It is idle to attempt an adjudication of the vexed "toadstool" and "mushroom" question here. The toad is plainly the only final, appealable authority on this subject. It may be questioned whether he is at pains to determine the delectable or noisome qualities—from the human standpoint—of a particular fungus before deciding to settle his comfortable proportions upon its summit—if, indeed, he even so honors even the humblest of them.
The oft-repeated question, therefore, "Is this fungus a toadstool or a mushroom?" may fittingly be met by the counter query, "Is this rose a flower or a blossom?"
The so-called distinction is a purely arbitrary, popular prejudice which differentiates the "toadstool" as poisonous, the "mushroom" being considered harmless. But even the rustic authorities are rather mixed on the subject, as may be well illustrated by a recent incident in my own experience.
Popular discrimination
Walking in the woods with a country friend in quest of fungi, we were discussing this "toadstool" topic when we came upon a cluster of mushrooms at the base of a tree-trunk, their broad, expanded caps apparently upholstered in fawn-colored, undressed kid, their under surfaces being stuffed and tufted in pale greenish hue.
"What would you call those?" I inquired.
"Those are toadstools, unmistakably," he replied.
"Well, toadstools or not, you see there about two pounds of delicious vegetable meat, for it is the common species of edible boletus—Boletus edulis."
A few moments later we paused before a beautiful specimen, lifting its parasol of pure white above the black leaf mould.
"And what is this?" I inquired.