Wherever we encounter decaying vegetable matter we meet with fungi, living upon and at the expense of decay, appropriating the changed elements of previous vegetable life to the support of a new generation, and hastening disintegration and assimilation with the soil. No one can have observed the mycelium of fungi at work on old stumps, twigs, and decayed wood, without being struck with the rapidity and certainty with which disintegration is being carried on. The gardener casts on one side, in a pile as rubbish, twigs and cuttings from his trees, which are useless to him, but which have all derived much from the soil on which they flourished. Shortly fungi make their appearance in species almost innumerable, sending their subtle threads of mycelium deep into the tissues of the woody substance, and the whole mass teems with new life. In this metamorphosis as the fungi flourish so the twigs decay, for the new life is supported at the expense of the old, and together the destroyers and their victims return as useful constituents to the soil from whence they were derived, and form fresh pabulum for a succeeding season of green leaves and sweet flowers. In woods and forests we can even more readily appreciate the good offices of fungi in accelerating the decay of fallen leaves and twigs which surround the base of the parent trees. In such places Nature is left absolutely to her own resources, and what man would accomplish in his carefully attended gardens and shrubberies must here be done without his aid. What we call decay is merely change; change of form, change of relationship, change of composition; and all these changes are effected by various combined agencies--water, air, light, heat, these furnishing new and suitable conditions for the development of a new race of vegetables. These, by their vigorous growth, continue what water and oxygen, stimulated by light and heat, had begun, and as they flourish for a brief season on the fallen glories of the past summer, make preparation for the coming spring.