rest. He became a good farm 
     
     horse, especially in a three horse team, as we had a couple 
     
     of keen horses. By putting him in the middle, he held them 
     
     back, but one day I was coming home to dinner with the 
     
     three, while I was in a drop sleigh. Suddenly he decided 
     
     to speed up with them. I had to encircle the barn several 
     
     times before I got them stopped. 
     
    

    
     I was never lost in a snowstorm; all I had to do 
     
     was let Walkie find his way home. He had a great sense 
     
     in keeping on the main track. Most horses wander off the 
     
     beaten track in a bad snowstorm. Distance did not seem 
     
    
   
   
    
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