Gusty, chilling winds pushed belligerently down from the Arctic and out onto the great plains, and warned wheatgrowers to hurry with the last of the harvesting. Along the country roads of Ontario and Quebec, the white breath of horses pulling farm wagons marked the imminence of winter as much as the opulent piles of stacked hardwood in the sheds.
On the long, curving road that hugs the fertile banks of the St. Lawrence all the way from Montreal to Quebec, the dollhouse shacks of tourist camps were boarded tight, and French Canadian schoolchildren...
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