The Words of My Roaring

I was electioneering. By God, people were listening. People were looking my way. And some joker with his arse beginning to ache from sitting too long on a nail had to clear his throat and chip in, "Backstrom, what have you got to offer?" I looked at the speaker and saw he was a farmer and I said, "Mister, how would you like some rain?" A new edition of another classic from one of Canada's most enduring novelists.