The Life of the Fly; With Which are Interspersed Some Chapters of AutobiographyFabre, Jean-Henri
Science
The Life of the Fly; With Which are Interspersed Some Chapters of Autobiography
Fabre, Jean-Henri
Diptera; Flies
Now what do the vermin do? Are they drawn by this beacon? In no wise:
maggots, caterpillars and slugs never touch the resplendent mushroom.
Let us not be too quick to explain this refusal by the noxious
properties of the olive tree agaric, which is said to be extremely
poisonous. Here, in fact, on the pebbly ground of the wastelands, is the
eryngo agaric (Pleurotus eryngii, D. C.), which has the same consistency
as the other. It is the berigoulo of the Provencaux, one of the most
highly esteemed mushrooms. Well, the vermin will have none of it: what
is a treat to us is detestable to them.
It is superfluous to continue this method of investigation: the reply
would be everywhere the same. The insect, which feeds on one sort of
mushroom and refuses others, cannot tell us anything about the kinds
that are good or bad for us. Its stomach is not ours. It pronounces
excellent what we find poisonous; it pronounces poisonous what we think
excellent. That being so, when we are lacking in the botanical knowledge
which most of us have neither time nor inclination to acquire, what
course are we to take? The course is extremely simple.
During the thirty years and more that I have lived at Serignan, I have
never heard of one case of mushroom poisoning, even the mildest, in the
village; and yet there are plenty of mushrooms eaten here, especially
in autumn. Not a family but, when on a walk in the mountains, gathers
a precious addition to its modest alimentary resources. What do these
people gather? A little of everything. Often, when rambling in the
neighboring woods, I inspect the baskets of the mushroom pickers, who
are delighted for me to look. I see things fit to make mycological
experts stand aghast. I often find the purple bolete, which is classed
among the dangerous varieties. I made the remark one day. The man
carrying the basket stared at me in astonishment: 'That a poison! The
wolf's bread!' he said, patting the plump bolete with his hand. 'What
an idea! It's beef marrow, sir, regular beef marrow!' [Author's note:
People use them indiscriminately for cooking purposes, after removing
the tubes on the under side, which are easily separated from the rest of
the mushroom.]
He smiled at my apprehensions and went away with a poor opinion of my
knowledge in the matter of mushrooms.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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