

THE CATFISH. 



THE CATFISH OR BULL-HEAD. 



Don't talk to me o' bacon fat 

 Or taters, coon or 'possum, 

 Fo' when I'se hooked a yaller cat 

 I'se got a meal to boss 'em. 



The Darky and the Catfish. 



^X^HE Catfish is somewhat like pate dc foie gras or })ickled olives. 

 ^ Those who do not very much like it detest it. The metropolis of its 

 popularity is Philadelphia, but whenever taken from clear, cool water it is 

 palatable, and when properly cooked even delicious, its texture and flavor 

 resembling that of the eel. Since every small boy begins his angling ex- 

 periences with Catfish, instructions for its capture would be superfluous. Its 

 appetite is always good, and its palate, or whatever stands for palate in 

 fish architecture, by no means delicate. A spice of danger attends its 

 capture, and perhaps the excitement of taking one of them off the hook, 

 atones in part for its lack of gameness in the water, for a well constituted 

 catfish always gorges the hook, and its spines, always erected, inflict pain- 

 ful wounds. Certain anglers I believe, essay the capture of catfish with 

 fly and fancy tackle. It would be cruel to deprive ingenious tyros of 

 the privilege of learning this method for themselves. 



I am assured that salt mackerel is almost as good a bait as angle-worms 

 or live minnows — a secret of great economic imi)ortance to small l)oys. 

 Another secret is this, that the catfish never bites when an ca"st wind is 

 blowing. 



