Free The Power of Mesmerism

was about to close an interior door, which half open gave a view
into his own private quarters, when, a sudden idea striking him, Frank
said, "You won't mind, Thomas, if we take a peep into your
sanctum—unless you have got a young lady you would rather we did not
see. I only want to let Mr. Mortimer see how cosy your room is,
besides, you know, I have often had a sly smoke with you there on wet
days when I was home for the holidays before, and I know you have
always got some nice clean glasses in your cupboard, if not anything
better than water to offer us. But I have taken care of that and
brought a good flask of finest brandy. I got the housekeeper to give me
some of papa's real
vieux cognac
. It's ever so old and goes down like
milk. Just the thing, Thomas, to keep you up to your work when you have
a nice girl. But I forget you never do anything of the sort, eh! How
about little Lucy, the under-housemaid, who I hear had to go home with
a big belly not long ago?"
    "Lord, sir!" said Thomas, quite enjoying Frank's joke, "that'll be
another of old Stroker's kids when it's born. He did it when she went
up to be taught her confirmation lesson. I'm told he confirmed seven
girls in fucking, this examination. He's a regular ram of a parson, and
will soon be the father of all the young'uns in the parish. I wonder
Master let Miss Ethel go to him at all. I always suspected the old
fellow after the way he treated me."
    They entered the snug little bedroom, where everything was a clean as a
new pin, and seated themselves on the only two chairs that were there,
whilst the groom brought out the glasses and fetched a jug of bright
sweet spring water from the pump outside.
    Frank, mixing a rather stiffish drop, said, "Now, Thomas, drink the
Rev. Mr. Stroker's health, and then tell us all about his tricks with
you."
    Himself and Harry also took a little of the brandy. And Thomas, pressed
to begin, cleared his throat and commenced:
    "Well, Mr. Frank and Mr. Mortimer, I don't mind letting you into the
secret, but the fact is every time I think of the old rascal's
indecency it makes my cock stand, but you must not tell a soul what I
now tell you."
    "All right, go on, old fellow, just a drop more brandy to encourage
your bashfulness, eh!" laughed Frank.
    Thomas, wiping his mouth after a good swig at the brandy and water:
"Well, sirs, that righteous old sinner, as an Irishman would say, began
by asking me questions about who made me. If I knew there was a God and
a Devil. Then about the world and the flesh, and so on, a lot of
rubbish out of the church prayerbook. 'You know, Thomas, my boy,' he
said, 'that the "flesh" means having to do with girls and other dirty
indecent things which come into the heads of rude boys. Now tell me if
you ever did anything of that kind with other boys or girls?'
    "This was rather a poser for me. I didn't like to tell a downright lie
and knew I had been a party to one or two little games of that sort,
such as we used to do in the hayfield, throwing the girls down, turning
up their clothes, and showing them our cocks, which no doubt the old
rascal knew. I could feel my face was turning quite red with confusion.
'Ha, I see what it is, Thomas! I must thoroughly examine you and tell
by the look of your penis' (that is the word I think he used, but you
know he meant my cock), as he ordered me to unbutton and show him my
privates, and he would soon tell if I had been up to any of the Devil's
wickedness.
    "As soon as I was exposed to him he told me to draw the skin of my cock
back, which I did.
    "'Do it again, my boy, there now, again—two or three times mind.'
    "Then I expect he saw slight signs of a rise, saying, 'Do it
quicker—quicker, boy' till I had the horn quite stiff.
    "'My gracious! You're finely grown for your age, Thomas. Now did you
never show that to a gal?'
    "'Well, sir,' I said, rather shamefaced at what he was making me do, 'I
did once, but only once, sir, and Polly Jones felt it with her hand,
and let