Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

[42] CAPITULUM V It is a singular circumstance, continued the Archbishop, leading the way across the piles of dung with which the devoted camel had adorned the floor, that no poet has yet adequately sung the passion which exists in such luscious splendour between the “ Ship of the Desert ” and the wild Be- dawi. Leila, the juicy-cunted nigger nockstress who took my first spunkings as I told you in Chapter III, used to see a great deal of the business when she was first brought up from her home by the Nyanza to serve the vices of George G....n at Khartoum. She had seen Mesrur, the famous eunuch of the Mahdi, violate the hairless cunnies of sixty virgins without losing erection. She had been present when Zuleika, the Queen of the Sudan, as they called her, undertook (to suck off, and swallow the spend of) fifty-seven men in the first hour, and sev- enty-two in the second, when she had got into her stride, as it were. Alas ! All Europe knows the treachery which cost her life. In the third hour the infamous Selim bin Haroun presented himself dis- guised to her hasty lips. As you know, this chief- tain, desirous of checking his fertility without in- terfering with his pleasures, had bored a hole at the root of his life-preserver permitting the vital fuck-spunk to dribble away. Of course, when the unhappy Zuleika pulled at his vibrating tuning- fork and found that no juice followed her efforts, she shrieked and fainted, suspecting magic. Re- covering herself by a great effort, she caught hold of the traitor’s bollocks, and went on. For three