426 RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. 



who would fain foretell the character of the coming win- 

 ters. I have endeavored to trace the origin of many of 

 these " sayings," as already mentioned when speaking of 

 the squirrels and musk-rats, and I also tried to determine 

 how much truth might be contained in any of these so- 

 called signs. In not one of them has anything worthy 

 of credence been found. Here is a " weather sign " re- 

 ferring to cat-fish, which I have clipped from a newspa- 

 per. It is evidently as meaningless as are all such so- 

 called signs : 



" How do you tell when it's going to be a cold win- 

 ter, Uncle Abe ? " 



" I mostly tells by de fish. I been a fisher all my life, 

 ever since I been a little nigger so high, and if you no- 

 tice a cat-fish in de fall you will see dat sometimes de 

 skin on his belly is thick and sometimes it is thin. 

 When its thick dar's gwine to be a cold winter, an' when 

 it's thin dar's gwine to be a warm 'un. I never knowed 

 dat sign to fail." 



" How is their skin this winter, Uncle Abe ? " 



" I'm mighty sorry to say, chile, it's mighty thick." 



The other and even more abundant cat-fish is the 

 "mud-cat," or, as my young friends invariably call it, the 

 "catty." This is essentially a meadow and Watson's 

 Creek species with us, and it is almost as abundant, even 

 in the ditches, as the mullet. 



However enthusiastic one may be, I can scarcely con- 

 ceive of any one becoming excited over a sleepy cat-fish, 

 as it lazily loafs over stretches of mud, and threads its 

 languid way through a forest of lily-stems. This, in fact, 

 about covers the range of its habits for fully ten months 

 of the year, as I have no reason to believe that cat-fish 

 hibernate ; at least, about here. 



