Last winter I met Crerar in a Toronto hotel. He had just been down east proclaiming for United Farmers in the Maritimes. An ardent Crerarite who spends his life watching Ottawa closely said as the leader came up:
"Tom, your one best bet is to make an alliance with Lapointe. That combination could upset any other confederacy in Parliament."
Crerar smiled—warmly. He said nothing. At lunch no doubt he discussed this with his supporter. The old ace of Quebec! When will that home of race Nationalism ever get into the hand of cards held by Crerar who would inundate Quebec with reciprocity? Perhaps one E. C. Drury can tell. He is talked about as the man whom Crerar may call to the Premiership in a Cabinet of fourteen Ministers of Agriculture and one Minister of Justice.
THE PREMIER WHO MOWED FENCE-CORNERS
HON. E. C. DRURY
MOWING FENCE-CORNERS.
A zig-zag old rack with its ivies and moss,
Just fifty-odd panels or so;
A wheat-field, a scythe and a boy his own boss;
He had the fence-corners to mow.
He slivered the whetstone clear out to the tip
Of his snake-handled, snubnosed old blade;
And he swung his straw hat with a sweep and a rip
With the sun ninety-four in the shade.
He thought of the water-jug cool as a stone
Right under a burdock's green palm,
By the leg of a fence-corner hickory half-grown,
Where the breeze always blew in a calm.
But the boss saw him loafing clear over the corn,
The next the boy heard was a shout;
And he wished for a moment he never was born
To mow all those fence-corners out.