to throw him a turnip whenever I was passing him. And this day I didn’t. And the next time I was coming with a couple of baskets I went to open the door to throw him a turnip, and he hauled off, and hit the door, and he put his head through it, and hit me in the face, and he smashed out four teeth out of the front of my mouth.

I kept going that day and the next day I went to town and got the roots of them pulled out. The nerve was exposed you know. My Lord, it was sore.

The bull beat me up one day. Yeah, a fight with the bull. He got loose in the stable. I was away at the time over at the mill with a load of lumber, and this other fella came over and he tried to catch him, and the bull wouldn’t let him catch him. He just made the bull worse you know.

So, when I came home, I got a hold of him with the ring in his nose. He made for the door with me hanging on. He smashed me up agin a pile of lumber, and only for our dog we had he’d a killed me. The bull got that mad, he was roaring for the door [of the house] here, trying to get in after me. He was clean crazy. Then he went off. So a bunch of neighbours came in just as it was getting dark then and they tried to catch him. At the last of it, they had to shoot him.

I was in the hospital for quite a while. I had my arm broke and a few ribs. And all summer my arm was cast; the cast over my body and a brace over my arm. It was terrible in the hot weather. It was a felt lining in the cast.

Just got another bull.

Horse Pride

Oh yes. I liked the horses. We had Clydesdales and we‘had Standardbreds. The draft horse did most of the work, the heavy work. They worked pretty hard: there wouldn’t be too much flesh on them. They’d be around 1,200 [pounds], I guess. We always had drivers. Everybody took pride in his driving horse.

We generally raised them. We’d generally a brood mare. I raised 30— some colts here, foals, you know, from brood mares, myself. I just started raising them in 1930. Some of them were work horses and most of them were Standardbreds. I sold them as colts for racing. A lot of them went over to Nova Scotia, to New Brunswick. And I used to race one myself: raced him in Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick, and Charlottetown and

Summerside.

Gus Ross 59