Singular Phenomenon
(From the Chico (Cal.) Record, Aug. 20.)
About 2 o'clock p.m. a young man who works on the Shephard ditch, stepped out of Mr. Yokum's store, and was pelted with an immense lot of small fish say from one to three inches in length, and consisting of a great variety – sun, perch, flying fish, and many other [sic] that did not belong to the scale family. The young man called those in the store to come and see the wonder, when more than a dozen men went out and saw them dropping thick and fast. They covered the roof of the store and extended for a circumference of two or three acres, and perhaps more. I thought at first that a flock of traveling pelicans were unloading their pouches for the purpose of attaining a higher stratum of atmosphere, that would take them more rapidly to their destination. But I gazed for a long time in the clear blue sky in every direction, without being rewarded with the sight of a single pelican. Then I weakened to the pelican theory, and I am led to believe if it were the work of pelicans they must have been so high that they were out of sight. The fishes were very wet when they first fell, but soon dried after striking the ground. I understood that William Phillips, laboring under the impression that all good things come from above, devoured one of the finest ones of the lot, and said it tasted so good that he sadly regretted not having harvested more of them. Such fine epicurean frenzies are very rare in the community. Eli Branum has preserved quite a lot of them in a bottle of gin.