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There's nothing bashful about a tule fog. It'll creep inside your clothes. It'll seep through the window cracks and get right into bed with you.

When I got home from the schoolhouse on Tuesday, there wasn't a wisp of fog. I lived with my great-aunt Etta and she was waiting for me.

"Opie," she said. "How would you like chicken for supper?"

"Yes, ma'am"' I said.

"Splendid. I've got the chicken. You go out back and pluck it."

I gave a groan. She gave me the chicken. She had a way of foxing me into doing pesky chores like that.

I sat myself on the chopping stump and began to pull feathers. I passed the time thinking up names for my horse. I already had a list a mile-and-a-half long.

I didn't own a horse-yet.

But I had one promised. Aunt Etta had struck a bargain with me. When I earned enough money to buy a good saddle, she'd buy a good horse to fit under it.

The trouble was I was only ten and kind of runty in size. The older, bigger boys seemed to get all the after-school jobs around town.

"Wild Charlie," I said aloud. I liked the sound of that. A horse ought to have the exact right name. I mean, you wouldn't name a fine horse Hubert. He'd die of shame. I could see myself galloping across the meadow on Wild Charlie. But when I looked up I couldn't see the meadow. Or the trees. Or the barn. And before long I couldn't even see the chicken in my hands.

A tule fog had sprung up.

My heart gave a mighty leap. There was saddle money to be made in a good thick fog! I had already saved $2.11. But I needed heaps and heaps of money--$17.59 exactly.

I began plucking the rest ofthose feathers so fast you'd think that hen was in a rooster fight. The fog around me was dripping wet. All you needed to wash your ears was a bar of soap. Not that I had a mind to.

I guess there's nothing thicker and wetter than a ground-hugging California tule fog. Aunt Etta was always saying not to stand in one too long. You'd grow webbed feet.

I felt my way back to the house and handed the bird to Aunt Etta.

"I'll be back for supper," I said.

"Don't you got lost," she said. "That tule is so thick you'll need a compass to cross the road."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And don't stay out too long. You'll grow webbed feet."