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Hopeless Horticultural Society

Field Journal Notes of Philander Jones

Lead research botanist and chemist of the Hopeless Horticultural Society

Notes on The ‘Phallus Flacidious’ or Hopeless Stinkhorn

The common Stinkhorn is well known beyond these shores as a fungi best described with care in the compony of ladies. Indeed, a gentleman taking a young lady with an interest in botany out into the woods does well to avoid any patching of Stinkhorns he may recall. If, however the gentleman botanist is unfortunate enough to come across a common stinkhorn while escorting a young lady on a woodland excursion it is recommended in several journals on the subject of stinkhorns he attack the fungi with his cudgel.*

One notes, no gentleman of the Hopeless Horticultural Society should ever enter perambulate the woods without a robust cudgel of some description or at the very least a sturdy walking cane.

Quite apart from anything else they are useful for incentivising research orphans, the idle wastrels, by means of swift percussion. There are also of course ‘things’ in the woods of Hopeless of more danger to both the botanist and any young lady he may be escorting than fungi of an immoral nature and whilst it is the duty of research orphans to throw themselves between danger and the botanist, they prove cowardly in such endeavours as oft as not. Scampering away at the first sign on danger.

There is however, a note of warning, while there are many verities of the common stinkhorn on the island, standing proudly in defiance of decency. The Botanist should beware of cudgelling the increasingly common ‘Phallus Flacidious’ or Hopeless Stinkhorn. A variety of stinkhorn considered unique to the island which in defiance of its more erect relatives tends to grow a little then collapse under its own weight and slump to the ground. While this is of course less of a threat to the innocence minds of young ladies, I have come to believe the Hopeless stinkhorn lets out spores that affect the mind of gentlemen as this is the only reasonable explanation of why the sight of it incites strange feelings of inadequacy in this botanist.

While the dangers of escorting young impressionable ladies on naturalist excursions should be obvious, one also notes that the use of the word ‘naturalist’ in this context can easily be misconstrued. As Mrs Beaton took great pains to explain to us while wielding a wooden spoon. One advises the botanist does not use the word in her vicinity, and also that he makes it very clear when inviting young ladies to take a stroll through the verdant splendour of the wild arboretums of Hopeless he is doing so in order to invest in her his knowledge of nature’s wonders and not in order to gain knowledge of the wonders of the young lady in the garb of nature…

Additional note: Unfortunately, while this botanist has on occasion requested the company of several young ladies of the island on his woodland excursions, they seem reluctant to venture out with him. Even when it is made plain that the research organ will be accompanying them into the woods.

Nevertheless one does ones best to cudgel any common stinkhorns one comes across for sake of public decency.         

*This is all true, Victorian gentlemen did indeed take cudgels to stinkhorns all the time according to the Woodland Trust and I am not about to argue with botanists. They know exactly which fungi are poisonous.  

(Text and logo by Mark Hayes, realistic illustration of stinkhorn toadstools by Nimue)

Field Journal Notes of Philander Jones

By Mark Hayes

Field Journal Notes of Philander Jones

Lead research botanist and chemist of the Hopeless Horticultural Society

Notes on The Triple Ribbed Red Bloomers.

This fungi is most notable for its long thick stalk, its protruding, slightly bulbous, rounded tip and ovoid root stems than generally grow in pairs. Generally known to grow swiftly predawn and has been known to frighten both maidens and older women, when they come across one unexpectedly on as morning. There are rumours that adventurous young ladies have been known to seek out these woody tubers, but we of the society dismiss such suggestions as there seems to be no scientific reason for doing so.

The current research orphan, replacing the previous one who died some days ago of experimental pharmacology (see notes on toad licking below) is a feisty young lad. When we handed him a freshly gathered triple ribbed red bloomer however he became inordinately shy, bright red, and refused to talk about it. An effect that has been noted with adventurous young ladies as well.

It was posited this was all to doing with handling the thick stalk, we suspected a mild mood altering pharmacological agent that enters the body via the dermis but no one else but the young orphan seemed to be affected, though Mrs Krumpet, the house keeper, did burst out laughing when she saw him holding the fungi, somehow the sound of her laughter caused the effects of holding the parturient fungi to amplify.

Notes on Lesser Hollow Toad licking

There is a verity of Toad on the island that we believe is unique to lesser Hollow, a small wooded area with a deep blow of earth that has a pond at the bottom.

Some believe Lesser Hollow was formed by the toads themselves which live and breed vociferously around the pond but nowhere else on the island. The Lesser Hollow toads never sit on toad stools or go anywhere near a toad table. Instead, they frequently sit on each other. Mid breeding season (between March and October most years) the toads breed so quickly that they develop toad towers that sometimes reach up to the lip of the hollow, the highest recorded to our knowledge is a thirty-seven toad tower.

It was posited by Young Mr Candlewick of our sister organisation ‘The Hopeless Zoological Society’ that the reason the toads manage to make such high towers was that they excreted a stickly glue-like substance through their epidermis. In the spirit of cross society cooperation, we lent the HZS a research orphan, whom they encouraged to lick one of the toads to determine possible psychotropic properties of the dermis excretions. As they had read toad licking could be ‘quite fun’ in some odd journal that washed up after the shipwreck last month.  

Sadly, they were unable to determine if any psychotropic properties were present as the glue-like nature of the toads skin slime caused the research orphan to get his tongue stuck to the toad. Attempts to remove the toad stripped away several layers of skin from the orphans face and then Mr Candlewick had to remove the lingua with a pair of sheers.  

The orphan sadly expired due to blood loss, or possibly blood retention in his lungs, we are not sure which. His tongue, however. is still stuck to the back of the toad in question, and is now part of one of the largest toad towers ever seen on the island.

So, some success there.

We look forward to more cross experimentation with the zoological society  in coming weeks when we intend to feed a night potatoes to dust-cats to see what will happen