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Coprinus picaceus, Polyporus giganteus and P. frondosus, Strobilomyces strobilaceus, 
Hydnum graveolens, Lentinus tigrinus, Morchella semi-libera, Helvella Ardenia 
and elastica, Mitrula paludosa, Tulostoma mammosum, several Geasters, Piziza 
reticulata, and atro-rufa, and several others- With regard to the very local Can- 
tharellus cinereus, of which Mr. Berkeley had stated that it had not been met with 
since the time of Bolton in the last century, Mr. Lees observed that ten years ago 
he found it in some abundance in Perry Wood, near Worcester, and the same year 
received it from Dr. Bull, who had gathered it near Hereford, but strange to say 
neither of them had met with that Cantharellus since. | 
Of course the spores of Fungi are taken up into the air, and are carried any- 
where and everywhere. Accidentally broken and trodden upon, we see how the 
spores of a puff-ball rise like smoke into the atmosphere, soon lost to sight, and the 
spores of other species thus carried upward descend to the ground with rain. A little 
room of mine at home is unfortunately by a crack in the ceiling open to admit rain 
when itis continuous. Last autumn a quantity of rain rain down one side of the 
room, which is now blackwashed with the spores of Coprini, and a group of the 
Coprinus cinereus appeared upon the ceiling. So the Merulius lachrymans gets into 
neglected rooms, and as I myself saw, intruded among the shelves of the cathedral 
library at Worcester, and even sported itself among the bindings of books—perhaps 
not very often opened. No wonder, then, wherever damp or moisture exists, 
there fungi will penetrate in the shape of mould or mildew, covering the exterior 
of our jams and jellies, deforming the plants in our gardens and conservatories, 
eating up our potatoes, getting into our herbaria, and rendering our gathered 
fruits rotten. Air, earth, and water are all infested with fungi, and thus they 
claim admittance in every direction. I was once rambling with my late excellent 
friend Dr. G. Griffiths, then resident in Worcester, among the defiles of the 
Malvern Hills, when we were overtaken by a thunderstrom, during which a quan- 
tity of hail fell. I collected some of the hailstones on the spot, and placed them 
in a bottle, where they dissolved into a discoloured fluid, which, when placed under 
the microscope as soon as I got home, proved to be full of the spores of fungi of 
which I made a sketch. Thus, then, spores must fall abundantly with rain, or be 
dispersed by the winds in various directions. 
I must beg you to consider my remarks as only intended for familiar illus- 
trations, for I shall not enter on the microscopical organs of the fungi, or advance 
any theory of my own or other scientific mycologists as to their mode of fructifi- 
cation or commencement of growth. We must, however, consider them as meteoric 
plants, whose appearance depends upon temperature and conditions of the atmos- 
phere, and with the exception of the hard, persistent species attached to ligneous 
or manufactured substances, equally impatient of extreme heat or the frosts of 
winter. 
In a lower tribe of vegetation like this extensive mycological world, one 
might expect, if anywhere, to mark traces, if not actual examples, of those 
changes of form that Darwin has so descanted upon, and which has met with so 
many advocates. We do, indeed, find the common mould (Aspergillus glaucus) 
