U pon his banner writ in words of light.
N o other motive can supply the power,
T o cheer the martyr in his dying hour!
D ying because he would maintain the right,
E ver should rule in place of boastful might!
A nd so the martyr's name shall never die,
R ound the whole world the stirring tale shall fly.
P eoples unborn his noble name shall learn,
A nd his example make their bosoms burn;
P atriots shall hail him as a brother true,
A nd write his history for all to view!
THE DISAGREEABLE PASSENGER.
A Yorkshire excursion train the other day contained a rather morose-looking individual, who being offered the newspaper, grumpily replied: "I don't read!"
"Will you take a cigar then?" asked another passenger.
"I don't smoke!"
Presently a third offered him his flask.
"I don't drink!
This happened in a carriage with open compartments, so a clergyman who had overheard it all and thinking that perhaps a little intellectual conversation would be more to his taste, leaned over the back of the seat and said: "Would you like to step over here with us, there is only myself, wife and daughter?"
"I don't fuck!" was all he got for his kind intention. And we need not say that he was both disgusted and chagrined as the laughter of the others pealed through the carriage.
A QUESTION OF LUNACY.
A lady the other day, wishing to get an imbecile son into an asylum, consulted a doctor about a certificate and he naturally enquired as to the actions of the alleged lunatic.
Lady — I must tell you that lately at Christmas he would get up at night and eat all the mince-pie in the pantry.
Doctor — That is only gluttony.
Lady — There's something awfully shocking to tell: The other day he threw the servant down the stairs and fucked her!
Doctor — Mere depravity, that's, all. Now allow me to explain the difference to you, Madame! If you had told me that your son had eaten the servant and fucked the mince-pies there could have been no doubt about the necessity of confining him in an asylum.
THE SULTAN'S REVERIE.
An Extract from the Pleasures of Cruelty.
This brings to my mind, says Lucidora, a tale I have heard of the late Sultan, who, being middle aged and worn out with the amorous exertions in the well-filled seraglio, determines to seek some fresh excitement; everything seems so insipid and blasй to him.
At first he is at a loss how to amuse himself, but one day, discussing with his chief eunuch the arrangements and routine of the harem, a circumstance which never gave him a thought before suddenly gives him an idea that he may get both satisfaction and excitement from cunt, viz., that when he came to the throne (he was a nephew of the previous Commander of the Faithful), he left the Sultana Valide unmolested, who in the lifetime of his predecessor had intrigued in every possible manner to set aside his succession in favour of her own son contrary to the usual Osmanif custom. Since which time the baffled Sultana, a beautiful lady of about thirty, had peevishly shown her hatred of him by keeping the strictest seclusion, only walking by herself quite unattended in the most secluded part of the extensive gardens of the seraglio,
The Sultan had heard of the once famous beauty of this proud lady and was assured by the Chief of Eunuchs that she was still surpassingly lovely and was suspected of indulging in every variety of voluptuousness with the ladies of her suite in private.
sultan. — "At what hour does she generally take her walk in the garden?"
chief of eunuchs. — "About seven in the morning, your Majesty; she is an early riser and first goes to the Mosque then walks in the garden for an hour or more or sits under the trees reading some exciting French work, but retires as soon as the eunuch gardeners disturb her."
sultan. — "Well, good; keep the gardeners from that part of the garden tomorrow. I will have a private interview with her Majesty."
chief of eunuchs. — "Her Majesty would feel insulted to be addressed in the garden even by the Sultan. Consider, Sire, her late position, and what deference would she expect even from your Majesty yourself."
sultan. — "By the beard of the prophet! I'll bring her to her senses without even telling her who I am. She has never seen me. It will afford infinite satisfaction to witness her haughty, proud indignation, at a stranger's intrusion on her privacy. But leave me to consider her dignity, all I want is that you keep out all intruders, and be sure to awaken me early enough in the morning."
Next day, at an early hour, the Sultan is ready for his anticipated excitement. It is a lovely morning in early spring; and he thoroughly enjoys the invigorating, soft sea-breeze which rustles the leaves of the trees over his head.
Seating himself on the grass behind an Oleander thicket, close to a pretty little lake, so as to command a long vista of one of the principal walks, he gives himself up to a reverie of his chibouque. "Ah, to think I never thought of her before, the beautiful haughty. Oh, Allah, what a fine revenge for all she did against me. What a delicious time of day. How curious that although I can scarcely get my poor cock to rise at the prettiest of my odalisques, one always awakes in the morning with a standing pego. What is the cause of it? Perhaps it indicates the proper time of day for voluptuous indulgence. Ah, yes! That must be so for I always notice how I am, especially if I have indulged in too much Frankish brandy overnight. That's our only stimulant. Ah, Allah! why did the prophet forbid us the glorious wine? Spirits were not known then or he would have put a veto on that also. Women, women, nothing but women for good believers! What a man that prophet must have been and after all nothing else for us in heaven! Shall we not be exhausted or cloyed with pleasure there? Ha! Ha! Ha! Of course I'm a true Musselman, but it takes a big faith to believe all that, or about Isa either. Religion is a manufactured article in all countries, a monopoly not to be interfered with lightly; but no one will know the mystery until after death. How true the saying of Solomon: 'That the only real good is to enjoy your life and thank God for it.' There is but one God, whoever is his prophet; we were never intended to make ourselves miserable.
"Ah! Xerxes must have been like myself when he offered such rewards for a new pleasure. He had found himself all used up. 'Vanity of Vanities' said the preacher who had three hundred princesses for wives and seven hundred concubines.
"It was Xerxes who married Esther. Queen Vashti reminds me of the Sultana Valide; how I will humble her and enjoy her humiliated rage as she finds herself helpless in my power.
"Esther, they say, won the king's heart through the voluptuous instruction imparted to her by Mordecai. All the other virgins only just submitted themselves to the Royal Ravisher; but Esther not only did that but when he was spent with his first efforts played with him and sucked his affair, and after all presented her beautiful bottom to his aroused priapus, which so excited him he was obliged to ravish that also, and finally put the crown on her head, not as one of the most beautiful of all virgins' but simply to reward the erotic excitement she had raised by her dalliance. Oh, that I had such a nice girl in my harem; they are all duffers. Ha, there she comes up the walk," catching a glimpse of the beautiful Sultana coming towards him unveiled and book in hand evidently intent on seating herself under a tree close at hand. Watching all her actions, the Sultan continued to enjoy his smoking and after a little while the lady seated herself on a little mound of grass under a shady tree, proceeding to peruse her book, soon being so absorbed in its contents that she did not perceive his stealthy approach from behind, so that he actually stood at her back looking over her shoulder and reading the same page as she was feasting on. The title of the work was Le Diable au Corps, a most erotic and sensual book, which seemed so to excite her that she sighed and swayed herself about whilst one hand was quite lost under her clothes, and seemed to the Sultan to be very curiously engaged somewhere. She reads and she sighs, and he sighs, but unnoticed by the beautiful student.
What charms he can see all down her neck and voluptuously rounded bosom, having just under his eyes the dazzling white skin, and blue-black hair streaming down in three long plaits along her back, the lovely delicate hands, and plump rounded arms.
How curious it is that anything improper or forbidden has such an exciting effect on all mankind. Here the Sultan, who could feast unmoved by the delicious charms of hundreds of lovely girls in his harem, is strongly excited by the charms of one so unwittingly exposed to view.
His manly weapon rises in all its forgotten vigour. The Sultana has thrown back the light shawl which covered her shoulders, so as to leave her neck quite exposed. He frigs himself over his unsuspecting victim when she suddenly drops backwards at full length, her eyes closed, her sensuous smile of enjoyment on the lips, rather apart, with one knee bent upwards and the hitherto unseen hand evidently working something under her clothes. As she sighs and almost sobs with pleasure, her beautiful legs are quite exposed with nothing on them, but delicate slippers on the feet. Drawers are quite wanting in the royal apparel.
Sultans are mortal, and however he might have wished to prolong and enjoy the sight, it was impossible for him to restrain his own emotions. The ecstatic moment had arrived, he directs his swollen excited member downwards and showers a good stream of sperm all over her face, neck, and bosom, laughing: "Ha! Ha! Ha! by the prophet you are a wanton woman. What the devil have you got under your clothes?"
Thunderstruck, crimsoning with shame, the Sultana's eyes start open. Then she hides her face in her shawl, shrieking: "Ah! Ah! Help! A man! A man!"
The Sultan gave her a vigorous kick: "You may scream but who's to help you? Do you want to expose your own shame, or do you really want a man?"
She springs to her feet and attempts to fly but he dexterously catches the tail of her dress and in the endeavours to effect her escape pulls her clothes over her head so that she is quite uncovered, her arms helpless, whilst every part of her beautiful body from the waist downwards is fully exposed.
What a sight meets his gaze! A splendid swelling mount all covered with long, black, curly hair, extending far over her beautiful belly, and some inches down on the inside of her thighs, most extraordinary large rounded buttocks, quite out of proportion to her size, but so exciting to behold and replete with voluptuous pleasure.
sultana, shrieking. — "Ah! Ah! How shameful! Oh! Oh! Let me go, or your life will pay the forfeit!"
sultan. — "Ha, ha! Will you, indeed, spare my life, lady?" whilst still keeping her head and hands in a helpless condition. He inflicts a furious kick on her bottom, which he repeats again and again, as she begs and cries for mercy, promising everything she can think of to be released; her bottom bruised all over and slightly bleeding in places.