NoVli'MBER 13. 
COUNTRY GKNTLEArAN’S COMPANION. 
Ill 
with the most experienced in such matters; but a little 
examination into the principles which govern their 
growth out of-doors may assist ns much in regulating 
our treatment of those we endeavour to grow artificially. 
lo make a bed with a view to ensure a crop, procure 
sonic good horse-droppings that have not been heated, 
some sheep-dung that has not laid long on the ground, 
lor the rain to wash away its richness—let these be well , 
mixed, and if there be any quantity of it, let it be turned i 
every day, lor a little time ; then every two days, as the j 
heat may seem to be, and when it gets so far moderated | 
as to give tokens of sweetness and steadiness, the bed | 
may be made, which, if inside some building where a i 
little fire-heat can bo given, need not be more than ] 
eighteen inches thick, and as long and wide as required; 
but if the place be 02 ien,and not any means of warming 
it, a greater thickness of bed, with a more careful 
))re|)aration of materials, so as to ensure against their 
overheating, must bo resorted to, supposing that a place 
on purpose is to be had, with shelves, &c., in the usual 
way. 1 would, in making up the beds, now-and-then 
throw in pieces of half-decayed turf, and also pieces of 
spawn ; this is on the supposition that the latter is 
plentilul, which it ought to be; a good beating or tread¬ 
ing is necessary ; and, last of all, a good coating of fresh 
maiden loam irom a pasture where Mushrooms are 
known to grow naturally; this coating, however, had 
better be delayed a few days, until there be no danger 
of the bed overheating; at the same time, it must heat 
a little. Watering shmdd not be done to any extent, 
except keeping the surface moist, until the Mushrooms 
appear, when they may have a little; but if the bed 
seems to do well at first, it would be better to avoid 
heavy waterings until the bed begins to go off, or 
partially cease, when a good, heavy watering will some¬ 
times revive it again, and another good crop will be the 
issue, with an extended season of bearing. 
Where there exists no shed, nor out house, in which 
to make up a Mushroom-bed, and there is plenty of 
good horse-dung to be had, a very good bed may some¬ 
times be made against a blank wall, after the dung is 
sufficiently sweetened by turning, &c., as above, a bed 
about four feet wide, w'ell trodden down, and built some¬ 
thing like a steep-pitched lean-to roof will be; but, in 
fact, very short dung cannot well be built iqi perpen¬ 
dicularly, neither would it bo so well; for this lying 
against the wall presents a diagonal surface, which can 
easily be covered up to any extent; spawning, covering 
with earth, &c., may be done the same as recommended 
1 above, and a deep coating of straw, or litter, will be all I 
that is wanted, examining it, from time to time, to see j 
that tlie heat does not decrease, and that the fibrous | 
matter of spawn does not expend itself uselessly in run¬ 
ning into the litter, which it will sometimes do, to the 
injury of the crop. Very often a good crop is obtained I 
in this way, the more liberal supply of dung making up, 
in a great measure, for the want of shelter. Even the 
wall itself may be dispensed with. 
I have had as good a crop of Mushrooms on a bed j 
out-of doors as 1 ever had in a house. The bed was made ' 
as above, only, instead of being a “lean-to,” it was a i 
“span,” the dung being built up into a steep ridge-like 
shape, and well beaten, &c. A good, heavy covering is 
the i>rincij)al thing; and if the dung bo in a good, well- 
tempered condition in October, when the bed is made, it 
is not likely to lose heat until the Mushrooms are 
formed and a crop secured. A cellar is also not a bad | 
place for a bed ; and we all know that Mushrooms arc I 
now-aud-then found in very singular jdaces. 1, myself, ! 
have seen some that were produced in a coal mine 400 
feet deep. But, as winter is a time when most structures 
are in use, 1 would advise the amateur, who has no 
accommodation that way, to try the effects of a bed quite 
out-of doors, as above. This ho can do at little expence, i 
I if he be living in a town where dung is plentiful. 
I Tlie result is likely to be encouraging, and very often the 
^lushrooms so ))roduccd arc better in quality than others j 
more assisted by artificial means. J. Robson. 
CONSEQUENCES. | 
/Jy Ihe yliilhorc.ss of “ jMi/ Flowers." 
If there should chance to be, among our readers, any | 
young persons of my own sex, I now particularly addiess , 
myself to them, and entreat them to give me their attention, | 
while 1 speak a word of warning upon a subject very i 
interesting to the sisterhood at all times—and which has, | 
necessarily, a very powerful inlluencc upon their worldly i 
happiness— I mean the estate of matrimony. JMen have ' 
abundance of room in which to disport themselves; they i 
have professions and pursuits that occupy and ajuuse their ! 
minds, independent of all control—so that should their 
domestic relations be uncomfortable, they have something to 
fall back upon to fill up the dreary wild, and in the perfor¬ 
mance of wdiich their energies are exercised, and their 
thoughts occupied, to the exclusion of other things. They 
are, in a great measure, independent of home-interests, 
which sweeten and refine their work in life, without forming 
its essence. ; 
With woman it is altogether ditfercut. Home is her field ' 
of labour; domestic life her solo profession. How impor¬ 
tant, then,ghat she should enter upon it carefully ! and yet, 
how seldom does she lit and prepare herself for her ivork; 
how seldom does she observe tiio rules and regulations 
drawn up for her ; and how frequently she dashes into part¬ 
nership, not only with a Tirm already insolvent, but so 
madly, and so wickedly, that disasters must ensue, “ as sparks 
lly upward.” 
The history of a lady, wdio lived to an advanced age, under 
circumstances of the kind I allude to, will be, 1 trust, a 
warning to giddy, or obstinate, or imprudent young women, 
who may possibly bo thinking their parents cruel; them¬ 
selves wiser than their elders ; and everything that glitters— 
gold. 
Julia Manners was the daughter of a younger son of a 
high county family, who, having nothing, became a man of 
business in tbe City, and made, by degrees, a large fortune. 
He never went away from his post, but remained busied in 
his daily routine, and his family remained there with him. 
His wife died while their three children were yonng—in 
fact, she went oft in decline immediately after the birth of 
the youngest boy, leaving them as a legacy to a father, who, 
of course, know nothing at all of nursery aft'airs, and left ' 
them almost entirely to the care of servants. Julia, older 
by some years than her two brothers, grew up into a lively, 
thoughtless girl, without the restraining hand and anxious 
care of a mother, so essential to a child’s well-being. No 
eye could watch over her tastes and habits, or implant even 
w'orldly lessons of wisdom. Her father gave her a suitable j 
education and accomplishments, and came home every day j 
to a late dinner. IVith true masculine short-sightedness, he 
engaged a very handsome, young music-master to perfect 
Julia in that art, wdiile ho himself Avas immersed in City 
engagements, never dreaming of the consequences of so 
thoughtless an arrangement, until it was too late. 
Mr. Grosvenor Avas a young man of very good family, 
but he had been cast off from Ijis father’s care at an early 
age, and compelled to support himself. It Avas a case of 
extreme hardship, and the young man avus greatly to be 
liitied; but still he Avas, by distressing circumstances, a 
music-juastcr, and of no further account in the eyes of 
man. Miss Manners it Avas knoAvn Avould be handsomely ; 
provided for, and Mr. Grosvenor Avas poor; they Avere, ■ 
besides, young, aud thrown together, and Julia, at least, i 
attached licrself to the first person Avho professed to love [ 
her. It Avas impossible lo thiidc for a moment of asking j 
jMr. iManners’ consent to such a match for his daughter— 
Julia Avell knew that Avould be a hopeless step—but she was 
very young, very thoughtless, and very ignorant of all that 
she ought to knoAv. No one had been at hand to teach her 
lessons of Avisdom from the mouth of the Lord ; she Avas, in 
all moral and religious things, totally neglected; and if 
