P.M.—To chestnuts, down Turnpike.

  I notice these flowers on the way by the roadside, which survive the frost . . .

  Found amid the sphagnum on the dry bank on the south side of the Turnpike, just below Everett’s meadow, a rare and remarkable fungus, such as I have heard of but never seen before. The whole height six and three quarters inches, two thirds of it being buried in the sphagnum . . .