ated thanks to a too laudatory epithet.

Is a certain degree of consistency required, to suit the grubs:
something midway between the softness of the amanitas and the firmness
of the milk mushrooms? Let us begin by questioning the olive tree agaric
or luminous mushroom (Pleurotus phosphoreus, BATT.), a magnificent
mushroom colored jujube red. Its popular name is not particularly
appropriate. True, it frequently grows at the base of old olive trees,
but I also pick it at the foot of the box, the holm oak, the plum tree,
the cypress, the almond tree, the Guelder rose and other trees and
shrubs. It seems fairly indifferent to the nature of the support. A
more remarkable feature distinguishes it from all the other European
mushrooms: it is phosphorescent. On the lower surface and there only, it
sheds a soft, white gleam, similar to that of the glowworm. It lights
up to celebrate its nuptials and the emission of its spores. There is no
question of chemist's phosphorus here. This is a slow combustion, a
sort of more active respiration than usual. The luminous emission is
extinguished in the unbreathable gases, nitrogen and carbonic acid; it
continues in aerated water; it ceases in water deprived of its air by
boiling. It is exceedingly faint, however, so much so that it is not
perceptible except in the deepest darkness. At night and even by day, if
the eyes have been prepared for it by a preliminary wait in the darkness
of a cellar, this agaric is a wonderful sight, looking indeed like a
piece of the full moon.

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 poisonou