lo EDIBLE MUSHROOMS 



of death as there are distinct species," and whose 

 obstinate dogma, " There is only one mushroom, all 

 the rest are toadstools," has doubtless spared them 

 an occasional untimely grave, for few of this class, 

 from their very conservatism, ever fall victims to the 

 " toadstool." 



And what a self-complacent, patronizing, solicitous 

 character this rustic mushroom oracle is ! Go where 

 you will in the rural districts and you are sure of 

 him, or perhaps her^ — usually a conspicuous figure 

 in the neighborhood, the village blacksmith, perhaps, 

 or the simpler " Old Aunt Huldy." Their father 

 and " granther " before them " knew how to tell a 

 mushroom," and this enviable knowledge has been 

 their particular inheritance. 



How well we more special students of the fungus 

 know him ! and how he wins our tender regard with 

 his keen solicitude for our well-being ! We meet him 

 everywhere in our travels, and always with the same 

 old story ! We emerge from the wood, perhaps, with 

 our basket brimful of our particular fungus tidbits, 

 topped off with specimens of red Russula and Bole- 

 tus, and chance to pass him on the road or in the 

 meadow. He scans the basket curiously as he passes 

 us. He has perhaps heard rumors afloat that " there's 

 a city chap in town who is tempting Providence with 

 his foolin' with tudstools ;" and with genuine solici- 

 tude and superior condescension and av^e, all be- 

 trayed in his countenance, he must needs pause in 

 his walk to relieve his mind in our behalf. I recall 

 one characteristic episode, of which the above is the 

 prelude. 



