CHAPTER VI. 



DRAGGING THE SEINE; 



OE, A FISH FRY IN KENTUCKY. 



FIFTEEN years ago, a Kentucky fish-fry was one of the oc- 

 casions to date from. Like the New England clam bakes, 

 they were characteristic local scenes, in which you saw more 

 of the heart of the people in a few hours, than you might, 

 under other circumstances, in years. 



We had other out-door festivals, to be sure, which were 

 equally characteristic of time, place and people, but they 

 were more public and miscellaneous such as the barbecue, 

 which was usually given in honor of some political person 

 or event, and to which all classes were invited to join in 

 festivities on a grand scale, and when oxen were roasted 

 whole. 



Then there was the bran dance, which commencing with 

 the barbacued feast wound up with a grand dance upon the 

 rolled earth, sprinkled with bran beneath the arbors and in 

 which everybody, high or low, participated with a reckless 

 abandon of jollity. The confused jumble of all classes in 

 this rude festival, made it more an occasion for roystering 

 fun than refined enjoyment, and although forty years ago 

 they were participated in by our ladies, and I remember well 

 hearing my aunt and mother tell, many times, of dancing 

 with the young Harry Clay at the bran dance, yet they grad- 

 ually fell into disuse by the more refined. 



