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He greased the frying pan with a strip of bacon rind and then skinned the scaleless catfish and eels as if he had been doing nothing else all his life. Soon the savory odors of the frying with crisp slices of bacon, and the aroma of coffee, filled the camp.
He abused me a little for being so slow; but I told him I fell in the river, and that was what made me so long. I knowed he would see I was wet, and then he would be asking questions. We got five catfish off the lines and went home.
Take it where you will, the approach of the soul's catfish is watched with apprehension and violent dislike, all the more because it saves from torpor. It saves from what Hamlet calls "That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits devil." In the Futurist exhibition held in Sackville Street in 1912, one of the most notable pictures was called "Rebellion."
A light kind of mould of great depth, without a particle of stone of any kind, was the character of the soil. One of the boats tried the hooks and lines during our rambles over the country, and from the number of catfish and a dark kind of bream that was caught, we are enabled to state that this part of the Albert abounds with them.
Du Gay shot a young cow, and they feasted so bountifully that they were taken ill and could not travel for two days. In the meantime the weather was warm, their meat spoiled, and they were soon again nearly famished, depending on catfish and an occasional turtle. She was working herself insensibly up a steep craggy Rock, to get at the Swallows Nests which are there in great Numbers.
Suppose he should be there, and we should happen to go near his plantation?" "Hossifus!" groaned Cyd. "Massa Raybone down dar! Dis chile gubs it all up den." "Don't give up yet, Cyd," laughed Dan. "Mossifus! If dis nigger see ole massa, he done sink into de ground, like a catfish in de mud." "You haven't seen him yet, Cyd; and what is more, I don't believe you will see him."
"There's Dick!" exclaimed both boys, and then as the young reporter came into sight, "What luck, Dick?" "What do you know about this?" and Dick held up a fine string of glittering fish. There were catfish, perch and two eels. "Good; we won't go hungry," said Zeb. "Nothing better than fried eels and catfish."
Don't matter a damn if she ain't got over putting hair-oil in her cocktails, like they do at New Orleans we won't fall out about that, either. I don't have to drink 'em. Only thing, she calls a cussed old catfish a 'poisson. That's when we begin to tangle some. But taking it all in all up one side and down the other I never did know before what good cooking meant.
I've caught 'em in our pond. You can hardly get 'em off the hook without getting stung by 'em." "Catfish don't sting you. But you have to knock 'em in the head when you land them, so as to make 'em behave. I've seen the boys do it." "I'm going to make a grab for that fellow," declared Russ. "I reckon you'd miss him. You couldn't hold him, anyway," said Frane doubtfully. "I could so."
"Uncle said I could try." "Oh, you can," said Elnora. "You can try no end, but you'll never get a trout. This is too far south and too warm for them. If you sit on the bank and use worms you might catch some perch or catfish." "But that isn't exercise." "Well, if you only want exercise, go right on fishing. You will have a creel full of invisible results every night."
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