Mr. Robinson gives an excellent account, not only of the subterranean, but also of the open-air culture of mushrooms about Paris. The open-air culture is never pursued in Paris during the summer, and rarely so in this country.[D] What might be termed the domestic cultivation of mushrooms is easy, that is, the growth by inexperienced persons, for family consumption, of a bed of mushrooms in cellars, wood-houses, old tubs, boxes, or other unconsidered places. Even in towns and cities it is not impracticable, as horse-dung can always be obtained from mews and stables. Certainly fungi are never so harmless, or seldom so delicious, as when collected from the bed, and cooked at once, before the slightest chemical change or deterioration could possibly take place. Mr. Cuthill's advice may be repeated here. He says:--"I must not forget to remind the cottager that it would be a shilling or two a week saved to him during the winter, if he had a good little bed of mushrooms, even for his own family, to say nothing about a shilling or two that he might gain by selling to his neighbours. I can assure him mushrooms grow faster than pigs, and the mushrooms do not eat anything; they only want a little attention. Addressing myself to the working classes, I advise them, in the first place, to employ their children or others collecting horse-droppings along the highway, and if mixed with a little road-sand, so much the better. They must be deposited in a heap during summer, and trodden firmly. They will heat a little, but the harder they are pressed the less they will heat. Over-heating must be guarded against; if the watch or trial stick which is inserted into them gets too hot for the hand to bear, the heat is too great, and will destroy the spawn. In that case artificial spawn must be used when the bed is made up, but this expedient is to be avoided on account of the expense. The easiest way for a cottager to save his own spawn would be to do so when he destroys his old bed; he will find all round the edges or driest parts of the dung one mass of superior spawn; let him keep this carefully in a very dry place, and when he makes up his next bed it can then be mixed with his summer droppings, and will insure a continuance and excellent crop. These little collections of horse-droppings and road-sand, if kept dry in shed, hole, or corner, under cover, will in a short time generate plenty of spawn, and will be ready to be spread on the surface of the bed in early autumn, say by the middle of September or sooner. The droppings during the winter must be put into a heap, and allowed to heat gently, say up to eighty or ninety degrees; then they must be turned over twice daily to let off the heat and steam; if this is neglected the natural spawn of the droppings is destroyed. The cottager should provide himself with a few barrowfuls of strawy dung to form the foundation of his bed, so that the depth, when all is finished, be not less than a foot.