MY SECRET LIFE
laughed and said, ‘perhaps we would put our things together and make babies.’ I was frightened to say anything, for fear she would find out I knew to much; I think she has been crossed in love.”
I was twiddling Charlotte’s quim as I was never tired of doing, something in the sensation I suppose reminded her, for laughing she went on: “You know what you did to me the other night.” “What?” said I not recollecting. “You know, with your finger.” “Oh! frig.” “Yes, well Mary does that; I was awake one night, and was quite quiet, when I heard Mary breathing hard, and felt her elbow go jog, jog, just touching my side, then she gave a sigh, and all was quiet. I went to sleep, and have only just thought of it.” She had heard or felt this jog from the cook before, so we both concluded, that she frigged herself, Charlotte knew what frigging was.
“Do you recollect your mamma’s birthday?” said Charlotte, “she sent us down a bottle of sherry, the gardener was to have some, but did not; so we were both a little fuddled when we went to bed. When Mary was undressed she pulled up her clothes to her hips, and looking at herself said, ‘my legs are twice as big as yours.’ Then we made a bet on it and measured; she lost, but her thigh was half as big again round as mine; then she thew herself on her back and cocked up her legs, opening them for a minute. I said ‘Lor, Mary, what ever are you doing?’ ‘Ah I’ said she, ‘women’s legs were made to open’, and there it ended. I never heard her before say or do anything improper, she is most particular.” If Charlotte had been older or wiser, she would not have extolled the naked beauties of a fellow servant to her lover, for the description of the
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