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I'll admit that I lost interest in Frenchy's for a number of years, once we got the scarecrow outfitted. In 1972, our family had started spending summers in a fishing village on the South Shore of Nova Scotia, and the scarecrow, which our daughters named Mildew, came our way maybe eight or nine years after that. Mildew was a castoff from an extended family of scarecrows that appeared every spring in the vegetable garden of a retired man named Mr. Dalton, whose creations were eventually included in a picture book of Nova Scotia scarecrows, entitled "Outstanding in Their Fields." She had absorbed enough punishment from Maritime weather to be below Mr. Dalton's standards, ...