Anonymous - Pearl

Ach, cursed luck! thought I, as we settled ourselves, to be thus interrupted at such a time. But on seeing the lady enter my grief was changed to joy, for she was certainly the most voluptuous and beautiful creature my eyes ever looked on. With what dignity, what grace she crossed the room. What graceful ease reigned in every motion. A well-turned ankle, a pretty little foot, that noiselessly tripped across the floor, gave me a very good opinion of what was to be found above the garter.

Rosalie introduced the lady to me as Laura, daughter of the Count de B—. Seeing there was no further opportunity of paying my compliments privately to Rosalie, I took my leave to make other calls.

I spent some six or eight days in Paris, leaving orders with jewelers and silversmiths for every variety of fancy articles, not forgetting to have my banker write to his agent in London, to procure me a swift sailing yacht of the largest size, fitted up in the richest manner, without regard to cost, and to be manned with a crew ready and willing to do any service I might name. She was ordered to be sent to the chateau on the coast of Brittany, where a small creek, putting in from the open sea, made an excellent harbour for a vessel.

Having finished my business, I hastened down to the chateau, taking with me a first-rate architect and a number of workmen.

In a short time I had converted a large saloon on the second floor into a magnificent hall. Its sides and ends were covered with flowers and evergreens, making a perpetual summer. On each side stood a row of statues of nude figures, which I had purchased in Paris. At either end played a beautiful fountain, while in the centre was a large marble basin, in which played a third fountain. The figure that cast up the water was a statue of a female lying down, so arranged that she seemed to be floating on her back in the water, the jet d'eau burst from her cunt, and ascended nearly to the ceiling, making a shower bath to anyone who would be seated on the figure.

The side windows opened on to a balcony, which overlooked the sea.

On the opposite side of the corridor I had converted the whole suite of apartments into one large room, which as soon as the upholsterer arrived was to be furnished with fifty beds.

The suite of apartments on the same floor of the adjoining wing I had converted into one large bathing room. In this room was a marble bath, in which fifty people could bathe at the same time. A small fish pond stood in the garden. It turned into a small lake of about one hundred yards in diameter.

(To be continued.)

FRANK FANE — A BALLAD.

The master said to the Schoolboy,

As it fell on a day,

"All the rest are to go,

Frank Fane is to stay.

I set you all free

From the birch and the cane,

Not a boy shall be swished,

Not a boy, but Frank Fane."

Said the Merry Master,

"Frank Fane is to stay,

To be flogged with a flogging,

As good as your play.

Frank Fane is to stay,

To be whipped in the hall,

To be whipped, till his whipping

Atones for you all.

Any boy that enjoys

A fine flogging to see,

I give leave to stay here,

With Frank Fane and me:

They will see his white bottom,

When they see it again,

I don't think they'd fancy

It belongs to Frank Fane."

While the rest went a playing,

In the hall there were four,

Frank Fane and his Master,

And two fellows more.

There were three there for pleasure,

And one there for pain;

How they giggled and grinned,

At the funk of Frank Fane!

"Now loosen your braces,

And lower your breeks,

And show your companions

Your bare nether cheeks.

Make haste to the closet,

And bring a good rod,

Or I'll cut you to ribands,

You shuffler, by God!"

"O master! dear Master!

Have pity for once!"

"What, pity for a truant,

A thief and a dunce!

For once, and at once,

You shall smart for all three,

A three-fold example

Your bottom shall be."

Now his comrades they took him,

Each grasping a hand,

And gaily accomplished

The Master's command.

They swayed down his body,

Rolled up his shirt-tail,

And poised up his buttocks,

That a stroke mightn't fail.

Then they tied down his legs,

That the skin might draw tight,

That each lash might draw blood

To the Master's delight;

Then they twitched at his hair,

And chucked up his chin,

And cried out, "Good Master!

It's time to begin."

Now Arthur's and Redgy's

Own bottoms were sore,

But they knew that Frank Fane's

Would be terrible more.

And each was too glad

To forget his own grief,

In seeing Frank's flesh

In the state of raw beef.

Said Arthur to Redgy,

"We've often been stripped,

All three of us together,

And jollily whipped;

But now we're both masters,

And, crickey! it's fun,

To see Frank Fane catching

Three floggings in one."

The first was three dozen,

Laid in with a will,

"Just enough," quoth the Master,

"For a boy in the bill."

Then he sat down and rested

His arm for awhile

And looked at his work,

With a grim kind of smile.

Then he gave a fresh sentence—

"So much for the Dunce!

Now five dozen for the Truant,

But not all at once.

This rod is all splintered,

Go fetch me two more;

No, two's poor allowance,

So, Redgy, bring four!"

"There'll be two for the Truant,

And two for the Thief,

And if that does not bring

That fat bottom to grief—

Then Keate was a fumbler,

And Busby a fool,

And I'm not a Master

Of Whippingham School!"

Then the right trusty Master

Went at him like mad,

And loud were the prayers

And shrieks of the lad.

Said Arthur, "You coward!"

Said Redgy, "Keep cool!

Your bottom's a credit

To Whippingham School!"

But the Master is pausing!

Is it mercy or fear?

Ah! no, it's to toss off

A mug of strong beer.

And refreshed with his tipple,

He's at him again,

He never seems tired

Of swishing Frank Fane!

He pauses once more. — "Boys!"

He cries, "Hold him tight,

I remember I've got

A short letter to write.

If the creature's rebellious,

Let him taste this sweet cane,

I'll be back in ten minutes

To finish Frank Fane."

So the cane on his shoulders

Went rat-a-tap-tap,

And in turns they examined

His bum like a map;

Such outlines! Such islands!

Such mountains of weals

And such pretty red rivers

Running down t'wards the heels!

Here's the Master returning,

A cigar 'tween his lips,

Hurrah! for the Master

Who smokes while he whips!

He knows how to tackle

Two pleasures at once—

The taste of the baccy

The smart of the Dunce.

So he puffed like a demon!

And fiercely cut in,

Till you hardly could pick out

An inch of whole skin.

Then he took a new country,

And he striped the white thighs,

Till the old hall re-echoed

A tempest of cries.

O! firm was his muscle!

And supple his wrist,

And he handled the Rod,

With a terrible twist,

But muscles grow weary,

And arms lose their powers,

There's an end for all nice things,

For floggings — like flowers.

Shrieks Frank Fane, "I'm dying!"

Says Redgy, "You a'nt,

And if you go off

In a bit of a faint,

We'll soon thrash you back

Into living again,

You've not done with swishing

Just yet — Master Fane!"