Connecticut western news., 1884-01-02
FROG HUNTING.
DESCRIPTION OF HOW IT Is DONE.
The Queer Means By Which Some People
 Obtuin n Livelihood.
[From the Philadelphia Press.l


 From the Philadelphia Press.l
 Among the people who inhaDit the lower section of the city, commonly known as the ''Neck," are a class who obtain their livelihood by what can be picked up in the "M'ash." Many of these can be found in Smoky Hollow, /" and Frogtown's population is almost en- tirely composed of this class. During most of the year they gain their suste- nance by what they call ''frogging, and are known as 'froggers." The frog hunters outfit consists of canvas suit, an old hat, pair of long boots. large bag made of some coarse material, and a dip net mounted on a strong iron frame, securely fastened to pole from six to eight feet in length. The ditches and marshes abound in bullfrogs and the frog hunter dredges these pools of stag nant water for them. They find ready sale for their "game" to a wholesale house on Market street, the price vary ing from thirty to fifty cents dozen, according to the size. The people en- gagged in this business generally live as near their hunting grounds as possible, and the row of little boat houses on the Delaware, below the salt works, on the old Point House road, is peopIed by them. The hunters make trips twice a week to the city, to dispose of their frogs and obtain their little stores. Their mode of life is primitive in the extreme, and they are generally quiet, inoffensive, and hospitable.
 A reporter called at the cabin of George W. White, the oldest frog hunt CT living in the Neck. His cabin is situ- ated about the centre of a row of boat houses on the Delaware banks, near the spot formerly occupied by the Point House, and consists of one room. Mir. White received the reporter pleasantly and said l: "Yes, I'm a frogger. Frog ging isn't what it used to be when was younger. I've followed this business for twenty-seven years, and all my family were froggers before me. My father fol- lowed it for nearly forty years, but he's dead now, and I'm the oldest frog hunter living. Twenty years ago it was no un- common thing for me to catch from thirty to forty dozen frogs in single day, but now I'm satisfied if get from eight to twelve dozen a day. When I first went into this business with my father frogs were only worth from six to ten cents dozen, but then they were more plentiful, and dollar went much further than now, but I guess I make as much on the whole as we used to. There were a great many more hunting them, too, in those days, and often the market would be glutted for several days. Now they have either all died off or gone out of the business entirely, and but few young men engaged in it except for fun.
 '1t is no easy task to tramp all day through the mud and water, with a heavy rake or net on your shoulder and a bag full of kicking frogs on your back, and most people prefer an easier method of making a living. But it's trade, the same as any mechanical work; it takes brains and muscle both, and, above all, rugged constitution. The marsh is as full of malaria as an egg is of meat, and no one not born in the Neck could live here year. I start out shortly after daylight in the morning with my bag and rake, and go to some point in the mash and begin operations. I work. the ditch toward the cabin and get somewhere near it by noon. Then 1 put my frogs in barrel and cover them with ditch grass. After dinner I go off again, this time somewhat further, and dredge the ditches until near dark, when I return home and after supper clean and bunch the game"
 "How do you know where the frogs are ?" was asked.
 'At this time of the year they lie buried in the mud, on the warm side of the ditch-that is the side having a southern exposure. During the winter the frogs lie in the mud, and I some times carry hatchet to break the ice so as to get at them"