Madame Bourgelat returned from her fruitless quest at about the same instant I released my seed; she was greatly bewildered by the words her mother and substitute had just uttered. Then she grasped that I had been fucking her, and led me away to my bed, where she deposited me, still in a swoon. Thus it was in the maternal womb I began effectively to sow my wild oats. When I returned to my senses; Madeleine went back to my mother' s bed. Awake by now, Mother asked what my sister had been up to and then added in a whisper: " You surely have odd ways."

" My husband," replied Madame Bourgelat, " often has me get on top; I was dreaming, that' s how it all happened and when I woke up I must have jumped out of bed." My mother apparently believed this.

However, the shot had been fired good and true. Madame Linguet' s belly began to swell and she secretly gave birth to a son, and a splendid son to boot, whom she very cleverly substituted for her grown son' s child, this latter infant having been stillborn. This son my own mother bore me was known as Petit Coq.

A week went by. At its end, completely recovered from the state into which the first discharge had hurled me, I sallied forth from my bed once again, and to another rendezvous. Now, reader, bear admiring witness to my misfortune: our activities had been remarked by a strapping big bosomed wench, a country girl who worked in our fields as a harvester and who had her lodgings in the barn. As Madame Bourgelat was upon one occasion readying to join me in my bed, Mammelasse (as our full- blown girl was called), who was in love with me, for she frequently frigged herself in my honor, but who was not however a bad sort, took it into her head to advise my brother- inlaw to lock his bedroom door at night and to keep an eye on his lady.