“In apparent surprise I cried out what is that pressing so hard against my body; at the same time moving my hand and laying hold of it. It throbbed violently to the touch. I threw the sheet off to see what it could be.
“‘Dear me,’ said I, ‘how is this? What a change! it was not like that when I put you to bed last night. How has it become in this strange state?’
“‘It is so, dear cousin, when I want to pee in the morning, and goes down afterwards.’
“‘Then jump up and pee, and I want to do the same.’
“He took the pot and piddled. I took another and piddled, standing with legs wide apart, and holding the chamber pot partly between and partly under my thighs, so that he could perfectly see the whole of my cunt, and the flow of water from it.
“He stared with astonishment; it was really the first time he had any knowledge that women were differently formed down there than he was.
“‘How funny,’ cried he, ‘you piddle from a chink, and have no doodle. I should like to see it nearer.’
“I told him I should lie down on my back on the bed, and he could look as much as he pleased, but he must never tell anybody what he would see, because it was a great secret.
“He promised, of course. I lay down on my back, having first thrown off my chemise, stretched wide my legs, told him he would see better if he knelt between my legs, some slight distance from the object to be seen.
“He got up and began a close examination, admiring the immense quantity of hair I had already got, opened the lips, caressed what he called the little doodle, my clitoris, which was rampant with lewdness. I told him to feel inside with his middle finger; he pushed it up—I nipped it, to his astonishment, so that he could hardly withdraw it. Nature, unknown to him, acted her part; his cock, which had gone down after piddling, stood stiffer than ever. I laid hold of it, and said—