and the
upper cuticle cannot be peeled off. I have tasted this, but it is very
inferior in flavor to the common mushroom.

Experiments in these varieties of fungi are highly dangerous, as many
of the most poisonous so closely resemble the edible species that they
can with difficulty be distinguished. There is one kind of fungus that
I have met with in the forests which, from its offensive odor and
disgusting appearance, should be something superlatively bad. It grows
about four inches high; the top is round, with a fleshy and inflamed
appearance; the stalk is out of all proportion in its thickness, being
about two inches in diameter and of a livid white color; this, when
broken, is full of a transparent gelatinous fluid, which smells like an
egg in the last stage of rottenness.

This fungus looks like an unhealthy excrescence on the face of Nature,
who, as though ashamed of the disgusting blemish, has thrown a veil
over the defect. The most exquisite fabric that can be imagined--a
scarlet veil, like a silken net--falls over this ugly fungus, and,
spreading like a tent at its base, it is there attached to the ground.

The meshes of this net are about as fine as those of a very delicate
silk purse, and the gaudiness of the color and the size of the fungus
make it a very prominent object, among the surrounding vegetation. In
fact, it is a diminutive, though perfect circular tent of net-work, the
stem of the fungus forming the pole in the centre.

I shall never forget my first introduction to this specimen. It was
growing in an open forest, free from any underwood, land it seemed like
a fairy bivouac beneath the mighty trees which overshadowed it. Hardly
believing my own eyes at so strange and exquisite a structure, I jumped
off my horse and hastened to secure it. But the net-work once raised
was like the uncovering of the veiled prophet of Khorassan, and the
stem, crushing in my fingers, revealed all the disgusting properties of
the plant, and proved the impossibility of removing it entire. The
elegance of its exterior only served to conceal its character-like
Madame Mantilini, who, when undressed, "tumbled into ruins."

There are two varieties of narcotic fungi whose properties are so mild
that they are edible in small quantities. One is a bright crimson on
the surface; this is the most powerful, and is seldom used. The other
is a white solid puff-ball, with a rough outer skin or rind.

I have eaten the