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Updated: May 23, 2025
But at breakfast next morning she seemed thoughtful and somewhat depressed. I asked her what she was thinking about. "It's like this," she said. "If your head clerk says that our toadstool is a mushroom, while Mr. Bungwall's gardener says that our mushroom is a toadstool, we sha'n't like to eat it because of Mr.
I should be sorry to believe it, because I have always found Mr. Bungwall's gardener such a very respectful man. To my mind there is an air of mystery over the whole affair. I had got the money by work done at home, out of office hours. It came to four pounds altogether. At first I thought I would use it to discharge a part of our debt to Eliza's mother.
Bungwall's gardener, and we sha'n't like to throw it away because of your head clerk, and I don't see what to do with it." "You forget, my dear. We have a third opinion. Jane says the mushroom is a mushroom." "Jane will say anything." "Well, we might put her to the test.
Bungwall's gardener arrived, and said that he was sorry to disappoint us in any way, and it was not his fault, but the mushroom was a toadstool. "This," I said to Eliza, "is something of a blow." "Perhaps," she said, "Mr. Bungwall's gardener is mistaken." "I fear not.
We might ask her if she'd like to eat the mushroom herself, and then if she says yes and seems pleased, why, of course we'd eat it. I'll go and pick it now." And when I went to do so I found that the mushroom had gone. Eliza says that Mr. Bungwall's gardener told us it was a toadstool to keep us from picking it, and then stole it himself, because he knew that it was a mushroom. That may be.
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