An unshelled fish is lively and elusive past the power of words to portray, and in this, undoubtedly, lies its desirability. People will travel for two nights and a day to some spot where all unshelled fish has once been seen, taking $59.99 worth of fishing tackle, "marked down from $60.00 for to-day only," rent a canoe, hire a guide at more than human life is worth in courts of law, and work with dogged patience from gray dawn till sunset. And for what? For one small bass which could have been bought at any trustworthy market for sixty-five cents, or, possibly, some poor little kitten-fish-offspring of a catfish—whose mother's milk is not yet dry upon its lips. Why does the author say in paragraph 2 that the baby catfish (which she calls a "kitten-fish") has mother's milk not yet dry upon its lips, when fish don't really drink milk at all?
A) The author is joking about how young the catfish is.
B) The author is presenting a little known fact about catfish.
C) The author has her facts wrong and thinks fish nurse like baby mammals.
D) The author is trying to see if the reader knows the truth about catfish.