queer beast, Jim. They ain't dried fish, and
they never grew on stalk or vine. I'm afraid
of 'em. Anyhow, I shouldn't want to eat any-
thing that had been shut up for months with
old clothes and goose pillows."

She threw the package into the stove, but I
bit off a corner of one of the chips I held in my
hand, and chewed it tentatively. I never for-
got the strange taste; though it was many
years before I knew that those little brown
shavings, which the Shimerdas had brought
so far and treasured so jealously, were dried
mushrooms. They had been gathered, prob-
ably, in some deep Bohemian forest...

[[90]]

p089 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p090w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p091

v?