Valuable as is the common mushroom, it is indisputable that not a few other kinds are also capable of affording excellent food. Therefore, figures are given of the most prevalent, useful, and easily recognised kinds of edible fungi, as well as of the common mushrooms of our gardens and markets. These figures have been admirably drawn by Mr. W. G. Smith, and are accompanied by what seemed the most satisfactory accounts of the characters and properties that are obtainable. The spores which accompany the figures are uniformly enlarged seven hundred diameters.

Marasmius oreades (Fairy-ring Champignon).

Pileus smooth, fleshy, convex, subumbonate, generally more or less compressed, tough, coriaceous, elastic, wrinkled; when water-soaked, brown; when dry, of a buff or cream-colour, the umbo often remaining red-brown, as if scorched; gills free, distant, ventricose, of the same tint as the pileus, but more pale; stem equal, solid, twisted, very tough and fibrous, of a pale silky-white colour.

The fairy-ring agaric is a valuable little fungus, and common on almost every lawn. In hilly pastures it generally appears in broad brown patches, either circular or forming a portion of a circle.

M. urens, the most acrid of all allied funguses, usually grows in woods, though sometimes in the fairy-ring. However, its flat top and narrow crowded gills cause it to be readily distinguished anywhere.

Opinions on the Merits of Marasmius oreades as an edible Fungus.—“On the Continent this species has long been considered edible, but on account of its coriaceous texture it is dried and employed in the form of powder, to season various made-dishes.”—Dr. Greville.

“The common fairy-ring champignon is the best of all our funguses, yet there is scarcely one person in a thousand who dare venture to use it. With common observation no mistake need be made with regard to it. It has an extremely fine flavour, and makes perhaps the very best ketchup that there is.”—Rev. M. J. Berkeley.

“An excellent flavour, as good as that of most funguses.”—Dr. Badham.

Modes of Cooking Marasmius oreades.—General Use.—“Cut in small pieces and seasoned it makes an excellent addition to stews, hashes, or fried meats, but it should only be added a few minutes before serving, as the aroma is dissipated by over cooking. It is the mushroom used in the French À la mode beef-shops in London.”—Dr. Badham.

When stewed, the champignons require rather longer time to ensure their being made perfectly tender. They are readily dried by removing the stems from the fungus, threading them on a string, and hanging them up in a dry airy place. “When dried, it may be kept for years without losing any of its aroma or goodness, which, on the contrary, becomes improved by the process, so as, in fact, to impart more flavour to the dish than would have been imparted by the fresh fungus; though it is not to be denied that the flesh then becomes coriaceous (or tough), and less easy of digestion.”—Dr. Badham.

Champignon Powder.—Put the champignons in a stew-pan with a little mace and a few cloves, and a sprinkling of white pepper. Simmer, and shake constantly to prevent burning, until any liquor that may exude is dried up again. Dry thoroughly in a warm oven until they will easily powder. Put the dried agaric, or the powder, into wide-mouthed glass bottles, and store in a dry place. It will keep any length of time. A tea-spoonful added to any soup, or gravy, or sauce, just before the last boil is given, will produce a very fine mushroom flavour.

Pickled Champignons.—Collect fresh buttons of the fairy-ring agaric and use them at once. Cut off the stems quite close and throw each one as you do so into a basin of water in which a spoonful of salt has been put. Drain them from it quickly afterwards, and place them on a soft cloth to dry. For each quart of buttons thus prepared, take nearly a quart of pale white wine vinegar, and add to it a heaped tea-spoonful of salt, half an ounce of whole white pepper, an ounce of ginger-root bruised, two large blades of mace, and a fourth of a salt-spoon of cayenne pepper tied in a small piece of muslin. When this pickle boils throw in the agarics and boil them in it over a clear fire moderately fast, from six to nine minutes. When tolerably tender put them into warm wide-mouthed bottles, and divide the spice equally amongst them. When perfectly cold, cork well, or tie skins and paper over them. Store in a dry place, and keep out the frost.

Full-sized champignons may be pickled exactly in the same way, but will require longer boiling, until indeed they become tender.—Modified from Miss Acton.

Champignons quickly Pickled.—Place the prepared buttons in bottles with a blade of mace, a tea-spoonful of pepper-corns, and a tea-spoonful of mustard seed in each, and cover with the strongest white wine pickling vinegar boiling hot. Cork or tie down as before, but do not expect them to keep above three months.

Agaricus procerus (the Parasol Agaric).

Pileus fleshy, ovate when young, then campanulate, and afterwards expanded and umbonate (blunt pointed), from three to seven inches across. Cuticle more or less brown, entire over the umbo, but torn into patches, or scales which become more and more separated as they approach the margin. Flesh white. Gills unconnected with the stem, fixed to a collar on the pileus surrounding its top. Ring persistent, loose on the stem. Stem six or eight inches high, tapering upwards from a pear-like bulb at the root, hollow with a loose pith, whitish brown, but more or less variegated with small and close-pressed scales.

Whenever an agaric on a long stalk, enlarged at the base, presents a dry cuticle more or less scaly, a darker coloured umbonated top, a moveable ring, and white gills, it must be Agaricus procerus, the parasol agaric, and it may be gathered and eaten without fear. When the whitish flesh of this agaric is bruised it shows a light reddish colour.

There are but two other agarics that at all resemble it, and both are edible. One about the same size is Agaricus rachodes. It is not generally considered so good in flavour as A. procerus. Mrs. Hussey, however, says plainly, “If Agaricus procerus is the king of edible funguses, Agaricus rachodes is an excellent viceroy.” The other is the Agaricus excoriatus, a very much smaller fungus, with a more slender habit, a shorter stem, and no true bulb at the base. This elegant little fungus is also very good eating.

The parasol agaric has a very wide range of growth. It is a common fungus, and is in high request all over the Continent.

Opinions on the Merits of Agaricus procerus as an Edible Fungus.—“A most excellent mushroom, of a delicate flavour, and it must be considered a most useful species.”—The Rev. M. J. Berkeley.

“Were its excellent qualities better known here, they could not fail to secure it a general reception into our best kitchens, and a frequent place among our side dishes at table.”—Dr. Badham.

“If once tried, it must please the most fastidious.”—Worthington G. Smith.

There can be no question but that, when young and quickly grown, the parasol agaric is a delicious fungus. It has a light and delicate flavour without the heavy richness which belongs to the ordinary field mushroom. The writer has prevailed on many persons to try it; all without exception have liked it, many have thought it quite equal, and some have proclaimed it superior, to the common mushroom.

Modes of Cooking the Agaricus procerus.—Broiled Procerus.—Remove the scales and stalks from the agarics, and broil lightly over a clear fire on both sides for a few minutes; arrange them on a dish over fresh-made, well-divided toast; sprinkle with pepper and salt, and put a small piece of butter on each; set before a brisk fire to melt the butter, and serve up quickly.

If the cottager would toast his bacon over the broiled mushrooms, the butter would be saved.

Agarics delicately Stewed.—Remove the stalks and scales from young half-grown agarics, and throw each one as you do so into a basin of fresh water slightly acidulated with the juice of a lemon, or a little good vinegar. When all are prepared, remove them from the water, and put them into a stew-pan with a very small piece of fresh butter. Sprinkle with white pepper and salt, and add a little lemon-juice; cover up closely, and stew for half an hour. Then add a spoonful of flour, with sufficient cream, or cream and milk, until the whole has the thickness of cream. Season to taste, and stew again gently until the agarics are perfectly tender. Remove all the butter from the surface, and serve in a hot dish, garnished with slices of lemon.

A little mace, nutmeg, or ketchup may be added; but there are those who think that spice spoils the mushroom flavour.

Cottager’s Procerus Pie.—Cut fresh agarics in small pieces, and cover the bottom of a pie-dish. Pepper, salt, and place them on small shreds of fresh bacon, then put in a layer of mashed potatoes, and so fill the dish, layer by layer, with a cover of mashed potatoes for the crust. Bake well for half an hour, and brown before a quick fire.

A la ProvenÇale.—“Steep for two hours in some salt, pepper, and a little garlic; then toss in a small stew-pan over a brisk fire, with parsley chopped, and a little lemon-juice.”—Dr. Badham.

Agaric Ketchup.—Place agarics of as large a size as you can procure, but which are not worm-eaten, layer by layer, in a deep pan, sprinkling each layer as it is put in with a little salt. The next day stir them well up several times, so as to mash and extract their juice. On the third day strain off the liquor, measure, and boil for ten minutes, and then to every pint of the liquor add half an ounce of black pepper, a quarter of an ounce of bruised ginger-root, a blade of mace, a clove or two, and a tea-spoonful of mustard-seed. Boil again for half an hour; put in two or three bay leaves, and set aside till quite cold. Pass through a strainer, and bottle; cork well, and dip the ends in resin. A very little Chili vinegar is an improvement, and some add a glass of port wine, or a glass of strong ale to every bottle.

Care should be taken that the spice is not added so abundantly as to overpower the true flavour of the agaric. A careful cook will keep back a little of the simple boiled liquor to guard against this danger: a good one will always avoid it. “Doctors weigh their things,” said a capital cook, “but I go by taste.” But then, like poets, good cooks of this order must be born so; they are not to be made.

Coprinus comatus (the Maned Agaric).

Pileus cylindrical, obtuse, campanulate, fleshy in the centre, but very thin towards the margin. The external surface soon torn up into fleecy scales, with the exception of a cap at the top. Gills free, linear, and crowded. Quite white when young, becoming rose-coloured, sepia, and then black, from the margin upwards. They then expand quickly, curl up in shreds, and deliquesce into a black inky fluid which stains the ground. Stem of a pure white, four to five inches high, contracting at the top, and bulbous at the base; hollow, fibrillose, stuffed with a light cottony web. The bulb is solid and rooting, the ring is movable.

This very elegant agaric has also been called Ag. cylindricus, Schoeff; Ag. typhoides, Bull; and Ag. fimetarius, Bolt. It is common throughout the summer and autumn months, on road-sides, pastures, and waste places. It is extremely variable in size. Its general appearance is so distinct and striking, that it cannot possibly be mistaken for any other agaric. It grows so abundantly on waste ground in the dwellings and farm-yards that it may be, says Dr. Bull, called the “agaric of civilization;” and for both these reasons it is most valuable as an edible agaric. If its merits were known, it would be eaten as freely as the common field mushroom.

“The maned mushrooms,” Miss Plues has well said, “grow in dense clusters, each young plant like an attenuated egg, white and smooth. Presently some exceed the others in rapidity of growth, and their heads get above the ground, the stem elongates rapidly, the ring falls loosely round the stem, the margin of the pileus enlarges, and the oval head assumes a bell-shape; then a faint tint of brown spreads universally or in blotches over the upper part of the pileus, and the whiteness of its gills changes to a dull pink. A few more hours and the even head of the pileus has split in a dozen places, the sections curl back, melt out of all form into an inky fluid, and on the morrow’s dawn a black stain on the ground will be all that remains. And so on with the others in succession.”

Opinions on the Merits of Coprinus comatus as an Edible Fungus.—“Esculent when young.”—Berkeley.

“Young specimens should be selected.”—Badham.

“No despicable dish, though perhaps not quite equal to the common mushroom.”—M. C. Cooke.

“If I had my choice, I think there is no species I should prefer before this one: it is singularly rich, tender, and delicious.”—Worthington G. Smith.

Dr. M‘Cullough, Dr. Chapman, Elmes Y. Steele, Esq., and some other members of the Woolhope Club, hold Mr. W. G. Smith’s opinion as the result of considerable experience. It must be noted, however, that when too young this agaric is rather deficient in flavour, and its fibres tenacious. Its flavour is most rich, and its texture most delicate when the gills show the pink colour with sepia margins.

Modes of Cooking the Coprinus comatus.—The best and simplest method is to broil it and serve on toast in the ordinary way. It may be added also with great advantage to steaks and made-dishes, to give flavour and gravy.

Comatus Soup.—Take two quarts of white stock, and put in a large plateful of the maned agaric roughly broken out; stew until tender; pulp through a fine sieve; add pepper and salt to taste; boil and serve up hot. Two or three table-spoonfuls of cream will be a great improvement.

The agarics for this soup should be young, in order to keep its colour light and good. The maned agaric is recommended on all sides for making ketchup, but here, also, it should be quickly used, and the ketchup quickly made.

Agaricus gambosus (the True St. George’s Mushroom).

Pileus thick and fleshy, convex at first, often lobed, becoming undulated and irregular, expanding unequally; the margin more or less involute, and at first flocculose; from three to four inches across; of a light yellow colour in the centre, fading to almost opaque white at the edges; it is soft to the touch; more or less tuberculated, and often presenting cracks. Gills yellowish-white, watery, narrow, marginate, annexed to the stem with a little tooth: they are very numerous and irregular, with many smaller ones interposed, “lying over each other like the plaits of a frill” (from 5 to 11, Vittadini). Stem firm, solid and white, swelling at the base in young specimens; but in older ones, though usually bulging, they are frequently of even size, and when in long grass they occasionally even taper downwards. This agaric is usually nearly white, smooth, soft, and firm, like kid leather to the touch, and, as Berkeley has happily said, “in appearance it very closely resembles a cracknel biscuit.”

They grow in rings; have a strong smell, and appear about St. George’s Day (April 23), after the rains which usually fall about the third week in April. They continue to appear for three or four weeks, according to the peculiarities of the season. They are usually to be found on hilly pastures in woodland districts.

The St. George’s mushroom cannot well be mistaken for any other. The fact of its appearance at this early season, and growing so freely in rings, when so very few other funguses are to be found, is almost enough to distinguish it. It has, however, very distinctive characters in itself in the thickness of its pileus; the narrowness of its gills, which are very closely crowded together; and the solid bulging stem.

The St. George’s mushroom is not an uncommon agaric in this country, and where it does appear it is usually plentiful—a single ring affording generally a good basket full. It should be gathered when young, or it will be found grub-eaten, for no fungus is more speedily and more voraciously attacked by insects than this one.

Opinions on the Merits of Agaricus gambosus as an Edible Fungus.—“This rare and most delicious agaric, the mouceron of Bulliard, and the Agaricus prunulus of other authors, abounds on the hills above the valley of Staffora, near Bobbio, where it is called Spinaroli, and is in great request; the country people eat it fresh in a variety of ways, or they dry and sell it at from twelve to sixteen francs a pound.”—Letter from Professor Balbi to Persoon.

“The most savoury fungus with which I am acquainted ... and which is justly considered over almost the whole continent of Europe as the ne plus ultra of culinary friandise.

“The prunulus (gambosus) is much prized in the Roman market, where it easily fetches, when fresh, thirty baiocchi—i.e., fifteen pence per pound—a large sum for any luxury in Rome. It is sent in little baskets as presents to patrons, fees to medical men, and bribes to Roman lawyers.”—Dr. Badham.

The Agaricus gambosus “is one that a person cannot well make any mistake about. It sometimes attains a large size, is excellent in flavour, and particularly wholesome.”—Rev. M. J. Berkeley.

Mode of Cooking Agaricus gambosus.—“The best mode of cooking Agaricus gambosus is either to mince or fricassee it with any sort of meat, or in a vol-au-vent, the flavour of which it greatly improves; or simply prepared with salt, pepper, and a small piece of bacon, lard, or butter, to prevent burning, it constitutes of itself an excellent dish.”—Dr. Badham. “Served with white sauce, it is a capital appendage to roast veal.”—Edwin Lees. It may be broiled, stewed, or baked.

Breakfast Agaric.—Place some fresh-made toast, nicely divided, on a dish, and put the agarics upon it; pepper, salt, and put a small piece of butter on each; then pour on each one a tea-spoonful of milk or cream, and add a single clove to the whole dish. Place a bell-glass, or inverted basin, over the whole; bake twenty minutes, and serve up without removing the glass until it comes to the table, so as to preserve the heat and the aroma, which, on lifting the cover, will be diffused through the room. It dries very readily when divided into pieces, and retains most of its excellence. A few pieces added to soups, gravies, or made-dishes, give a delicious flavour.

Agaricus rubescens (Brown Warty Agaric).

Pileus convex, then expanded, cuticle brown, scattered over with warts varying in size. Margin striate. Gills white, reaching the stem, and forming very fine decurrent lines upon it. Ring entire, wide and marked with striÆ. Stem often scaly, stuffed, becoming hollow; when old, bulbous. Volva obliterated. The whole plant has a tendency to turn a sienna-red, or rust colour. This is very distinctly shown some little time after it has been bruised.

It is very common all through the summer and autumn months; indeed, one of the most abundant mushrooms; “and it is one of those species that a person with the slightest powers of discrimination may distinguish accurately from others.”—Badham.

Opinions on the Merits of Agaricus rubescens as an Edible Fungus.—“A very delicate fungus, which grows in sufficient abundance to render it of importance in a culinary point of view.”—Badham.

“From long experience I can vouch for its being not only wholesome, but, as Dr. Badham says, ‘a very delicate fungus.’”—F. Currey, Editor of Dr. Badham’s “Esculent Funguses.”

Modes of Cooking the Agaricus rubescens.—It may be toasted, boiled, or stewed in the ordinary way.

Fried Rubescens.—Place the full-grown agarics in water for ten minutes, then drain, and having removed the warty skin, fry with butter, pepper, and salt. The ketchup made from Agaricus rubescens is rich and good. “As it grows freely, and attains a considerable size, it is very suitable for that purpose, quantity being a great desideratum in ketchup-making.”—Plues.

Agaricus nebularis (Clouded Mushroom).

“Pileus from two and a half to five inches across; at first depresso-convex; when expanded, nearly flat or broadly subumbonate; never depressed; margin at first involute and pruinose; occasionally somewhat waved and lobed, but generally regular in form; smooth, viscid when moist, so that dead leaves adhere to it; grey, brown at the centre, paler towards the circumference. Flesh thick, white, unchanging. Gills cream-colour, narrow, decurrent, close, their margins waved, unequal, generally simple. Stem from two to four inches long, from a quarter of an inch to an inch thick; incurved at the base; not rooting, but attaching by means of a floccose down round its lower portion and for one-third of its length, a large quantity of dead leaves, by which the plant is held erect; subequal, more or less marked with longitudinal pits, firm externally, within of a softer substance. The odour strong, like that of curd cheese.”—Badham.

“Common in certain places, but very rare near London. This species comes up late in the autumn on dead leaves in moist places, principally on the borders of woods. The gastronomic excellences of this species are well known. When gathered, it has a wholesome and powerful odour; and when cooked, the firm and fragrant flesh has a particularly agreeable and palatable taste.”—W. G. Smith.

“The Agaricus nebularis requires but little cooking; a few minutes’ broiling (À la Maintenon is best), with butter, pepper, and salt, is sufficient. It may also be delicately fried with bread crumbs, or stewed in white sauce. The flesh of this mushroom is perhaps lighter of digestion than that of any other.”—Badham.

Lactarius deliciosus (Orange-milk Mushroom).

Pileus smooth, fleshy, umbilicate, of a dull rufous orange, turning pallid from exposure to light and air, but zoned with concentric circles of a brighter hue; margin smooth, at first involute, and then becoming expanded; from three to five inches across. Flesh firm full of orange-red milk, which turns green on exposure to the air, as does any part of the plant when bruised. Gills decurrent, narrow, each dividing into two, three several times from the stem to the edge of the pileus; of a dull yellow by reflected light, but being translucent, the red milk shines brightly through them. Stem from one to three inches high, slightly bent and tapering downwards; solid, becoming more or less hollow with age; short hairs at the base; sometimes pitted (scrobiculate).

There is no possibility of mistaking this fungus. It is the only one which has orange-red milk, and which turns green when bruised. These properties distinguish it at once from Lactarius torminosus or necator, the only fungus which in any way resembles it.

This acrid fungus (Lactarius torminosus) is somewhat similar in shape and size, and is also zoned. But the involute edges of the pileus are bearded with close hairs. It is of a much paler colour, and with gills of a dirty white. The milk, also, is white, acrid, and unchangeable in colour.

The Orange-milk agaric chiefly affects the Scotch fir-tree, and is generally to be found beneath the drip of the branches around the tree. It is also found in hedgerows occasionally, but is most abundant in plantations of Scotch fir or larch.

Opinions on the Merits of Lactarius deliciosus as an Edible Fungus.—“This is one of the best agarics with which I am acquainted, fully deserving both its name and the estimation in which it is held abroad, it reminds me of tender lambs’ kidneys.”—Dr. Badham.

“Very luscious eating, full of rich gravy, with a little of the flavour of mussels.”—Sowerby.

“Cook them well, and you will have something better than kidneys, which they much resemble both in flavour and consistence.”—Mrs. Hussey.

Modes of Cooking Lactarius deliciosus.—“The rich gravy it produces is its chief characteristic, and hence it commends itself to make a rich gravy sauce, or as an ingredient in soups. It requires delicate cooking, for though fleshy it becomes tough if kept on the fire till all the juice is exuded. Baking is perhaps the best process for this agaric to pass through. It should be dressed when fresh and pulpy.”—Edwin Lees.

Stewed Deliciosus.—“The tourtiÈre (or pie-dish) method of cooking suits Lactarius deliciosus best, as it is firm and crisp in substance. Be careful to use only sound specimens. Reduce them by cutting across to one uniform bulk. Place the pieces in a pie-dish, with a little pepper and salt, and a small piece of butter on each side of every slice. Tie a paper over the dish, and bake gently for three-quarters of an hour. Serve them up in the same hot dish.”—Mrs. Hussey.

Deliciosus Pie.—Pepper and salt slices of the agaric, and place them in layers with thin slices of fresh bacon, until a small pie-dish is full; cover with a crust of pastry or mashed potatoes, and bake gently for three-quarters of an hour. If with potato crust, brown nicely before a quick fire.

Deliciosus Pudding.—Cut the agaric into small pieces; add similar pieces of bacon, pepper, and salt, and a little garlic or spice; surround with crust, and boil three-quarters of an hour.

Fried Deliciosus.—Fry in slices, properly seasoned with butter, or bacon and gravy; and serve up hot with sippets of toast. A steak in addition is a great improvement.

Morchella esculenta (the Morel).

Every one knows the Morel—that expensive luxury which the rich are content to procure at great cost from our Italian warehouses, and the poor are fain to do without. It is less generally known that this fungus, though by no means so common with us as some others (a circumstance partly attributable to the prevailing ignorance as to when and where to look for it, or even of its being indigenous to England), occurs not unfrequently in our orchards and woods, towards the beginning of summer. Roques reports favourably of some specimens sent to him by the Duke of Athol; and others, from different parts of the country, occasionally find their way into Covent Garden Market. The genus Morchella comprises very few species, and they are all good to eat. Persoon remarks, that though the Morel rarely appears in a sandy soil, preferring a calcareous or argillaceous ground, it frequently springs up on sites where charcoal has been burnt, or where cinders have been thrown.

Pileus very various in shape and hue, the surface broken-up into very little cells, made by folds or plaits of the hymenium, which are more or less salient, and constitute the so-called ribs. These ribs are very irregular, and anastomose with each other throughout; the pileus hollow, opening into the irregular stem. Spores pale yellow. Neither of these funguses should be gathered after rain, as they are then insipid and soon spoil.

“M. Roques says the Morel may be dressed in a variety of ways, both fresh and dry, with butter or in oil, au gras or À la crÊme. The following receipts for cooking them are from Persoon. 1st. Having washed and cleansed them from the earth which is apt to collect between the plaits, dry thoroughly in a napkin, and put them into a saucepan with pepper, salt, and parsley, adding or not a piece of ham; stew for an hour, pouring in occasionally a little broth to prevent burning; when sufficiently done, bind with the yolk of two or three eggs, and serve on buttered toast. 2nd. Morelles À l’Italienne.—Having washed and dried, divide them across, put them on the fire with some parsley, scallion, chervil, burnet, tarragon, chives, a little salt, and two spoonfuls of fine oil. Stew till the juice runs out, then thicken with a little flour; serve with bread-crumbs and a squeeze of lemon. 3rd. Stuffed Morels.—Choose the freshest and whitest morels, open the stalk at the bottom, wash and wipe them well, fill with veal stuffing, anchovy, or any rich farce you please, securing the ends, and dressing between thin slices of bacon; serve with a sauce like the last.”—Badham.

Hygrophorus pratensis.

“Pileus convexo-plane, then turbinate, smooth, moist; disc compact, gibbous; margin thin; stem stuffed, even, attenuated downwards; gills deeply decurrent, arcuate, thick, distant.”—Grev. t. 91; Huss. II. t. 40.

“On downs and short pastures. Very common. Pileus tawny or deep buff, sometimes nearly white, as in the next. Probably esculent.”—Berkeley.

Hygrophorus virgineus (Viscid White Mushroom).

“Pileus fleshy, convexo-plane, obtuse, moist, at length areolato-rimose; stem stuffed, firm, short, attenuated at the base; gills decurrent, distant, rather thick.”—Grev. t. 166. “On downs and short pastures. Extremely common. Mostly pure ivory-white.”—Berkeley.

This species, exquisite in form and flavour, is one of the prettiest ornaments of our lawns, downs, and short pastures at the fall of the year. In these situations it may be found in every part of the kingdom. It is essentially waxy, and feels and looks precisely as if made of the purest virgin wax. The stem is firm, stuffed, and attenuated, and the gills singularly distant from each other; it changes colour a little when getting old, at which time it is unfit for culinary purposes.

A batch of fresh specimens, broiled or stewed with taste and care, will prove agreeable, succulent, and flavorous eating, and may sometimes be obtained when other species are not forthcoming.

“Several allied species enjoy the reputation of being esculent, notably H. niveus; and my friend Mr. F. C. Penrose has eaten, and speaks favourably of H. psittacinus—a highly ornamental yellow species, with a green stem, sometimes common enough in rich pastures (and said to be very suspicious).”—W. G. Smith.

Cantharellus cibarius (Chantarelle).

When young its stalk is tough, white, and solid; but as it grows this becomes hollow and presently changes to yellow; tapering below, it is effused into the substance of the pileus, which is of the same colour with it. The pileus is lobed, and irregular in shape; its margin at first deeply involute, afterwards when expanded, wavy. The veins or plaits are thick, subdistant, much sinuated, running some way down the stalk. The flesh is white, fibrous, dense, “having the odour of apricots” (Purton) or of “plums” (Vitt.). “The colour yellow, like that of the yolk of eggs, is deeper on the under surface; when raw it has the pungent taste of pepper: the spores, which are elliptic, are of a pallid ochre colour.” (Vitt.) The Chantarelle grows sometimes sporadically, sometimes in circles or segments of a circle, and may be found from June to October. At first it assumes the shape of a minute cone: next, in consequence of the rolling in of the margin, the pileus is almost spherical, but as this unfolds it becomes hemispherical, then flat, at length irregular and depressed.

“This fungus,” observes Vittadini, “being rather dry and tough by nature, requires a considerable quantity of fluid sauce to cook it properly.” “The common people in Italy dry or pickle, or keep it in oil for winter use. Perhaps the best ways of dressing the Chantarelle are to stew or mince it by itself, or to combine it with meat or with other funguses. It requires to be gently stewed, and a long time to make it tender; but by soaking it in milk the night before, less cooking will be requisite.”—Badham.

Hydnum repandum (Hedgehog, or Spine-bearing Mushroom).

Pileus smooth, irregular in shape, depressed in the centre, more or less lobed, and generally placed irregularly on the stem (eccentric); of a pale buff or cinnamon colour; from two to five inches in diameter. Flesh firm and white; when bruised it turns slightly brown. Spines crowded, awl-shaped, slanting, soft and brittle, varying in size and length, and of a faint cinnamon tint. Stem white, short, solid, crooked, and often lateral.

There is no possibility of mistaking the hedgehog mushroom: when once seen it is always to be remembered. Its awl-shaped spines are crowded beneath the pileus; its size and colour are most marked; it resembles closely, as has been said, a lightly-baked cracknel biscuit in colour.

“This fungus occurs principally in woods, and especially in those of pine and oak; sometimes solitary, but more frequently in company and in rings.”—Badham.

Opinions on the Merits of Hydnum repandum as an Edible Fungus.—“The general use of this fungus throughout France, Italy, and Germany, leaves no room for doubt as to its good qualities.”—Roques.

“When well stewed it is an excellent dish, with a slight flavour of oysters. It makes also a very good purÉe.—Dr. Badham.

“A most excellent fungus, but it requires a little caution in preparation for the table. It should be previously steeped in hot water and well drained in a cloth; in which case there is certainly not a more excellent fungus.”—Berkeley.

“A wholesome fungus and not to be despised; but not in the first class as to flavour, requiring the help of condiments. It has the advantage, however, of growing later than most funguses, and may be found up to the middle of November.”—Edwin Lees.

“One of the most excellent fungi that grows; its flavour very strongly resembles oysters.”—The Rev. W. Houghton.

Modes of Cooking Hydnum repandum.—The hedgehog mushroom is dense in structure, and in whatever way it may be cooked, all authorities agree that it must be done slowly at a low temperature until it is tender, and with plenty of stock or white sauce to supply its deficiency in moisture.

Stewed Hydnum.—“Cut the mushrooms in pieces and steep for twenty minutes in warm water; then place in a pan with butter, pepper, salt, and parsley; add beef or other gravy, and simmer for an hour.”—Trans. from M. Roques.

“Stew in a brown or white sauce.”—Mrs. Hussey.

“Cut up in bits about the size of a bean, and stew in white sauce, when it will almost pass off as oyster sauce.”—The Rev. W. Houghton, F.L.S.

Agaricus orcella (Orgelle or Vegetable Sweetbread).

Pileus thin, irregular, depressed in the centre, lobed, with undulated borders, from two to three inches across. In colour clear white, sometimes tinted with pale brown on its prominences, and occasionally with a grey centre or even lightly zoned with grey. Its surface is soft and smooth to the touch, except in wet weather, when it becomes soft and sticky. The flesh is soft, colourless, and unchangeable. Gills crowded, decurrent, at first nearly white, then pinkish grey, taking at length a light brown tint. Spores pale brown. Stem smooth, solid, short, decreasing in size; central when young, but becoming eccentric from the pileus growing irregularly. Odour pleasant, usually compared to that of fresh meal, but Dr. Badham and others think it resembles more closely the smell of cucumber or syringa leaf.

Agaricus prunulus (Plum Mushroom).

Pileus fleshy, compact, at first convex, then expanded, becoming depressed in the centre, irregularly waved, and slightly pruinose; from two to five inches broad; surface dry, soft, white, or sometimes grey. The flesh thick, white, and unchangeable. Gills crowded, deeply decurrent, at first white, then a pale dull flesh-colour, or yellowish brown. Spores pale brown. Stem white, solid, firm, slightly ventricose, an inch or more long, and half an inch thick; naked, often striate, and villose at the base; often eccentric. Odour like that of new meal, but usually too strong to be agreeable.

There has been considerable confusion, writes Dr. Bull, between the two Agarics orcella and prunulus; some thinking that we have only orcella in England (Dr. Badham); and others only prunulus (the Rev. M. J. Berkeley), and others again that they are both the same fungus, differing only in size. Dr. Badham and some others again confuse prunulus with gambosus, the fungus of early spring, and this has arisen from the French term mousseron being often applied to both these funguses; but they are so essentially different as not to be liable in any way to be mistaken for each other. Agaricus orcella and A. prunulus are both placed on the same page in the illustration, so that their close alliance may be seen at a glance. Fries treats them as separate funguses, “in deference to ancient authority, since their differences are chiefly in degree.” These differences are, nevertheless, so well marked, that they are kept separate here. Orcella is a smaller and more delicate fungus than prunulus. It is thinner and less fleshy, more undulated in its borders, and has a lighter and more agreeable odour. Orcella grows in more open glades than prunulus; it is usually much whiter in colour, sometimes in high situations white and glazed as an egg-shell, or even pottery. Orcella grows more solitary than prunulus, in light, scattered groups, showing an inclination for the neighbourhood of oak-trees, and where it does grow it may be found year after year in the same place, but seldom more than two or three in a spot. Last year, 1869, when orcella was pretty plentiful, prunulus was not to be found in the situations where it grows usually most abundantly. Prunulus is the reverse of all this. It prefers more shaded places, is larger, more fleshy, and with a strong odour rather heavy and overpowering. It grows in greater quantities together, and not unfrequently in crowded rings from four to six feet in diameter.

As edible funguses they should certainly be kept distinct. Orcella is light and pleasant in odour, and excellent in flavour: it is so tender and delicate as to be termed, not inaptly, “vegetable sweetbread.” Prunulus, on the other hand, though always good, is to many people too strong in odour, and more coarse in taste.

Opinions on the Merits of Agaricus orcella and A. prunulus.—“A very delicate mushroom.”—Dr. Badham. “The flavour of orcella is very delicate, and equal to anything amongst fungi, or rather superior to the majority. The same remarks apply to prunulus, which I think is the same thing. It belongs to the first rank of edible fungi.”—Edwin Lees.

Modes of Cooking Agaricus orcella and Agaricus prunulus.—Orcella being usually found in small quantities, is best, perhaps, when broiled and served on hot toast. Prunulus will yield an abundance for broiling or stewing, or both. “Orcella should be eaten the day it is gathered, either stewed, broiled, or fried with egg and bread-crumbs like cutlets.”—Dr. Badham. “However prepared, it is most excellent; the flesh is firm and juicy, and full of flavour, and whether broiled or stewed, it is a most delicious morsel.”—Worthington G. Smith. “Orcella will dry, and may be preserved in this way. It loses much of its volume, but it acquires un aroma suavissimo.”—Vittadini. From the Transactions of the Woolhope Naturalists’ Field Club.

Edible Fungi in America.—To give an idea of the rich stores of fungi that spring up in some distant parts of the earth, and in climes so different to ours that one would at first sight suppose such fragile and fugacious bodies as fungi would not abound in them, the following interesting communication from Dr. Curtis, of South Carolina, to the Rev. W. Berkeley is here given. It will prove well worthy the attention of American readers:—

“You have asked me to give you my ‘experience with the eatable mushrooms of America.’ This will be most satisfactorily done, I presume, in pretty much the same style in which I would narrate it to you at your own fireside. My experience runs back only about twelve or fifteen years. You may remember that previous to this period I expressed a fear of these edibles, as I had grown up with the common prejudices against them entertained by most people in this country. Having occasionally read of fearful accidents from their use, and there being abundance of other and wholesome food obtainable, I felt no inclination to run any risks in needlessly enlarging my bill of fare. Thus I had passed middle life without having once even tasted a mushroom.

“But as under your guidance and assistance my knowledge of fungi increased, a confidence in my ability to discriminate species grew up with it, and a curiosity to test the qualities of these much-lauded articles got the better of timidity; and now, I suppose, I can safely say, that I have eaten a greater variety of mushrooms than anyone on the American continent. I have even introduced several species before untried and unknown. From the beginning of my experiments, however, I have exercised great caution, even with species long recognised as safe and wholesome. In every case I began with only a single mouthful. No ill effect following, I made a second essay upon two or three mouthfuls, and so on gradually until I made a full meal of them. Fortunately, I have never blundered upon any kind that was mischievous, although I have eaten freely of forty species. This is due, perhaps, to my general acquaintance with species that have been long used in Europe, and hence I have made no experiments upon new species which had not some affinity or analogy with them.

“For instance, A. campestris and A. arvensis being wholesome, I did not doubt but that A. amygdalinus (a new species closely allied to A. arvensis) might be safely attempted, and it has proved equally safe and palatable. Indeed, this may be regarded as the safest of all species for gathering, as it can be discriminated from all others even by a child or a blind person. Its taste and odour are so very like those of peach kernels or bitter almonds, that almost invariably the resemblance is immediately mentioned by those who taste it crude for the first time. This flavour is lost by cooking, unless the mushroom be underdone. When thoroughly cooked I cannot myself distinguish it from A. campestris. One or two persons have expressed the opinion that they can distinguish it, and that it is not quite so good. Others, again, are equally positive that it is better. In the crude state I deem it the most palatable of all mushrooms, as it leaves a very agreeable aftertaste upon the palate, fully equal to that of almonds. This is the thing I sent you some years since for cultivation, but which failed to grow. I very much wish it might be propagated in England, so that we might ascertain whether it would undergo any change of qualities in a different soil and climate. I have for some time been entertaining the suspicion that such is the case with many of our species. Thus, in European books the Morel is described as possessing a peculiar flavour, that has given its name to the Morello cherry. I can detect nothing of the sort in our morel. You speak of A. CÆsareus (in Introd. Crypt. Bot.) as being ‘perhaps the most delicious of all fungi.’ This grows in great quantities in our oak-forests, and may be obtained by the cartload in its season; but to my taste, and that of all my family, it is the most unpalatable of all our fungi, nor can I find many of our most passionate mycophagists who will avow that they like it. I have tried it in almost every mode of cookery, but without success. There is a disagreeable saline flavour that we cannot remove nor overlay.

“In the Tricholoma section, in which are several species long known as edible, I did not hesitate to experiment upon any that had the odour and taste of fresh flour. I began with A. frumentaceus, not learning from books whether it had been eaten in Europe. To this I subsequently added three new American species belonging to the same group. All are excellent when stewed, and are especially valuable for their appearance in late autumn, even during hard frosts, when other agarics are mostly out of season.

“Again, there seemed such a similarity of texture and habit between A. cÆspitosus (Lentinus, Berk.) and A. melleus, although the former belongs to Clitocybe, that the temptation to a trial of it was irresistible. As it is found here in enormous quantities, and a single cluster will often contain fifty to a hundred stems, it might well be deemed a valuable species in a time of scarcity. It would not be highly esteemed where other and better sorts can be had; but it is generally preferred to A. melleus. I have found this species very suitable for drying for winter use.

“Among the Boleti I ventured, in ignorance if it had ever been eaten, to try B. collinitus, on account of its close relationship with B. flavidus. I am not particularly fond of Boleti, but this species has been pronounced delicious by some to whom I have sent it.

“So among the Polypores, I had no fear of harm from the use of a new American species (P. poripes, Fr.), on account of its relation to P. ovinus, in its texture and its flavour. The taste of the crude specimen is like that of the best chestnuts or filberts. It has been compared even with the cocoa-nut, and is certainly of very agreeable flavour. It does not, however, make a superior dish for the table, being rather too dry, but it is innocent and probably nutritious.

“Of the ‘Merisma’ group of Polypores, having already tried P. frondosus, P. confluens, and P. sulfureus, I ventured, after some hesitation, and with more than usual caution, to test the virtues of a new American species (P. Berkelei, Fr.), notwithstanding the intense pungency of the raw material, which bites as fiercely as Lactarius piperatus. When young, and before the pores are visible, the substance is quite crisp and brittle, and in this state I have eaten it with impunity and with satisfaction, its pungency being all dissipated by stewing. I do not, however, deem it comparable with P. confluens, which is rather a favourite with me, as it is with some others to whom I have introduced it. P. sulfureus is just tolerable; safe, but not to be coveted when one can get better. When I say safe, I mean not poisonous. I cannot recommend it as a diet for weak stomachs, which should be said of some other fungi of similar texture. I am here reminded of an experience I had three or four years ago with this species, which would have greatly alarmed me had it happened at an earlier date in my experiments, and which would probably have deterred anyone unused to this kind of diet from ever indulging in it again. I had a sumptuous dish of it on my supper-table, of which most of my family, as well as a guest staying with us, partook very freely. During the night I became exceedingly sick, and was not relieved until relieved of my supper. My first thought on the accession of my illness was of Polyporus sulfureus; but as I remembered that inflammation was one of the symptoms of fungus-poisoning, and I could detect no indications of this in my case, I soon dismissed the rising fear, did not send for the doctor, nor take any remedy. Others, who had partaken of the fungus more freely than myself were not at all affected; and I presume my sickness was no more induced by the Polyporus than by the bread and butter I had eaten. And yet, had I alone partaken of the dish, or had one or two others been affected in like manner, doubtless the night attack would have been very confidently attributed by some to the mushroom; or had this been my first trial of that article, possibly I might ever after have regarded it with suspicion. I learned a few days afterwards from one of our physicians, that this kind of sickness was then somewhat prevalent in the community, and could be attributed to no known cause. For the credit of this species, therefore, we were fortunately able to distinguish the post hoc from the propter hoc.

“There are families in America that for generations have freely and annually eaten mushrooms, preserving a habit brought from Europe by their ancestors. In no case have I heard of an accident among them. I have known no instance of mushroom-poisoning in this country, except where the victims rashly ventured upon the experiment without knowing one species from another. Among the families above mentioned, I have not met with any whose knowledge of mushrooms extended beyond the common species (A. campestris), called pink gill in this country. Several such families live near me, but not one of them was aware, until I informed them, that there are other edible kinds. Everything but the pink gill, which had the form of a mushroom, was to them a toadstool, and poisonous. When I first sent my son with a fine basket of Imperials (A. CÆsareus), to an intelligent physician, who was extravagantly fond of the common mushroom, the lad was greeted with the indignant exclamation, ‘Boy, I wouldn’t eat one of those things to save your father’s head!’ When told that they were eaten at my table, he accepted them, ate them, and has eaten many a one since, with all safety and with no little relish. Since that time our mycophagists eat whatever I send them, without fear or suspicion.

“I have interested myself to extend the knowledge of these things among the lovers of mushrooms, and also their use among those who have not before tried them. In the latter work I am not always successful, on account of a strong prejudice against vegetables with such contemptible names, and an unconquerable fear of accidents. Yet, as in my own case, curiosity often conquers these errors. When away from home I have frequently obtained permission from a kind hostess to have cooked a dish of mushrooms that I have found on her premises. It has rarely occurred in such cases that the dish, then tasted for the first time, was not declared to be delicious, or the best thing ever put in the mouth. This latter phrase was once used in reference to so indifferent an article as A. salignus. Indeed, I have found several persons who class this amongst the most palatable species. To such persons a dish of fresh mushrooms need seldom be wanting, as this one can be had every month of the year in this latitude. I am induced to believe that the quality of this species varies with the kind of wood it grows from, and that it is better flavoured when gathered from the mulberry, and especially from the hickory, than when taken from most other trees. Its fitness for the table seems also to depend much upon the rapidity of its growth; those which grow slowly, as is the case with some of our garden vegetables, being of tougher texture and of less delicate flavour. A warm sun after heavy rains brings them out in greatest perfection.

“I have several times been asked by persons eating mushrooms for the first time, whether these things belong to the vegetable or animal kingdom. There is certainly a very noticeable resemblance in the flavour of some of them to that of flesh, fish, or mollusc, so that the question, as founded merely on taste, is not an unnatural one. But I was much struck with its propriety when reading an article in ‘Fraser’s Magazine,’ a few years since, written by the late Mr. Broderip, who therein says that mushrooms contain osmazome. If this be so, it accounts both for their flavour and for their value as food. Of this latter quality I had become so well convinced that, during our late war, I sometimes averred, and I doubt if there was much, if any, exaggeration in the assertion, that in some parts of the country I could maintain a regiment of soldiers five months of the year upon mushrooms alone.

“This leads to a remark which should not be overlooked, upon the great abundance of eatable mushrooms in the United States. I think it is Dr. Badham who boasts of their unusual number in Great Britain, stating that there are thirty edible species in that kingdom. I cannot help thinking that this is an under-estimate. But if the Doctor is correct, there is no comparison between the number in your country and this. I have collected and eaten forty species found within two miles of my house. There are some others within this limit which I have not yet eaten. In the catalogue of the plants of North Carolina, you will notice that I have indicated one hundred and eleven species of edible fungi known to inhabit this State. I have no doubt there are forty or fifty more, as the alpine portion of the State, which is very extensive and varied, has been very little explored in search of fungi.

“In October, 1866, while on the Cumberland Mountains in Tennessee, a plateau less than 1000 feet above the valleys below, although having very little leisure for examination during the two days spent there, I counted eighteen species of edible fungi. Of the four or five species which I collected there for the table, all who partook of them, none of whom had before eaten mushrooms, most emphatically declared them delicious. On my return homeward, while stopping for a few hours at a station in Virginia, I gathered eight good species within a few hundred yards of the dÉpÔt. And so it seems to be throughout the country. Hill and plain, mountain and valley, woods, fields, and pastures, swarm with a profusion of good, nutritious fungi, which are allowed to decay where they spring up, because people do not know how, or are afraid, to use them. By those of us who know their use their value was appreciated, as never before, during our late war, when other food, especially meat, was scarce and dear. Then such persons as I have heard express a preference for mushrooms over meat had generally no need to lack grateful food, as it was easily had for the gathering, and within easy distance of their homes if living in the country. Such was not always the case, however. I remember on one occasion during the gloomy period, when there had been a protracted drought, and fleshy fungi were to be found only in damp, shaded woods, and but few even there, I was unable to find enough of any one species for a meal; so gathering of every kind, I brought home thirteen different kinds, had them all cooked together in one grand pot pourri, and made an excellent supper. Among these was the Chantarelle, upon which I would say a few words in confirmation of what I have already said upon the varying qualities of mushrooms in different regions and localities. You have somewhere written of this mushroom as being so highly esteemed a delicacy, that it is much sought for when a dinner of state is given in London. Can this be because it is a rarity? (for nothing common and easily obtained is deemed a delicacy, I believe), or because you have it of finer flavour in England? Here, where it abounds, no one seems to care at all for it, and some would forego mushrooms entirely rather than eat this. It certainly varies much in quality, as I have occasionally found it quite palatable, and again, though cooked in the same mode, very indifferent. I have been unable to ascertain whether this difference is due to locality, exposure, shade, soil, moisture, or temperature. That soil has much to do with the flavour of some species of mushrooms I am well convinced. In a parcel of pink gills I have sometimes found one or two specimens, though perfectly sound, of such unpleasant odour and taste as would spoil a whole dish. So also with the snowball (A. arvensis), of which I annually find a few beautiful specimens growing near my residence, upon a grassy turf which covers a pile of trash made up of decomposed sticks, leaves, and scrapings from the adjoining soil. Their taste and odour are perfectly detestable. I had one specimen cooked, but no amount of seasoning could abate the offensiveness of the odious thing; yet within a hundred yards of these I gather specimens of the same identical species, which are of fine flavour, equal to that of the best mushrooms. As I have before intimated the varying flavour of mushrooms growing on different kinds of wood, so here I suppose the unpleasant qualities of some specimens of these two well-known and favourite species, may be owing to something in the soil where they grow which they cannot assimilate, and so render a palatable and wholesome species totally unfit for the table. Whether such specimens, if eaten, would be poisonous or unwholesome, I do not feel any temptation to prove. It is not probable that they will ever do any mischief, for it is incredible that any human being should so pervert his instincts as to swallow such a villanous concoction.

“Experience and observations like these would perhaps justify the inference that an innocent species may sometimes be deleterious, on account of its taking up some bad element from the soil. But as I have never known a case of poisoning in families that are well acquainted with the common mushroom or pink gill, that gather the specimens for themselves, and have used this article of food annually for many generations, I cannot agree with a suggestion somewhere made by you, that perhaps all mushrooms contain a poisonous element, but some of them in such small quantity as to have no appreciable effect. Now, had you seen the quantities of stewed mushrooms swallowed at a single meal which I have seen thus devoured, and with no more harm than from the same amount of oyster or turtle soup, I think you would be forced to the conclusion that such an amount, even of poisonous infinitesimals, must have had some very unpleasant manifestations, or else be a very innocent diet.

“It is said that the sale of the pink gill (A. campestris) is forbidden in the Italian markets, because that species has often proved to be poisonous. May not this have been occasioned by ignorant and careless collectors or by worthless inspectors? To us in America, who use this species so freely and fearlessly, the Italian’s curse, ‘May he die of a Pratiolo!’ would have no more terror than ‘May he die of aromatic pain.’

“Our best and standard mushrooms are the pink-gill (A. campestris); snowball (A. arvensis); peach-kernel (A. amygdalinus); nut (A. procerus); French (A. prunulus); morel (M. esculenta); coral (Clavaria); and omelette (Lycoperdon giganteum). These are almost universally in high esteem. Yet tastes differ on these things as on fruits and vegetables; some putting one, some another, at the head of the list, though fond of all and ever ready to use any of them—as one who prefers a peach may yet relish an apple. There are some among us who regard A. procerus as fully equal to A. campestris, and I am almost of the same opinion. When broiled or fried it truly makes a luscious morsel. I mention in this connexion, that this species here bears the name of nut mushroom, from a quality that I do not find mentioned in the books which describe it. The stem when fresh and young has a sweet nutty flavour, very similar to that of the hazel nut. Is this the case with you? Its flavour is so agreeable that I am fond of chewing the fresh stems. From this peculiarity in connexion with its movable ring, its form and colours, I deem it a perfectly safe species to recommend for collecting. We have no species likely to be mistaken for it, except A. rachodes, and I fully tested the innocence of this before commending the first to others. This has been suspected by some, but I have found it harmless. Though pretty well flavoured, it is not comparable with A. procerus, and the flesh is so thin and spongy that no one would choose it when those of more compact texture are to be had. A. excoriatus, of the same group, is a much preferable species.

“The Morel is one of my greatest favourites, but this is not found in quantity except in calcareous districts. A few days since (April 21) I had a dozen for supper, the largest number I ever had at one time.

“The Lycoperdon giganteum is also a great favourite with me, as it is, indeed, with all my acquaintances who have tried it. It has not the high aroma of some others, but it has a delicacy of flavour that makes it superior to any omelette I have ever eaten. It seems, furthermore, to be so digestible as to adapt it to the most delicate stomachs. This is the South Down of mushrooms.

“In this latitude (about 36 degrees) we can find good mushrooms for the table during nine or ten months of the year. Including A. salignus, which some are quite fond of, we can have them in every month, as this species comes out during any warm spell in winter. A. campestris makes its appearance here as early as March, but is not in full crop until September. Several excellent species of the Tricholoma group do not spring up until after frost sets in, and continue into December. Such is the case too with Boletus collinitus, which sometimes emerges from the earth frozen solid.

“These observations and experiences are confined chiefly to the Carolinas; though I presume, from casual observations elsewhere, and from information derived from correspondents in other States, that, making some allowance for difference of climate and length of seasons, what I have said is generally applicable to the whole country.”

The following interesting paper from the Rev. J. D. La Touche was read at a meeting of the Woolhope Naturalists’ Field Club:—

“It is said that at Rome, when a mortal is about to be raised to the dignity of sainthood, the precaution is taken of providing a ‘devil’s advocate,’ who, by pointing out as strongly as he can all the faults of the candidate, secures the fair discussion of both sides of the question, and is a guarantee, moreover, that no unworthy aspirant to such exalted honours should be rashly admitted to them.

“On the present occasion I make bold to present myself in this unamiable capacity. No member, indeed, of this respected Club is seeking canonization, yet, a step not less important is contemplated in the enrolment of a hitherto despised and even abhorred member of the vegetable kingdom among the list of its edible products; indeed, some may consider such a step as of more importance to our race than the apotheosis of a peccant mortal; and therefore it would appear that, if in the one instance it is desirable that all the peccadilloes of the candidate should be exposed, a fortiori, it must be so in the other.

“Let me, then, first observe that these gentlemen at the bar have actually a very bad character, and that it is not likely that this would be the case unless they were really great sinners.

“Here, some will exclaim, no doubt, ‘Prejudice, my dear sir! vulgar prejudice is capable of the grossest injustice—ignorant prejudice has driven from our tables a delicious article of food, and deprived the poor of a wholesome diet.’ It is often said that he was a brave man who first ate an oyster, and truly a more uninviting mouthful than it was could scarcely be imagined; and yet the fact that it is good and wholesome soon disposed of any prejudice against it. And is it not likely that such would be the case, were the fungus tribe fit for human food? Can we suppose any prejudice arising from their leathery looks would not evaporate like mists before the morning sun, were they really the nutritious and delicious dainties they are described to be by their enthusiastic advocates?

“I think it may be observed that the general character which a man bears is, on the whole, a true one. That big school, the world in which we live, contrives, in some way or other, to hit off pretty accurately our average merit and take our measure, and though it may make a mistake now and then in some particular instance, its general estimate is a fair one; and so with funguses. There may be a too-sweeping condemnation of all kinds of them: nay, it may be even probable that Agaricus campestris is not the best that grows, and yet, after all, the prevalent distrust of the tribe is well founded.

“When, e.g., some family in a parish is known to have been poisoned by eating a wrong sort, it is not surprising, nor can it be called stupid prejudice, if their neighbours are ever after rather shy of the article of food which produced that result. But it will be said that the mischief arose from ignorance—had that family known the marks that distinguish between the wholesome and the poisonous kinds this would never have taken place. If ever there was a case in which ignorance was bliss, surely this is it. A short time ago, I accompanied a scientific friend in a foray among the funguses, which we made with a special view to the improvement of our intended repast, and was on that occasion struck with the elaborate precautions which seemed to be necessary to observe in discriminating the good from the bad. It would almost seem that Nature had purposely contrived a labyrinth of ingenious stumbling-blocks to guard this mysterious product from the insatiable appetites of mankind; and so it came to pass after all, my good friend—who really seemed well up in the subject, and who found at every turn some well-known test of wholesomeness or otherwise to guide him in the specimens we collected—wound up the day by nearly poisoning a member of my family: for he had, it appears, mistaken Boletus flavus, a violent poison, for the very similar but wholesome and excellent Boletus luteus—the only difference being that the pores of the one are somewhat smaller and less angular than those of the other. Surely, in this instance, knowledge (and it was not in his case a little knowledge either) was a dangerous thing.

“But still it may be said that there are species the characters of which are sufficiently well-defined, and that from these, at least, the stigma ought to be removed. But even so, I would submit one or two questions to those who may be inclined to admit this. 1st. Is it so clear that a fungus which agrees with one person may not be very injurious to another? One man has, to use a vulgar expression, the stomach of a horse. Can I, an average mortal, calculate on possessing such a treasure? I saw with my own eyes my scientific friend eat and swallow an entire Boletus flavus, raw, without any apparent bad effects either that evening or the following day, whereas a small portion of the same kind, cooked too (I cannot, however, say secundum artem), produced violent sickness on another individual, who, moreover, had never before experienced sickness; indeed, this fact would seem to suggest that the stomach may be ‘educated’ by long habit to bear this noxious food, and, therefore, that its evil effects (harmless upon organs well trained) happen when the experimentum in corpore vili is tried. My friend assures me that he has eaten the highly poisonous Boletus satanas with no worse effect than a little indigestion the next morning. Can, I would ask, the experience of such a seasoned digestive apparatus as his be any guide to those who have not gone through the course of training which he has?

“Again, may it not be possible that the same kind of fungus which in some instances is wholesome, may, if grown under different circumstances, and supplied with different nutriment, assume very different properties? And again, are we competent to judge of the wholesomeness of a particular article of food unless it is tried by a very large number of persons—unless it be ‘exhibited,’ to use a medical term, on a great variety of constitutions? Indeed, is there not some ground for thinking that such an exhibition would be in many instances far from satisfactory?

“On the whole, it would appear that the advice of an eminent physician, an ardent admirer of the fungus, was good and sound. When he heard of the escape my family had on this occasion, he said that this article of diet should be partaken of with ‘great caution.’ And by the way, is not this itself a very suspicious expression? ‘Great caution!’ If I am introduced to a gentleman, and told at the same time that I must conduct myself towards him with ‘great caution’ or he will probably do me some deadly mischief, it would hardly be thought a very hearty and promising introduction; yet here we are told that this excellent family to which we are so warmly introduced has some members belonging to it so villanously disposed, that possibly we may pay for our acquaintance with our lives. This is not very encouraging, and so the course adopted by a young lady who indulges in these experiments, to whom I was speaking the other day, would seem to be a very prudent one. She says she never partakes of these dainties till she has seen the effect they have had upon somebody else! But even so, only picture the ghastly scene which a banquet of this kind would present; each guest looking anxiously into his neighbour’s face, awaiting in terror the contortions which are to show that he has partaken of the fatal dish.”

While Mr. La Touche’s paper should not deter us from using and showing others the value of the quantities of edible fungi now generally allowed to rot in our fields and woods, and nowhere perhaps so abundant as in the pleasure grounds and woods round country seats, yet, as impressing the necessity of using due discrimination in gathering, it may be read with advantage by all.

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