“Are you often in the Strand?” “When I gets out I likes walking in it, and looking at the shops, — I do if mother's out for the day.” “Does she know you are out?” The girl who had been lying on her back with her head full towards me, turned on her side, and giggling said in a sort of confidential way, “Bless you no, — she'd beat me if she knew, — when she be out I locks them up, and takes the key, and then I goes back to them, — I've got the key in my pocket, and shall be home before mother, — she is out for the whole day.”

“Do the children know you're out?” “No, I says to them, 'You be quiet now, I'm going to the yard.' ” “What's the yard?” said I not reflecting. The girl thought a minute, chuckled, turned her head, and was silent, she was actually blushing. “What's the yard?” Suddenly it struck me, “Going to the privy?” She burst out laughing. “Yes that's it, I say I'm going to the privy, and then I comes out with her, and they can't get out, so they are all right, and we go back together if she's with me; if she ain't I go back by myself, — there”, — and she stopped satisfied with her explanation. “They may set fire to themselves”, said I. “There ain't no fire after we have had breakfast, I puts it out, and lights it at night if mother wants hot water.”

“What do you do with yourself all day?” “I washed both of them, I gives them food if we've got any, then washes the floor and everything, and then washes myself, then I looks out of the winer.” “Wash your-self.” “Yes I washes from head to foot allus.” “Have you a tub?” “No we've only got a pail and a bowl, but I'm beautiful clean, — mother tells every one I'm the beautifullest clean gal a mother ever had, — I wash everything, mother's too tired. Sometimes we all go out and walk, but that's at night; sometime I lays abed nearly all day.” She was beautifully clean in her flesh, her linen was clean, its color awful; but what could be expected from a pail, a bowl, and one room to dry things in. “You can't always be washing.” “No, I do all the mending and making, — look how my finger is pricked”, said she showing it.

I had been smoothing and feeling her all over, her unwashed cunt had come in for its share of my attentions, I had been twiddling it till outside it was dry. Recurring to the never-failing, and always charming theme, I got close to her, kissed her, my fingers sought the innermost recesses of her tight little orifice. “Don't you like fucking? — does it give you pleasure?” “It never gived me much pleasure that I know on”, she replied. “But you don't dislike it?” “Not if they don't hurt me.” “Do they ever?” “One or two have, if they push hard, — but I shan't say no more, — there.”

There was a frankness, openness, and freshness about this girl which delighted me. Question after question I put, and would be answered; if evaded I put it in another shape, but she seemed willing mostly to reply. I put into her little head things she had never dreamed of, and all the time kept rubbing her clitoris, probing her little quim, distending it, tickling it, and exciting her till she wriggled her little fat bum.

“Do I hurt you ?” “Oh! no,” — “let me then,” — “oh! don't sir, — I wish you would not.” “Did you never enjoy the prick up you? — never enjoy a fuck! —you shall enjoy it with me.” “Don't now”, said she turning herself round as I frigged on. “Feel my prick dear.” She did not need a second invitation. “Is it not stiff?” “Yes, and big.” “Yes, — yes, — but oh ! don't sir, — take away your hand, — ah !” I talked on, frig- ging and tickling, my prick throbbing, but restraining myself, for instinct told me she was about to enjoy a pleasure she had never enjoyed yet. All at once she relinquished my prick, a slight heaving of her belly, and her eyes closed, then I knew she was ready to discharge.

I ceased to frig, her eyes opened, her thighs which had closed opened again. I joined my body to hers, and we were one, I fucked, — we fucked now, for the little lass in a minute or two was dissolving in pleasure whilst I was pissing my sperm up her, groaning as the tightness of her little cunt squeezed my sensitive prick. If Kitty was not a harlot before, she was from that minute she had her spend with me.

She laid quite quiet till nature dissolved our fleshy union by uncunting me, then I laid by her side, she on her back, her thighs wide open, her eyes closed.

“Don't it give you pleasure?” After repeating that half-a-dozen times she said, “I don't know.” “Yes you do, — did you spend?” “I don't know what a girl's spending is”, said she. “Did my prick give you pleasure, — tell me Kitty?” At length she said yes, and she had never had pleasure with men before. (Two years afterwards she repeated that the first pleasure she ever had with a man was with me.) “Wash yourself.” “I'll wash when I go home.” “Wash now you little beast.” “What does it matter to you?” “Wash you little devil.” She washed carefully, and whilst doing so, “Piddle”, said I. “I can't abear to piddle before a man, what a funny man you are.” “Piddle my dear”, and the little dear piddled.

Wiping herself dry she stopped in the middle of the operation and asked, “Why wouldn't you have the other gal?” “What do you want me to have her for?” “She's very poor.” “What do you do with your money?” “Buy things to eat, — mother's very poor, we often ain't got enough to eat.” “Then you get a little money by being gay.” “I ain't gay I tell you.” “Well your friend is I suppose, and gets money.” “No she doesn't, — she isn't gay either, — no man ain't ever done it to her, she's such a foule, — but she would a come in to-day with you, she said she would, and she were just a comin when you sent her off, — she promised me, she'd let yer if you wanted, but she is a foule though.”

“I don't believe that.” “It's God's truth though, she ain't, she says she ain't; she knows what men want gals for, but she's never let any one, — I know she ain't, she is frightened.” “Have you looked at her cunt?” “Often”, said Kitty. “And she's looked at yours?” “Of course she has, — she lives over us I tell you, I go up to her, and she comes down to me when mother's out, — I wash her.” “You seem fend of washing.” “I likes things clean.” I thought for an instant, “It may be true, I should like to see her cunt if she's never been poked, — what object has this little lass in pressing this so?” Then said I, “Tell me the truth, and I'll give you another shilling, — don't lie, — I shall soon tell whether you're lying or not, and getting up”, “here is three and six (I had it on the mantle-piece), here's a shilling for her, and there is another. If you answer truly, I'll see you again; but I'll never see you again if I find you are making up lies,—come here.” And I sat down.

She came forward, I pulled her between my naked legs, her naked thighs met mine, her little cunt was close to my prick, I put my hand round her fat little bum, and looked her in the face, pressing her belly close to mine.”

“What do you want me to have her for?” “Only cos she's so poor, — why she only gets sixpence a day, —she works at sack-making, — oh ! isn't it hard !—and her hands if you seed em, are hard and brown, stained with the string, and what the works with, — mother wants me to work at them at home, but I won't — I tells her I'd run away first, — she is so little she can't carry the sacks home as other gals do; so a strong young woman who works at sacks carries them home for her, and charges her twopence for it, — they carries them home on the top of their heads; but she is too little, she is.” (At that time women worked at sack-making, and carried them home on their heads.)

“Can she put her finger up her cunt?” “I shan't tell you all that”, said she turning nasty. “Is her cunt as open as yours?” “No it ain't.” “Then she can't get her finger up.” “Oh ! you are a rum cove, you are”, said she breaking away from me, “I never seed the like of you. I must go, — tell me what time it is.” “Half-past four.” “I'll go, — I give the children some-thing to eat about this time.” “Come here, or I won't give you the shillings.” We resumed our positions. “Are you sure she has never had a man?” “Never, she's such a foule, — she says she'd like to, and she'd like the money, and yet she won't, — she is such a foule.” “How long have you done it?” “Only since we have lived this side of the water, after father died.” “How many men have you had?” “I shan't say, — I don't recollect, — it arn't no business of yourn, —you don't like me.” “Yes I like you, but I won't tell, — no it isn't a dozen, — I shan't say who first did it, — I shan't then, — it isn't a dozen, — yes I am quite sure, I don't think it's ten, but it may be about that, I think it's eight, — they didn't all do it to me, no they didn't, — one on em only put his hands up my clothes, and went off in a minute; another pulled up my clothes, and looked at me, and then he—” She stopped, and I could not get her to say what, so promised her another shilling. “I don't know what he did.” “Frig himself?” “I don't know what you call it, — yes he did that”, said the girl bursting into a roar of laughter when I showed her the operation. “I looked at him, and he went away without speaking, — he only gave me half-a-crown; but an old gentleman one day gave me a gold bit of ten shillings.” She began counting on her fingers. I thought she was reckoning her gains, she was a long time at it, doing it over and over again; at length, “It's seven”, said she. “What?” “Gentlemen, — you make eight.”