AMMA was very fond of mushrooms. I don't mean to say that she was a greedy person or fond of eating, but if she had a weakness, it was for mushrooms. When she was a little girl, she had lived in a country place where they grew in abundance, and she had often told the children how delightful it was to go mushroom gathering, how pretty the creamy-white heads looked, sometimes almost hidden in the grass, like eggs in a mossy nest, and what shrieks of fun and eagerness used to be heard when some specially fine one was suddenly caught sight of.
But Mamma's own children, Lancey and Dick—Mamma was not very rich in children, she had only these two little sturdy boys, Lancey was nine and Dick was seven—had never had the good fortune to live in a mushroom country. All they knew of mushrooms was when they sometimes happened to catch sight of them in the kitchen, when cook had bought a little basket of them, paying very dear for it, no doubt, because "Missis was so partial to them." And there was great rejoicing, as you can fancy, when one autumn Mamma told her little boys that they were going down into the country to spend September with an old aunt, who lived not far from where Mamma herself had lived when she "was a little girl."
"And is there those funny things—mush—mush—I forget the name—there?" asked Dick.
"Mushrooms?" said Mamma. "Oh, yes, in September there will be plenty, no doubt," she replied.
"And your birthday's in September," said Lancey. "Oh, Mamma, oh, Dick!" he went on, giving a great spring in his delight, "just think—we can gather mushrooms for it—nice, wild mushrooms, that taste ever so much better than the ones you buy in the shops, don't they, Mamma, darling?"
"Than forced mushrooms, you mean, Lancey," she replied. "Yes, forced mushrooms, that means mushrooms grown in hot-houses, or hot-beds;" for she saw on the boys' lips the question, "what are forced mushrooms, please?" "never have the same flavour, I am sure. Besides, one hasn't the fun of hunting for them, and gathering them one's self. I am sure you will enjoy that part of it."
"I am sure we shall. I am sure we shall like Fernimoor much better than the seaside," said both boys—"even though we have liked it very much," added tender-hearted Dick. He was so afraid of Mamma being at all hurt, if she fancied he meant that they had not enjoyed the seaside after all the trouble and expense she and papa had been at to take them there. For, as he told Lancey afterwards, he was sure he had seen Papa pay three gold pounds for their railway tickets at the station the day they came.
"I hope you will enjoy it very much," said Mamma kindly, "and I am sure you will, and so shall I. It will be so nice to show my little boys some of the places I loved when I was as little as they are."