The Life of the Fly . 



brated of all, the orange, the imperial mush- 

 room, which the Romans of the empire, past- 

 masters in gluttony, called the food of the 

 gods, cibus deorum, the agaric of the Caesars, 

 Agaricus casareus. It is the most elegant of 

 all our mushrooms. When it prepares to make 

 its appearance by lifting the fissured earth, 

 it is a handsome ovoid formed by the outer 

 wrapper, the volva. Then this purse gently 

 tears and the jagged opening partly reveals a 

 globular object of a magnificent orange. Take 

 a hen's egg, boil it, remove the shell: what 

 remains will be the imperial mushroom in its 

 purse. Remove a part of the white at the top, 

 uncovering a little of the yolk. Then you 

 have the nascent imperial. The likeness is 

 perfect. And so the people of my part, struck 

 by the resemblance, call this mushroom lou 

 rousset d! ion, or, in other words, yolk-of-egg. 

 Soon, the cap emerges entirely and spreads 

 into a disk softer than satin to the touch and 

 richer to the eye than all the fruit of the Hes- 

 perides. Appearing amid the pink heather, 

 it is an entrancing object. 



Well, this gorgeous agaric (Amanita 

 casarea, scop.) , this food of the gods the mag' 

 got absolutely refuses. My frequent exam- 

 inations have never shown me an imperial at- 

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