Nowadays, if you tell people you spent your childhood chasing frogs through the marshes, they tend to look at you the way they might regard someone admitting they once wrestled raccoons for entertainment. Mention eating frog legs and you’re liable to be called a little cracked or dippy. To a city visitor it sounded like an orchestra tuning up, but to us local youngsters it sounded like an opportunity. Majury was the only licensed commercial frog hunter working the stretch of river between Carleton Place and Pakenham, ON. Children promised they wouldn’t misbehave while secretly planning expeditions halfway to the local covered bridge on the Yamaska River.