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.’