The Pearl/Volume 3

Sub-Umbra, or Sport Among the She-Noodles.
(Continued.)

In the course of the evening, Frank and myself were delighted by the arrival of a beautiful young lady of sixteen, on a visit to his sisters, in fact, a school fellow of Sophie and Polly, come to stop a week at the house.

Miss Rosa Redquim was indeed a sprightly beauty of the Venus height, well proportioned in leg and limb, full swelling bosom, with a graceful Grecian type of face, rosy cheeks, large grey eyes, and golden auburn hair, lips as red as cherries, and teeth like pearls, frequently exhibited by a succession of winning smiles, which never seemed to leave her face. Such was the acquisition to the feminine department of the house, and we congratulated ourselves on the increased prospect of sport, as Frank had expressed to me considerable compunctions as to taking liberties with one's own sisters.

The next morning being gloriously fine and warm, myself and friend strolled in the grounds, smoking our cigarettes, for about an hour, till near the time when we guessed the girls would be coming for a bath in the small lake in the park, which we at once proceeded to; then we secreted ourselves secure from observation, and awaited, in deep silence, the arrival of sisters and friend.

This lake, as I call it, was a pond of about four or five acres in extent, every side thickly wooded to the very margin, so that even anglers could not get access to the bank, except at the little sloping green sward, of about twenty or thirty square yards in extent, which had a large hut, or summer-house, under the trees, where the bathers could undress, and then trip across the lawn to the water. The bottom of the pond being gradually shelving, and covered with fine sand at this spot, and a circular space, enclosed with rails, to prevent them getting out of their depth.

The back door of this hut opened upon a very narrow foot-path, leading to the house through the dense thicket, so that any party would feel quite secure from observation. The interior was comfortably furnished with seats and lounges, besides a buffet, generally holding a stock of wine, biscuits, and cakes, during the bathing season.

Frank, having a key to the hut, took me through onto the lawn, and then climbing up into a thick sycamore, we re-lighted our cigarettes, awaiting the adventure with some justifiable impatience.

Some ten minutes of suspense, and then we were rewarded by hearing the ringing laughter of the approaching girls. We heard the key turned in the lock, then the sounds of their bolting themselves in, and Annie's voice, saying: "Ah! Wouldn't the boys like the fun of seeing us undress and bathing, this lovely warm day"; to which we heard Rosa laughingly reply: "I don't mind if they do see me, if I don't know it, dears. There's something delightful in the thought of the excitement it would put the dear fellows in. I know I should like Frank to take a fancy to me; I'm nearly in love with him already, and have read that the best way a girl can madly excite the man she wishes to win is to let him see all her charms, when he thinks she is unconscious of his being near."

"Well, there's no fear of our being seen here, so I am one for a good romp. Off with your clothes, quick; it will be delicious in the water," exclaimed Sophie.

The undressing was soon accomplished, excepting chemises, boots, and stockings, as they were evidently in no hurry to enter the water.

"Now," said Sophie, with a gay laugh, "we must make Rosa a free woman, and examine all she's got. Come on, girls, lay her down, and turn up her smock."

The beautiful girl only made a slight feint of resisting, as she playfully pulled up their chemises, exclaiming: "You shan't look at my fanny for nothing. La! Polly has got no hair on her fly trap yet. What a pretty pouting slit yours is, Annie. I think you have been using the finger of a glove made into a little cock for Sophie, and told her to bring home from school for you."

She was soon stretched on her back on the soft mossy grass, her face covered with burning blushes, as her pretty cunt was exposed to view, ornamented with its chevelure of soft red hair; her beautiful white belly and thighs shining like marble in the bright sunlight. The three sisters were blushing as well as their friend, and delighted at the sight of so much loveliness.

One after another, they kissed the vermilion lips of their friend's delightful slit, and then turning her on her face, proceeded to smack the lily white bottom of their laughing, screaming victim, with their open hands.

Smacks and laughter echoed through the grove, and we almost fancied ourselves witnesses to the games of real nymphs. At last she was allowed to rise on her knees, and then the three sisters in turn presented their cunts to their friend to kiss. Polly was the last, and Rosa, clasping her arms firmly round my youngest cousin's buttocks, exclaimed: "Ah! Ah! You have made me feel so rude, I must suck this little hairless jewel," as she glued her lips to it, and hid her face almost from sight, as if she would devour Polly's charms there and then. The young girl, flushed with excitement, placed her hands on Rosa's head, as if to keep her there, whilst both Annie and Sophie, kneeling down by the side of their friend, began to caress her cunt, bosom, and every charm they could tickle or handle.

This exciting scene lasted for five or six minutes, till at last they all sank down in a confused heap on the grass, kissing and fingering in mad excitement.

Now was our time. We had each provided ourselves with little switches of twigs, and thus aimed we seemed to drop from the clouds upon the surprised girls, who screamed in fright and hid their blushing faces in their hands.

They were too astonished and alarmed to jump up, but we soon commenced to bring them to their senses, and convince them of the reality of the situation.

"What rude! what lascivious ideas! slash away Frank!" I cried, making my swish leave its marks on their bottoms at every cut.

"Who would have thought of it, Walter? We must whip such indecent ideas out of their tails!" he answered, seconding my assault with his sharp, rapid strokes.

They screamed both from pain and shame, and springing to their feet, chased round the lawn; there was no escape. We caught them by the tails of their chemises, which we lifted up to enable us to cut at their bums with more effect. At last we were getting quite out of breath, and beginning fairly to pant from exhaustion, when Annie suddenly turned upon me, saying, "Come, come, girls, let's tear their clothes off, so they shall be quite as ashamed as we are, and agree to keep our secret!" The others helped her, and we made such a feeble resistance that we were soon reduced to the same state in which we had surprised them, making them blush and look very shamefaced at the sight of our rampant engines of love.

Frank seized Miss Redquim round the waist, and led the way into the summer-house, myself and his sisters following. The gentlemen then producing the wine, &c. from the buffet, sat down with a young lady on each knee, my friend having Rosa

and Polly, whilst Annie and Sophie sat with me; we plied the girls with several glasses of champagne each, which they seemed to swallow in order to drown their sense of shame. We could feel their bodies quiver with emotion as they reclined upon our necks, their hands and ours groping under shirts and chemises in every forbidden spot; each of us had two delicate hands caressing our cocks, two delicious arms around our necks, two faces laid cheek to cheek on either side, two sets of lips to kiss, two pairs of bright and humid eyes to return our ardent glances; what wonder then that we flooded their hands with our spurting seed and felt their delicious spendings trickle over our busy fingers.

Excited by the wine, and madly lustful to enjoy the dear girls to the utmost, I stretched Sophie's legs wide apart, and sinking on my knees, gamahuched her virgin cunt, till she spent again in ecstasy, whilst dear Annie was doing the same to me. sucking the last drop of spend from my gushing prick; meanwhile Frank was following my example, Rosa surrendered to his lascivious tongue all the recesses of her virginity as she screamed with delight and pressed his head towards her mount when the frenzy of love brought her to the spending point; Polly all the while kissing her brother's belly, and frigging him to a delicious emission.

When we recovered a little from this exciting pas de trois, all bashfulness was vanished between us, we promised to renew our pleasures on the morrow, and for the present contented ourselves by bathing all together, and then returned to the house for fear the girls might be suspected of something wrong for staying out too long.

(To be continued.)

Sporting Life, 6th August, 1879. - Mr. F. JACOBS. - We are pleased to hear that this gentleman, although severely crushed and bruised by his fall while riding Mrs. Jones at Southport in the Consolation Stakes, is going on as well as his friends could wish, and it is hoped he is quite out of danger. Query. - Was he riding a St. George, or was it a genuine toss off with its neck nearly broken? - Ed.

Miss Coote's Confession, or the Voluptuous Experiences of an Old Maid.
In a series of Letters to a Lady Friend.

LETTER III

My Dear Nellie,

I told you in my last how easily for me the affair of the nectarines passed over, but I was not long to go free with a whole skin. The General had evidently booked me in his mind for a good dressing the first time I should give him a pretext for punishment.

Strange to say, my first terrible punishment and dreadful cutting up of poor Jemima, related in my last letter, had very little effect, except, if possible, to render me rather more of a daredevil. I longed to pay off both Sir Eyre and Mrs. Mansell. but could think of no possible plan of effecting my revenge at all satisfactorily; if I could but do it properly, I was quite indifferent to what they might wreak upon me.

Jane could offer no suggestion, so I resolved to act entirely alone, and pretended to let it all drop, but sundry little annoyances were continually happening to different members of the family, even to myself. The General was very angry, and particularly furious, when, one day he found some of his flagellation books seriously torn and damaged, but could fix the blame on no one; indeed, I rather fancy he strongly suspected Jemima had done it out of revenge. Next Mrs. Mansell got her feet well stung one night by nettles placed in her bed; she and Sir Eyre always were the principal sufferers, and, as a climax, two or three days afterwards, the General got his flesh considerably scratched and pricked by some pieces of bramble, cleverly hid in his bed, under the sheet, so as to be felt before they could be seen, it being his practice to throw back the upper bed clothes, and then, laying himself full length, pull them over him again. His backside first felt the pricks, which made him suddenly start from the spot, but only to get his hands, feet, legs, and all parts of his body well lacerated before he could get off the bed. I saw the sheet next day all spotted with the blood, for he was fearfully scratched, and pieces of the thorns stuck in his flesh.

Mrs. Mansell had to get out of bed in a hurry to attend the poor old fellow, and was occupied a long time in putting him to rights, returning in about an hour's time, and making haste into bed, quite unsuspicious of any lurking danger (she had already been in it) when, prick - prick - prick! "Ah! my God! The devil's been here whilst I was away," she screamed.

Jemima, Jane, and myself, ran to her room, and found her terribly scratched, especially on her knees; there were suppressed smiles on all our faces, and Jemima looked really pleased.

Mrs. Mansell.- "Ah! What a shame to serve me so. It's one of you three, and I believe it's Jemima."

Jemima.- "I couldn't help smiling, ma'am; you did scream so, and I thought you had no feeling."

Mrs. Mansell.- "You impudent hussey, Sir Eyre shall know of this."

Jemima, Jane, and myself, all declared our innocence, but in vain; there evidently would soon be a grand punishment drill for her, if not for all three.

The housekeeper and the General were both too sore for nearly a week, and, in fact, many of the thorns remained in their flesh, and one in Mrs. Mansell's knee kept her very lame, Sir Eyre had to wait ten days before he could enter into any kind of an investigation.

At last the awful day arrived; we were all mustered in the punishment room, the General seated in his chair (it was after dinner, as usual), and we were all in evening costume.

Sir Eyre.- "You all know why I have called you together. Such an outrage as Mrs. Mansell and myself suffered from cannot be passed over; in fact, if neither Miss Rosa, Jemima, nor Jane will confess the crime, I have resolved to punish all three severely, so as to be sure the real culprit gets her deserts. Now, Rosa, was it you? for if not you, it was one of the others."

answer.- "No grandfather, besides, you know all sorts of tricks have been played upon me."

Sir Eyre.- "Well, Jemima, what do you say, yes or no?"

Jemima.- "Good Lord, sir! I never touched such thorns in my life!"

Sir Eyre.- "Jane, are you guilty or not, or do you know anything of it?"

Jane.- "Oh! Dear! No, sir! Indeed, I don't!"

Sir Eyre.- "One of you must be a confounded story-teller. Rosa, as a young lady, I shall punish you first. Perhaps we may get a confession from one of you before we've done."

Then turning to Mrs. Mansell, "Prepare the young lady; she didn't get such a birching as she ought to have had the other day, but if it takes all night, the three of them shall be well trounced. Jane and Jemima lend a hand."

My thoughts were not so much upon what I should feel myself, as the anticipation of the fine sight the others would present, and hoping to again realize the pleasant sensations I had experienced when Jemima was so severely punished. They soon removed my blue silk dress, and fixed me to the horse, but the General interposed; he had a different idea.

"Stop! Stop!" he cried. "Let Jemima horse her." So I was released, and having my petticoats well fastened over my back, I was at once mounted on her strong stout back, my arms round her neck, being firmly held by the wrists in front, and my legs also tied together under her waist, leaving me beautifully exposed and bent so as to tighten the skin. Mrs. Mansell was about to open my drawers when Sir Eyre says: "No! No! I'm going to use this driving whip. Jemima, just trot around the room. I can reach her now."

Then giving a sharp flick with the whip, which quite convinced me of its efficacy: -

"Now, miss! What have you to say for yourself? I believe you know all about it." Slash! Slash! Slashing with the whip, as Jemima, evidently enjoying it, capered round the room; each cut made my poor bottom smart with agony.

"Oh! Oh! Ah! Grandfather!" I cried. "It's a shame to punish me, when you know I'm innocent. Oh! Ah-r-r-re," as he slashed me without mercy. I could feel I was getting wealed all over, but my drawers prevented the flesh from being cut.

Presently he ordered a halt, saying: "Now, Mrs. Mansell, let's have a look at her naughty bottom, to see if the whip has done any good."

Mrs. Mansell, carefully opening my drawers behind, exclaims, "Look, look, sir. you've touched her up nicely, what beautiful weals, and how rosy her bottom looks."

Sir Eyre.- "Aye, aye, it's a beautiful sight, but not half pretty enough yet. Mrs. Mansell, do you finish her off with the birch."

I felt assured of catching it in good earnest now. The General lit a cigar, and composed himself in his easy chair to enjoy the scene. Mrs. Mansell selected a fine birch of long, thin, green twigs, and leaving my drawers open behind, ordered Jemima to stand in front of her.

Mrs. Mansell, whisking her birch, said, "I feel sure this young lady is in the secret, but we shall get nothing out of her, she is so obstinate, but I will try my best.

Sir Eyre. Now, Miss Rosa, tell the truth if you want to save your bottom; are you quite as sure as ever of your own innocence?" whisking and slashing me smartly and with great deliberation, making the blows fall with a whacking sound, not inconsiderably adding to the previous warmth of my posteriors, which smart and tingle terrifically at each cut.

"Oh! ah! how unjust," I screamed, to relieve myself as much as possible. "Oh, ah! If I do know I can't tell, it's a secret. Oh! have mercy!" thus trying to serve a double purpose to be let off lightly myself, by making them think someone else did it, and so transfer their fury to Jane and Jemima, whose whipping I hoped to enjoy.

Mrs. Mansell.- "Ha! ha! 'tis wonderful how the birch has improved you, my dear Miss Rosa, you're not nearly so obstinate as you were, but if you won't tell, you must be punished as an accessory. I'm sorry to do it, but it doesn't hurt you quite so awfully, does it?" thrashing away without a moment's respite; my poor bottom is beginning to be finely pickled, and I can feel the blood trickling down my legs inside my drawers.

"Hold! Hold!" cries the General, excitedly; "it's that devil Jemima; you've punished Rosa enough, try Jane next, if she knows anything we'll make her confess, and then the impudent red-headed Jemima shall catch it finely. We're getting at the truth, Mrs. Mansell."

I am let down, and the General orders Jane to take my place on the stout back; I let my clothes down with a thrill of excitement, and thanking Sir Eyre for his kindness, make myself busy in helping to arrange poor Jane's posteriors for slaughter, and pin up her skirts to her shoulders, exposing her fine, plump bottom, and beautiful thighs and legs, the latter encased in pink silk stockings, set off by red satin slippers and blue garters with silver buckles.

Sir Eyre.- "How now, Jane, you hussey, do you dare to come into my presence without drawers, how indecent, it's like telling me to 'ax my arse,' you impudent girl; how do you like that;" giving her a tremendous under cut so that the birch fairly well wealed the flesh right up to her mossy crack; "it's all very well, in the heat of a birching, but to expose your nakedness like that so impudently is quite another," continuing to cut away in apparently great indignation.

Jane.- "Ah! Ah! Ah-a-r-re! My God, sir, have pity, Mrs. Mansell didn't allow us time to dress, and in the hurry I couldn't find my drawers to put on, and she was angrily calling me to come, and not keep her waiting. So I thought duty must be considered before decency. Oh! Oh! Oh! sir, you are cruel. Oh! have mercy, I'm as innocent as a babe!" as she is in terrible agony from the under cuts, which have already drawn the blood; she writhes and struggles so, Jemima can hardly stand under her plunging figure.

Sir Eyre.- "Well, well, I'm inclined to forgive you about the drawers, as I always like everybody to consider duty before everything, but how about putting the thorns in the bed; you must know about that, and it's your duty to confess."

Jane.- "Oh! Oh! Ah-r-r-re, I can't tell, I'm innocent, how can I split upon another? Oh, you'll kill me, sir! I shall be confined to my bed for weeks if you cut me up so!"

Sir Eyre.- "Fiddlesticks, bottoms get well quicker than that, Jane, don't be alarmed, but I shall punish you a good deal more if you don't confess it was Jemima did it. Now wasn't it Jemima? Wasn't it Jemima! wasn't it Jemima!" thundering at her both with voice and rod and drawing the blood finely.

The victim is almost ready to faint, still I could see the usual indications of voluptuous excitement, notwithstanding the agony she must be in, but at last she seems quite exhausted, and ceasing to writhe and wriggle as if she no longer felt the cruel blows whilst her shrieks sink to a sobbing. "Yes, yes! oh! yes."

Sir Eyre.- "Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughing in anticipation of getting the real culprit. "Yes! yes! she's confessed at last, let her down now, poor thing," throwing away the stump of the worn-out rod; "she took a lot before she would give way, but It's bound to come out."

Poor Jane is let down in a pitiable condition, and Jemima hisses something about "lying chit" between her teeth, as I assist Mrs. Mansell to tie her to the horse, and having pinned up her skirts, I opened her drawers so as fully to expose the snow-white beauties of her fine rump.

Sir Eyre.- "Open them as wide as possible, Rosa; the mean creature, to let others suffer for her own crime, and even take delight in helping to punish them."

Jemima.- "It's all a lie, Sir Eyre, I never had anything to do with it, and they have turned round on me so they may enjoy the sight of my flogging. Oh! oh! this is a cruel house, pay me my wages and let me go."

Sir Eyre, chuckling.- "You'll get your wages, or at least your deserts, you sneaking wretch."

Jemima (is crimson with shame and fury), exclaiming- "I'm not so much a sneak as somebody else who's done it; I'll die before I own what I never did."

Sir Eyre.- "Don't let us waste any more time on the obstinate hussey. Let's try what a good birch will do," slashing her two or three times severely on her bottom, and bringing out the rosy flush all over the surface of its firm broad cheeks.

"See how her bottom blushes for her," laughed the General, "but it will soon have to weep blood," increasing the force of his blows, and drawing weals at every stroke.

Jemima.- "Oh! Oh! Sir Eyre! how can you believe a lying girl like Jane, won't I box her ears for her when I get over this, the spiteful thing, to say it's me!"

Sir Eyre.- "You're the spiteful one. Will you box her ears? Do you really mean that, you strong, impudent donkey! I shall soon have to try something better than a birch on you, it's not severe enough; you shall beg Jane's pardon before I've done with you; you may be strong and tough, but we'll master that somehow; how do you like it? I hope you don't feel it, Jemima; I don't think you do, or you would be more penitent," said he, in a fury. "I wish I had a good bramble here to tear your bottom with, perhaps you might feel that."

Jemima.- "Oh! No! Pray don't. I didn't do it, and wouldn't have done such a thing to my worst enemy. Oh! Oh! Sir! Have mercy, I'm being murdered. You'll bleed me to death," as she feels the blood trickling down her thighs.

Sir Eyre.- "You're too bad to be easily killed. Why don't you confess, you wicked creature?" Then turning to Mrs. Mansell: "Don't you think, ma'am, she's got too many things on? I am not given to cruelty, but this is a case requiring greater severity than usual."

Mrs. Mansell.- "Shall we reduce her to her chemise and drawers, so you can administer the extreme penalty?"

Sir Eyre.- "Yes! Yes! It will give a little time to recover my breath. She's taken all the strength out of me."

We now strip all her petticoats off, and undo her stays, fully displaying the large fine plump globes of her splendid bosom, with their pretty pink nipples; then she is fastened up again, and stands with her wrists fastened well above her head. She has her fawn-coloured kid gloves, and the net, as usual, up to her elbows, so as to set off her arms and hands to the best advantage. She has nothing but chemise and drawers to hide her fine figure; but before commencing again, the General orders the latter to be entirely removed and her chemise to be pinned up to the shoulders; then turning to me, he said:

"Rosa, my dear, it's all through that wicked young woman you have been punished. I don't wish to teach anyone to revenge themselves, but as Mrs. Mansell is hardly well enough, and I am in want of a little more rest, I think you could take this whip," handing me a fine ladies' switch, with a little piece of knotted cord at the end. "There, you know how to use it; don't spare any part of her bottom or thighs."

This was just what I had been longing for, but did not like to volunteer. With a glance of triumph towards poor Jane (who was gradually getting over her own punishment, and beginning to take interest in what was going forward), I took the whip, and placed myself in position to commence. What a beautiful sight my victim presented, her splendid plump back, loins, and buttocks fully exposed to view, whilst the red wealed flesh of her bottom, smeared with blood, contrasted so nicely with her snow-white belly in front, ornamented on the Mons Veneris with a profusion of soft curly hair of a light sandy colour; and her legs being fixed widely apart, I could see her pink bottom-hole; and the pouting lips of her cunny just underneath; further down stretched the splendid expanse of her well-developed thighs, as white as her belly; then she was also dressed in crimson silk stockings, pretty garters and fawn- coloured slippers to match her gloves. My blood seemed to boil at the sight of so much loveliness, which I longed to cut into ribbons of wealed flesh and blood.

Sir Eyre.- "Go on, Rosie, what makes you so slow to begin? You can't do too much to such an obstinate thing; try and make her beg Jane's pardon."

Rosa.- "She looks very nice, but I'm afraid the whip will cut her up so, grandfather. Now, Jemima, I'm going to begin, does that hurt you?" giving her a light cut on her tender thighs, where the tip of the whip left a very plain red mark.

Jemima.- "Oh! Oh! Miss Rosa, be merciful; I've never been unkind to you; how nicely I rode you on my back when you were punished."

Rosa.- "Yes! and enjoyed the fun all the time, you cruel thing; you knew what I was getting, but I could tell you were delighted to horse me," giving three or four smart cuts across her loins, and registering every blow with a fine angry-looking weal. "There! There! There! Ask my pardon, and Jane's pardon for your threats. Will you box her ears, will you!" cutting sharply at every question in some unexpected part; no two strokes follow each other in the same place.

Victim.- "A-r-r-re, have mercy. I was sorry for you, Miss Rosie. Oh! You're as hard as Sir Eyre. You'll cut me to pieces with that whip," she sobs out, her face crimson with the conflicting emotions of fear, rage, and obstinacy.

Rosa.- "Now, Jemima, your only chance is to beg our pardon, and confess your crime; you know you did it, you know you did it, you obstinate wench," cutting the flesh in every direction, and making the blood flow freely all down the thighs on to her stockings.

The victim writhes and shrieks with pain at every blow, but refuses to admit her fault, or beg pardon. The sight of her sufferings seemed to nerve my arm, and add to my excitement, the blood seemed delicious in my eyes, and I gradually worked myself up, so that I felt such gushing thrilling sensations as to quite overcome me. The whip was dropped in exhaustion, and I sank back on a seat in a kind of lethargic stupor, yet quite conscious of all that was going on.

Sir Eyre.- "Why, Rosie, I thought you were stronger than that. Poor thing, your punishment was too much for you. I'll finish the culprit. If she won't confess, she must be executed, that's all," snatching up another whip, much heavier than the one I had used, and with three tips of cord on the end. "You won't confess, won't you, you obstinate wicked creature? My blood boils when I think how I punished the other two innocent girls," he exclaimed, cutting her fearfully on the calves of her legs, knocking the delicate silk of the stockings to pieces, and wealing and bruising her legs all over. The victim cannot plunge about, as her ankles are fastened, but she moans with agony, and shrieks and sobs hysterically in turns at this terrible attack. The General seems beside himself with rage, for he next turns to her beautiful white shoulders, and slashes them about, fearfully cutting through the skin and deluging poor Jemima with her own blood.

Sir Eyre.- "I shall murder her; I can't help it; she's made me quite mad." His cuts wind round her ribs, and even weal the beauties of her splendid bosom, and stains the snowy belly with their blood.

Jemima (in low broken sobs).- "Oh! Oh! Mercy! Let me die! Don't torture an innocent thing like me any longer." She seems going to faint, when Mrs. Mansell interposes, saying: "It is enough; more may do serious injury."

Sir Eyre (gasping for breath).- "Oh! Oh! I know you are right to take me away, or I shall really murder her."

The bleeding victim is a pitiable and terrible sight as we release her from the ladder; she is scarcely able to stand; her boots covered with blood, and little pools of the sanguineous fluid stand on the floor; and we had to administer a cordial before she was able to be supported to her room, where she was confined to her bed for several days.

I had now had all the revenge I was so anxious to inflict; but the great avenger of all, to my great grief, soon removed poor old grandfather from this world, and left me indeed an orphan. Being still very young, my guardians under Sir Eyre's will placed me at Miss Flaybum's Academy to finish my education, and the old home was broken up, and inmates scattered.

I shall send you some of my school experiences in my next, and remain,

Dear Nellie,

Yours affectionately. ROSA BELINDA COOTE.

(To be continued.)

"Pray, mama," said Sally, "what's the meaning of Hush?"

"My dear," said mama, "what makes you ask such a question?"

"Because I asked Fanny what made her belly stick out so, and she answered, 'Hush.'

Charlie Collingwood's Flogging, by Etoniensis.
Seventeen years of age, with round limbs, and broad shoulders, tall, rosy and fair, And all over his forehead and temples, a forest of curly red hair; Good in the playing fields, good on the water, or in it, this lad: But at sums, or at themes, or at verses, oh! ain't Charlie Collingwood bad?

Six days out of seven, or five at the least, he's sent up to be stripped; But it's nuts for the lower boys always, to see Charlie Collingwood whipped; For the marks of the birch on his bottom are more than the leaves on a tree, And a bum that has worn so much birch out, as Charlie's, is jolly to see.

When his shirt is turned up, and his breeches, unbuttoned, hang down to his heels, From the small of his back, to the thick of his thighs is one mass of red weals. Ted Beauchamp last year began keeping a list of his floggings and he Says, they come; in a year-and-a-half, to a hundred and sixty and three.

And you see how this morning, in front of the flogging block silent he stands, And hitches his waistband up slightly, and feels his backside with his hands. Then he lifts his blue eyes to the face of the Master, nor shrinks at his frown, Nor at sight of the birch, nor at sound of the sentence of judgment, "Go down."

Not a word, Charlie Collingwood says, not a syllable, piteous or pert; But goes down with his breeches unbuttoned, and Errington takes up his shirt. And again we can see his great naked red bottom, round, fleshy, and plump. And the bystanders look from the Master's red rod, to the schoolboy's red rump:

There are weals over weals, there are stripes upon stripes, there are cuts after cuts, All across Charlie Collingwood's bottom, and isn't the sight of it nuts? There, that cut on the fleshiest part of the buttocks, high up on the right, He got that before supper last evening, oh! isn't his bottom a sight?

And that scar that's just healed, don't you see where the birch cut the flesh? That's a token of Charlie's last flogging, the rod will soon stamp it afresh. And this morning you saw he could hardly sit down, or be quiet in Church; It's a pleasure to see Charlie's bottom, it looks just cut out for the birch.

Now, look out, Master Charlie, it's coming: you won't get off this time, by God! For your Master's in, oh, such a wax! and he's picked you out, oh, such a rod! Such a jolly good rod, with the buds on, so stout, and so supple and lithe, You've been flogged till you're hardened to flogging, but won't the first cut make you writhe?

You've been birched till you say you don't care as you used for a birching! Indeed? Wait a bit, Master Charlie, I'll bet the third cut or the fourth makes you bleed. Though they say a boy's bottom grows harder with whipping, and times make it tough, Yet the sturdiest boy's bottom will wince if the Schoolmaster whips it enough.

Aye, the stoutest posteriors will redden, and flinch from the cuts as they come, If they're flogged half as hard as the Master will flog Charlie Collingwood's bum. We shall see a real jolly good swishing, as good as a fellow could wish; Here's a stunning good rod, and a jolly big bottom just under it - Swish!

Oh, by Jove, he's drawn blood at the very first cut! in two places by God! Aye, and Charlie's red bottom grows redder all over with marks of the rod. And the pain of the cut makes his burning posteriors quiver and heave, And he's hiding his face-yes, by Jove, and he's wiping his eyes on his sleeve!

Now; give it him well, Sir, lay into him well, till the pain makes him roar! Flog him, then, till he stops, and then flog him again, till he bellows once more! Ah, Charlie, my boy, you don't mind it, eh do you? it's nothing to bear. Though a small boy may cry for a flogging, that's natural, but Charlie don't care.

That's right, Sir, don't spare him! that cut was a stinger, but Charlie don't mind; All the rods in the kingdom would only be wasted on Charlie's behind, At each cut, how the red flesh rises, the red weals tingle and swell! How he blushes! I told you the Master would flog Charlie Collingwood well.

There are long red ridges and furrows, across his great, broad, nether cheeks, And on both his plump, rosy, round buttocks, the blood stands in drops and in streaks. Well hit, Sir! Well caught! how he drew in his bottom, and flinched from the cut! At each touch of the birch on his bum, how the smart makes it open and shut!

Well struck, Sir, again, how it made the blood spin! there's a drop on the floor, Each long, fleshy furrow grows ruddy, and Charlie can bear it no more. Blood runs from each weal on his bottom, and all Charlie's bottom is wealed 'Twill be many a day ere the scars of this flogging are thoroughly healed.

Now just under the hollow of Charlie's bare back, where the flanks are aslope. The rod catches and stings him, and now at the point where the downward ways ope; Round his flanks, now like serpents, the birchen twigs twining bend round as they bite, And you see on his naked, white belly, red ridges, where all was so white.

Where between his white thighs, something hairy, the body's division reveals. Falls the next cut, and now Charlie Collingwood's bottom is all over weals. Not a twig on the rod, but has raised a red ridge on his flesh, not a bud, But has drawn from his naked and writhing posteriors, a fresh drop of blood.

And the Schoolmaster warms to his work now, as harder and harder he hits, And picks out the most sensitive places, as though he'd cut Charlie to bits. "So you'll fidget and whisper in school-time, and make a disturbance in Church? "Can't sit still, Master Charlie, eh, can't you? Well, what do you think of the birch?

"Oh, it hurts you so, does it, my boy, to sit down, since I flogged you last night? "It was that made you fidget all church time? Indeed, you can't help it, please God- "By the help of the birch, Master Charlie, I'll teach you to help it, please God- "If you don't mend your manners in future, it shan't be for want of a rod.

"You're a big boy, no doubt, to be flogged; the more shame for you, Sir, at your age- "But as long as you're here, I shall flog you," he lays on the cuts in a rage. "Aye, and if you were older and bigger, you'd come to the flogging block still— "Boys are never too big to be beaten!" he lays on the birch with a will,

"if a boy's not too old to go wrong, Sir, he can't be too old to be whipped; "So take that!" and he lays on the rod, till the twigs all with crimson are tipped. There are drops of the boy's blood visible now, on each tender young bud- Blood has dropped on his trousers, and Charlie's bare bottom is covered with blood.

But I'd rather be shut up for days, in a hole you would scarce put a dog in. And brought out once a day to be birched, than have missed Charlie Collingwood's flogging. How each cut brings the blood to his forehead, and makes him bite half through his lips! How the birch cuts his bottom right over, and makes the blood spin from his hips!

How his brawny bare haunches, all bloody, and wealed, with red furrows like ruts, Shrink quivering with pain at each stroke, that revives all the smart of past cuts! How the Schoolmaster seems to hit harder, the birch to sting more at each blow! Till at last Charlie Collingwood, writhing with agony, bellows out,"Oh!"

That was all; not a word of petition; a single short cry and no more; And the younger boys laugh, that the birch should have made such a big fellow roar. For a moment, the Master too pauses; but not for a truce or a parley: Then the birch falls afresh, on the bloody wealed flesh, with "Take that, Master Charlie."

All the small boys are breathless and hushed; but they hear not a syllable come, They hear only the swish of the birch, as it meets Charlie Collingwood's bum. And the Master's face flushes with anger; he signs to Fred Fane with a nod; And Freddy reluctantly hands him another stout, supple birch rod.

And again as he flogs Charlie Collingwood's bottom, his face seems aflame; At each cut he reminds him of this thing or that, and rebukes him by name. Each cut makes the boy's haunches quiver, and scores them all over afresh; You can trace where each separate birch twig has marked Charlie Collingwood's flesh.

Till the Master, tired out with hard work, and quite satiate with flogging for once. With one last cut, that stings to the quick, bids him rise for an Obstinate Dunce. From the block Charlie Collingwood rises, red faced, and with tumbled red hair. And with crimson hued bottom, and tearful blue eyes, and a look of "Don't Care."

Then he draws up his breeches, and walks out of school with a crowd of boys dogging The heels of their hero, all proud to have seen Charlie Collingwood's flogging.

FINIS.

"Jack, my boy, what a devil of an appetite you have this morning," said one friend to another as they were breakfasting at their hotel. "And so would you," replied Jack, "if you had only had a whore's tongue and a toothbrush in your mouth since yesterday!"

Madame Rollin had three monkeys, of which one was a she; and the lady used to amuse herself with watching their tricks. "It is curious," said she, "to observe them, for while one of them is caressing the other, the third comforts himself!"

Her expression was "suffices for himself"!!

Meaning Masturbation of Course!!!

Lady Pokingham, or They All Do It.
Giving an Account of her Luxurious Adventures, both before and after her Marriage with Lord Crim-Con

Part II.
(Continued.)

Christmas came, and with it arrived several visitors, all young ladies and gentlemen of about our own ages, to spend the festive season with us; our entire party consisted of five gentlemen and seven ladies, leaving out the aunt, who was too old to enter into youthful fun and contented herself with being a faithful housekeeper, and keeping good house, so that after supper every evening we could do almost as we liked; myself and Alice soon converted our five young lady friends into tribades like ourselves, ready for anything, whilst Frederick prepared his young male friends. New Year's Day was his eighteenth birthday, and we determined to hold a regular orgy that night in our corridor, with Lucy's help. Plenty of refreshments were laid in stock, ices, sandwiches, and champagne; the aunt strictly ordered us all to retire at one A.M. at latest, so we kept her commands, after spending a delicious evening in dancing and games, which only served to flush us with excitement for what all instinctively felt would be a most voluptuous entertainment upstairs.

The aunt was a heavy sleeper, and rather deaf, besides which Frederick, under the excuse of making them drink his health, plied the servants first with beer, then with wine, and afterwards with just a glass of brandy for a nightcap; so that we were assured they would also be sound enough, in fact two or three never got to bed at all.

Frederick was master of the ceremonies, with Alice as a most useful assistant. As I said before, all were flushed with excitement and ready for anything; they were all of the most aristocratic families, and our blue blood seemed fairly to course through our veins. When all had assembled in Alice's apartment they found her attired in a simple, long chemise de nuit. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, "I believe we are all agreed for an out and out romp; you see my costume, how do you like it?" and a most wicked smile, "I hope it does not display the contour of my figure too much," drawing it tightly about her so as to show the outline of her beautiful buttocks, and also displaying a pair of ravishing legs in pink silk stockings.

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo Alice! we will follow your example," burst from all sides. Each one skipped back to his or her room and reappeared in mufti; but the tails of the young gentlemen's shirts caused a deal of laughter, by being too short.

Alice.- "Well, I'm sure, gentlemen, I did not think your undergarments were so indecently short."

Frederick, with a laugh, caught hold of his sister's chemise, and tore a great piece off all around, so that she was in quite a short smock, which only half-covered her fair bottom.

Alice was crimson with blushes, and half inclined to be angry, but recovering herself, she laughed, "Ah! Fred, what a shame to serve me so, but I don't mind if you make us all alike."

The girls screamed, and the gentlemen made a rush; it was a most exciting scene; the young ladies retaliated by tearing the shirts of their tormentors, and this first skirmish only ended when the whole company were reduced to a complete state of nudity; all were in blushes as they gazed upon the variety of male and female charms exposed to view.

Frederick, advancing with a bumper of champagne.- "We've all heard of Nuda Veritas, now let's drink to her health; the first time we are in her company, I'm sure she will be most charming and agreeable."

All joined in this toast, the wine inflamed our desires, there was not a male organ present but what was in a glorious state of erection.

Alice.- "Look, ladies, what a lot of impudent fellows, they need not think we are going to surrender anyhow to their youthful lust; they shall be all blindfolded, and then we will arm ourselves with good birch rods, then let it be everyone for themselves and Cupid's dart for us all."

"Hear, hear," responded on all sides, and handkerchiefs were soon tied over their eyes, and seven good birch rods handed round to the ladies. "Now, gentlemen, catch who you can," laughed Alice, slashing right and left into the manly group, her example being followed by the other girls; the room was quite large enough and a fine romp ensued, the girls were as lithe and active as young fawns, and for a long time sorely tried the patience of their male friends, who tumbled about in all directions, only to get an extra dose of birch on their plump posteriors before they could regain their feet.

At last the Honble. Miss Vavasour stumbled over a prostrate gentleman, who happened to be the young Marquis of Bucktown, who grasped her firmly round the waist, and clung to his prize, as a shower of cuts greeted the writhing pair.

"Hold, hold," cried Alice, "she's fairly caught and must submit to be offered as a victim on the Altar of Love."

Lucy quickly wheeled a small soft couch into the centre of the room. The gentlemen pulled off their bandages, and all laughingly assisted to place the pair in position; the lady underneath with a pillow under her buttocks, and the young marquis, on his knees, fairly planted between her thighs. Both were novices, but a more beautiful couple it would be impossible to conceive; he was a fine young fellow of seventeen, with dark hair and eyes, whilst her brunette style of complexion was almost a counterpart of his; their eyes were similar also, and his instrument, as well as her cunny, were finely ornamented with soft curly black hair; with the skin drawn back, the firey purple head of his cock looked like a large ruby, as, by Frederick's suggestion, he presented it to her luscious-looking vermilion gap, the lips of which were just slightly open as she lay with her legs apart. The touch seemed to electrify her, the blushing face turned to a still deeper crimson as the dart of love slowly entered the outwarks of her virginity. Fred continued to act as mentor, by whispering in the young gallant's ear, who also was covered with blushes, but feeling his steed fairly in contact with the throbbing matrix of the lovely girl beneath him, he at once plunged forward to the attack, pushing, shoving, and clasping her round the body with all his strength, whilst he tried to stifle her cries of pain by glueing his lips to hers. It was a case of Veni, Vidi, Vici. His onset was too impetuous to be withstood, and she lay in such a passive favourable position that the network of her hymen was broken at the first charge, and he was soon in full possession up to the roots of his hair. He rested a moment, she opened her eyes, and with a faint smile said, "Ah! It was indeed sharp, but I can already begin to feel the pleasures of love. Go on now, dear boy, our example will soon fire the others to imitate us," heaving up her bottom as a challenge, and pressing him fondly to her bosom. They ran a delightful course, which filled us all with voluptuous excitement, and as they died away in a mutual spend, someone put out the lights. All was laughing confusion, gentlemen trying to catch a prize, kissing and sighing.

I felt myself seized by a strong arm, a hand groped for my cunny, whilst a whisper in my ear said: "How delightful! It's you, dear little Beatrice. I can't make a mistake, as yours is the only hairless thing in the company. Kiss me, dear, I'm bursting to be into your tight little affair." Lips met lips in a luscious kiss. We found ourselves close to Alice's bed, my companion put me back on it, and taking my legs under his arms, was soon pushing his way up my longing cunny. I nipped him as tightly as possible; he was in ecstasies and spent almost directly, but keeping his place, he put me, by his vigorous action, into a perfect frenzy of love. Spend seemed to follow spend, till we had each of us done it six times, and the last time I so forgot myself as to fairly bite his shoulder in delight. At length he withdrew, without telling his name. The room was still in darkness, and love engagements were going on all round. I had two more partners after that, but only one go with each. I shall never forget that night as long as a breath remains in my body.

Next day I found out, through Fred, that Charlie Vavasour had been my first partner, and that he himself believed he had had his sister in the melee, which she afterwards admitted to me was a fact, although she thought he did not know it, and the temptation to enjoy her brother was too much for her.

This orgie has been the means of establishing a kind of secret society amongst the circle of our friends. Anyone who gives a pressure of the hand and asks: "Do you remember Fred's birthday?" is free to indulge in love with those who understand it and I have since been present at many repetitions of that birthday fun.

Part III.
We returned to school, and I kept up a regular correspondence with Frederick, the letters to and fro being enclosed in those of Alice. Time crept on, but as you can imagine as well or better than I can relate all the kinds of salacious amusements we girls used to indulge in, I shall skip over the next few years till I arrived at the age of seventeen; my guardians were in a hurry to present me at Court, and have me brought out in hopes that I might soon marry and relieve them of their trust.

Alice was so attached to me that since my first visit to her home, she had solicited her aunt to arrange with my guardians for my permanent residence with her during my minority, which quite fell in with their views, as it enabled me to see more society, and often meet gentlemen who might perhaps fall in love with my pretty face.

Lady St. Jerome undertook to present both Alice and myself; she was an aunt, and mentioned in her letter that unfortunately a star of the first magnitude would also be presented at the same drawing room, but still we might have a faint chance of picking up young Lothair, the great matrimonial prize of the season, if he did not immediately fall in love with the beautiful Lady Corisande, and that we should meet them both at Crecy House, at the Duchess's ball, in celebration of the presentation of her favourite daughter, for which she had obtained invitations for us. For nearly three weeks we were in a flutter of excitement, making the necessary preparations for our debut. My mother's jewels were reset to suit the fashion of the day, and every three or four days we went to town to see our Court milliner.

In company with Alice and her aunt, we arrived at Lord St. Jerome's town residence in St. James' Square, the evening before the eventful day; her ladyship was a most charming person of about thirty, without family, who introduced us before dinner to her niece, Miss Clare Arundel, Father Coleman, the family confessor, and Monsignore Berwick, the chamberlain of Pio Nono. The dinner was exquisite, and we passed a delightful evening, amused by the quiet humour of the confessor, and the sparkling wit of Monsignore, who seemed to studiously avoid religious subjects. Miss Arundel, with her beautiful, pensive, violet eyes, and dark brown golden hair, seemed particularly fascinated by the sallies of the latter, whilst there was a something remarked by both Alice and myself, which led us to suspect the existence of some curious tie between the two ecclesiastics and the ladies of the household.

Lord St. Jerome was not in town. At our special request, Alice and myself shared the same room, which opened into a spacious corridor, at one end of which was a small chapel or oratory. Our minds were so unsettled by the thoughts of the morrow, and also hopes of meeting some of our old friends in town, especially the Vavasours, that sleep was quite banished from our eyes; suddenly Alice started up in bed, with, "Hist! there's someone moving about the corridor." She sprang out of bed and softly opened our door, whilst I followed and stood close behind her. "They're gone into the oratory," she said. "I saw a figure just in the act of passing in; I will know what is going on; we can easily slip into some of the empty rooms, if we hear anyone coming."

So saying, she put on her slippers and threw a shawl over her shoulders, and I followed her example; ready for any kind of adventure, we cautiously advanced along the corridor, soon we arrived at the door of the oratory, and could hear several low voices inside, but were afraid to push the door ajar for fear of being observed.

"Hush!" whispered Alice, "I was here when quite a little girl, and now remember that old Lady St. Jerome, who has been dead some time, used to use this room next to the chapel, and had a private entrance made for herself direct from the room into the oratory. If we can get in there," she said, turning the handle, "we shall be in a fine place to see everything, as the room is never used, and said to be haunted by the old lady." The door yielded to her pressure, and we slipped into a gloomy room, just able to see a little by the light of the moon.

(To be continued.)

A Taste For Foreigners.
(Imitated from Martial.)

To the French, to the Germans and Swedes, Easy Harriet, you give up your charms; Italians and Russians besides Have all had their turns in your arms;

You despise not the Dutch, nor the Danes, Mulattoes, or Negroes, or Finns; In you they may all quench their flames. Whatever the tint of their skins.

You reject the capless concerns, Or the circumcised Turk or the Jew; In short, every nation by turns. Has had an erection in you;

Your fancy is truly uncommon, The reason I wish I could find; While by birth you're a true Englishwoman, That no true English prick's to your mind.

Adultery's the Go!
(A Song before the time of the New Divorce Court.)

When we were boys the world was good, But that is long ago; Now all the wisest folks are lewd For Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, Adultery's the go!

Quite tired of leading virtuous lives, Though spotless as the snow. Among the chaste and pious wives, Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, &c.

Long life then to the House of Lords. They know a thing or two; You see from all their grand awards, That Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, &c.

And Lady Barlow, Mrs. Hare. Case, Clarke, and Bolders; Teed, Ashton, James, and all declare Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, &c.

Some husbands still are jealous, And guard the furbelow, But spite such prudish fellows. Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, &c.

Horn'd cuckolds were mad raging bulls, A century ago; Now, they're tame oxen, silly fools, For Adultery's the go.

The go, the go, the go, &c.

Then, hey for Doctors' Commons, With horned beasts arow; For man's delight, and woman's, Adultery's the go.

Her Very Soul.
On Sundays, in a church like this, I joy to face the blushing Miss, Eye within eye, agog for bliss, Through touching not, I only kiss, Her very soul! Her very soul!

She falls at once into my plan, I guess she prays, behind her fan, "Oh, for a man! A real man! To satiate, as he only can, Her very soul! Her very soul!

Heavens! what a glance! see her suck, And lick her lips, on fire for cock. I see her frisky bottom buck, While with the prick of lust I fuck, Her very soul! Her very soul!

First Rondeau.
Ten years ago, on Christmas day, Fair Helen stole my heart away, I went to church - but not to pray. Ten years ago.

To pray? Yes - pray to Helen's eyes; Ah! would that we had been more wise; To-day, she would not recognize Him whom she kissed in ecstasies, Ten years ago.

Second Rondeau.
Again we've met, and now I find, Her still more luscious to my mind; She was not to such pranks inclined. Ten years ago.

Though now a second time she's wed. Hers is a most lascivious bed; Though thirty years she now has sped. She fucks still better than she did. Ten years ago.

Lines Written Under Her Portrait.
Such Helen was! religious, young and fair; A faithful spouse, and blest with babies dear; But in the church, while week by week she prayed, An amorous noble long her charms surveyed;

Sunday by Sunday, seated near her pew. He kept the goddess of his heart in view; And when the Tenth Command was duly read, "I covet thee," his burning glances said-

Her humble rank forbade acquaintance free, Yet high enough it was to guard her modesty; Her husband was a gamester fierce and rude, He fled the town, and other loves pursu'd;

She on her jointure fair remained at home, Close guarded by his mother and her own; Two months at church, she stood the siege of sighs, Silence, that spoke, and eloquence of eyes;

Could virtue longer last? at length she fell; No more, no more, can happy lovers tell. And mark the sequel! rashly she had sworn She ne'er would to her faithless lord return;

Her prudent lover urged a course more wise, His vigour had more force than his advice; She would not listen, till her swelling zone, Proved his kind counsel wiser than her own.

Just at that juncture her good man returned, In time to adopt the babe, that proves him horn'd; The wedding ring upon her hand you see Is not her wedding ring, 'twas given by me;

The one her husband gave her, here, here, behold! Around my finger wreaths its hallow'd gold; Her diamond brooch and clasps all brightly shine, His gifts indeed! the locks they hold are mine;

Far, far away, I now her absence mourn, Grant me, O Venus! grant a quick return; Keep Helen virtuous, till again we meet, And revel in the bliss so naughty and so sweet.

Up the Chimney.
When Captain Jones of Halifax, Was put in winter quarters, His landlady, a widow, had The prettiest of daughters.

The Captain sued her lovingly, The girl was gay and ready To join her lot with his and be The noble Captain's lady.

Their wedding was deferred; but soon. Impatient for the pleasure, He found his way into her room, And swiv'd her at his leisure.

The chambermaid, who set to rights The different pots and pans. Warn'd mistress there was ne'er a drop In that of this young man's.

The mother asked him tenderly, "As you're to wed my daughter. Pray tell me why - my dear young man, Why - why - you make no water?"

"Ah, Madam!" cried he, "cannot you The real reason guess? The fact is that I go to bed, So full of tenderness.

I get eager for the bliss, I feel so stiff and hot, That really I'm obliged to piss Right up the Chimney Pot."

In the wars in India, in the year 1800, Major Torrens's party was pursuing some of the enemy. One day, while they were dining and very merry, a sergeant came and reported to the Major that two prisoners were brought in, one old and one young. The Sergeant requested orders regarding them. The Major merrily answered: "Oh, take them away and frig them." The Sergeant retired. In an hour he returned, and respectfully made this report: "Please your honour, we have frigged the young one. but we can't make the old man's cock stand."

This story was related to me, in 1818, by Torrens, who was then an old General at Madras.

Nursery Rhymes.
There was a young lady of Harrow. Who complained that her Cunt was too narrow, For times without number She would use a cucumber, But could not accomplish a marrow.

There was a young lady of Glasgow, And fondly her lover did ask, "Oh, Pray allow me a fuck," But she said, "No, my duck, But you may, if you please, up my arse go."

There was a young man had the art Of making a capital tart, With a handful of shit, Some snot and a spit, And he'd flavor the whole with a fart.

There was an old man of Connaught. Whose prick was remarkably short, When he got into bed The old woman said, "This isn't a prick, it's a wart."

There was a gay Countess of Bray, And you may think it odd when I say, That in spite of high station, Rank and education, She always spelt Cunt with a K.

There was an old parson of Lundy, Fell asleep in his vestry on Sunday; He awoke with a scream, "What, another wet dream, This comes of not frigging since Monday."

There was a strong man of Drumrig, Who one day did seven times frig; He buggered three Sailors, Four Jews and two Tailors, And ended by fucking a pig.

There was an Old Man of the Mountain. Who frigged himself into a fountain, Fifteen times had he spent. Still he wasn't content. He simply got tired of the counting.

There was a young man of Nantucket. Who went down a well in a bucket; The last words he spoke. Before the rope broke, Were, "Arsehole, you bugger, and suck it."

A native of Havre de Grace Once tired of Cunt, said "I'll try arse." He unfolded his plan To another young man, Who said, "Most decidedly, my arse!"

At the Parish Church, South Hackney, by the Rev. C. A. White, John Henry Bottomfeldt, of Hamburgh, to Sarah Jane Greens, of South Hackney. (Vide "Daily Telegraph," January 3, 1875). How lovely everything now seems When joined in one by Hymen's belt, For now John Henry has his Greens, And Sarah Jane her Bottom-feldt.