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 $24.95 U.S.

“Welcome to a
Sexy World —
of Sexy Sex.

_ Sex is the most powerful and important thing iin

the universe, and if you aren’t instantly good at
it you probably never will be and everyone will
laugh at you. This is something you should know
before even attempting sex.
Fortunately, you hold in your hands the witinate
guide to getting your rocks off, rigorously field
tested by the authors. Every sexual technique _
they have tried. Every erogenous zone they have .
erogenated. Every STD they have suffered from—
sometimes for way too long—just to see what
would happen.
But beware—this sexy knowledge comes with a
terrible price:
First, a suggested retail of $24.95 ($29.95 in
Canada). Admittedly on the high end for this
type of book, but the authors have to eat.
Second—and far more important—after you have
read this book, there is no going back.
Once absorbed, the wisdom containedin The Sexy
Book of Sexy Sex cannot be unlearnt. You may
easily spend the rest of your life orgasming your
brains out and neglecting your friendships, your
career, and every other aspect-of your life that
doesn’t involve constant genital stimulation. To
call youa “mindless sex zombie” would be putting
it gently. But you will be completely satisfied .
as will your legions of sexual partners.

WELL, ARE YOU IN?

https://archive.org/details/sexybookofsexyse0000scha
4
SEXY
SEXY BOOK

SEX BY KRISTEN SCHAAL

AND RICH BLOMQUIST
Illustrations by Michael Kupperman and Lisa Hanawalt

CHRONICLE BOOKS
SAN FRANCISCO
Text copyright © 2010 by Kristen Schaal and Rich Blomquist.
Cover and Author Photographs © 2010 by Gretchen LeMaistre

Chronicle Books would like to thank Emily Craig, Jenny Traig, Carey
Jones, Kim Romero, Ben Kasman, Sandy Lynn Davis, Amanda Moyrong,
Julie Romeis, Lindsay Sablosky, Jenna Cushner, Oscar Stowell, Gretchen
LeMaistre, Kirk Crippens, Lisa‘Hanawalt, Michael Kupperman, Tim
Belonax, Rachel Weill, Daniel Greenberg, Beth Steiner, Dean Burrell,
Becca Cohen, Lynda Carter, Loni Anderson, and Rihanna for their
contributions to this book.

COVER IMAGE:
Photography and Illustration: Gretchen LeMaistre
Makeup artist: Christina Schock
The photographer would like to thank James Hickey.

ILLUSTRATION CREDITS:
Chapter opener illustrations, p. 12, 22, 46, 62, 80, 106, 122, 148, 170;
Wildo’s Retreat, p. 132-133: © Lisa Hanawalt

illustrations, p. 21, 27, 28, 30-31, 32, 69, 70-71, 94-95, 109-110, 134-135,
140-141, 154, 155, 156, 164-165, 167-169, 174, 176-177, 179: © Michael
Kupperman i

Augmentooming, p. 50: © Oguz Aral

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
without written permission from the publisher. Page 190 constitutes a
continuation of the copyright-page.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available.

ISBN 978-0-8118-7126-6

Manufactured in the United States.

Designed by Michael Morris and Emily Craig, p.1.c.

10987654321

Chronicle Books LLC

680 Second Street
San Francisco, California 94107
www.chroniclebooks.com
 Gontents
CHAPTER 1
sex.in Nature ce ee 13
CHAPTER 2
The History of Sex. ............. 23
CHAPTER 3
Cupid’s Toolbox.................. 47
CHAPTER 4
Masturbation........... Boe) eee 63
CHAPTER 5
Repiar Sex ee 8]
CHAPTER 6
The Gay Chapter ....... noe. 107
CHAPTER 7 oe
For Sexperts Only .............. 123
CHAPTER 8 2 |
The Dark Side of Sex ...... nt AD
CHAPTER 9 Ce ae
The Future of Sex.. ae eee 7]
ang
“A Word from the Authors
Sex is the most powerful and important thing in the universe, and if
youre not instantly good at it, you probably never will be and every-
one will laugh at you.
This is something you should know before even attempting sex.
Fortunately, you are holding The Ultimate Guide to Sex:
Unabridged, Un-Spell-Checked, and Uncircumsized, completed
in the Year of Our Loins Two Thousand and Ten by Ms. Kristen
Schaal and Mr. Rich Blomquist and subsequently redubbed The
Sexy Book of Sexy Sex because the aforementioned title had already
been taken. So, relax. You’re in good hands.
But BEWARE!!! This sexy knowledge comes with a terrible price:
First, a suggested retail of $24.95 ($29.95 in Canada). Admittedly on
the high end for this type of book, but the authors have to eat.
Second—and far more important—after
you have read this book, there
is no going back.
Once absorbed, the lessons contained in The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex
cannot be unlearned. Armed with the bawdy wisdom on any given
page, you could easily spend the rest of your life orgasming your
brains out, neglecting your friendships, your career, and every other
aspect of your life that doesn’t involve constant genital stimulation.
To call you a “mindless sex zombie” would be putting it gently. And
perhaps the scariest part: you would be completely satisfied ... as
would your legions of sexual partners.

WELL, ARE YOU IN?

If so, turn the page.

*Note: In turning this page, You, hereafter referred to as “Reader,” hereby absolve the Authors
of any and all liability for consequences suffered as a result of the sexy lessons contained herein,
including but not limited to sex zombism, either mindless or mindful.
UM}
 W

Ml
 “How to Use This Book ,
This publication is intended to be a comprehensive guide to sex and
all things sex-related, from courtship, to foreplay, to more foreplay,
to just a little more foreplay, to actually banging. Great care and
effort were taken to make this book as complete as possible. If you
can think of a sex question not answered in this manual, it’s only
because federal, state, or local laws prohibit you from asking it. It is
NOT because the authors don’t know the answer, because we do.

That said, with a book this sexy there will be times you aren’t inter-
ested in learning—just in achieving orgasm as quickly and spectacu-
larly as possible. For that reason, the most erotic and titillating parts
of this guide are printed in red.
Go ahead. Skip to the steamiest, most profane passages in this
jizz-soaked wank rag that dares call itself a book. Feast your eyes
and your imagination on forbidden words that were until now only
whispered by drunken lovers and Japanese businessmen with
Tourette’s—words like splooge burglar, choad gobbler, and queef
nugget. Are you blushing? If so, stop. The sooner you let go of your
inhibitions, the sooner you can forgo embarrassment and get that
extra face blood into your genitals where it belongs.

“How <Not to Use This Book,

As you read, you will no doubt come to associate
this guide with pure erotic pleasure. However,
under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you insert
this book into ANY orifice for purposes of sexual
gratification. It is bound with cheap Chinese glue
that will POISON YOU.

10 THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

CWhy We Are Qualified
to Write This Book ,
Anyone can write a book. But not everyone can live a book.

Every sexual technique described in this manual we have tried. Every

erogenous zone we have erogenated. Every STD we have suffered
from—sometimes for way too long—just to see what would happen. A
lot of blood, sweat, and foul-smelling yellow discharge went into the
writing of this guide.
Why? Certainly not for profit. No amount of money could make up
for the lovemaking sessions we sacrificed so we could slave away at
our waterproof Jacuzzi computers. To put it mildly: IT WAS HELL!
In fact, we had no intention of becoming authors at all until we came
to a boner-chilling realization: THIS BOOK WOULD SAVE LIVES.
In fact, it’s already saved the life of someone very important to
us... YOU. A few pages ago, the finely tuned sexual instrument that
is YOU was dying ofa serious disease, your pleasure-starved genitals
wasting away from a lack of carnal sustenance. You didn’t realize it
at the time but you were very sick. To put it in medical terms, you
were totally sexorexic.
So what qualifies us to write this book? That’s a funny thing to ask
someone who just saved your life.

Where to Hide
This Book from
Your Children
&

Refrigerator vegetable In church Inside any other boring

drawer sex book
ASY.S
iN
 eens
in
- Nature
 _ The Origin of the Sexy
Humans did not invent sex.

Like burrowing, scampering, and throwing feces, man owes a debt

of gratitude to nature for paving the way. It is because of sex that
favorable genes are passed from one generation to the next, making
it stronger, healthier, and all-around more fuckable.

But it was homo and hetero sapiens who elevated sex to staggering
new heights. Armed with a superior intellect, a relentless desire for
better orgasms, and opposable thumbs that could reach our own
genitals, we single- and double-handedly transformed sex from
merely surviving to really living. In fact, human copulation is widely
recognized as the best sex in the universe. It is our greatest achieve-
ment and our legacy... and we’re only getting better at it.
Still, man can learn a lot from animals: how to find an appropriate
mate, how to complete the transfer of bodily fluids while looking out
for predators, and most important, how to abandon said mate after
obtaining sexual gratification with little to no awkwardness (even if
it means biting their head off). In many ways, animals are nature’s
sex ed teachers minus the condom and the banana, unless you’re
watching baboons fuck in the zoo,
in which case one of them might
have a banana.
They say those who do not learn
from history are doomed to
repeat it. But one pays an even
bigger price for not being a good
student of nature. Because those
who fail to learn from animals
will never fuck like one. The similarity to unicorns isn’t the only reason
girls love ponies.

14 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 “Asexual Reproduction;
Too Good to Share

Before sex, life was a lot less complicated. So was making more of
it. Single-cell organisms reproduced asexually, meaning “without | FISSION
humping.” There were no STDs, no stalkers, no erectile dysfunctions, | Shuts yah
and no lame bachelor parties with strippers jumping out of cakes . .
ny x
you were really excited to eat. At parties, cells would simply slip into
the bathroom and divide, then sneak out hoping no one would notice
there were two of them. And even if they did, nobody cared. What hap-
pened in the primordial ooze stayed in the primordial ooze.
Though convenient, asexual reproduction has its drawbacks,

including: For
agenre with so
many graphic close-
¢ No fucking ups, asexual porn
does not come close toa
¢ Nosucking turn-on.

¢ Limited variation from generation to generation, resulting

in fewer genetic alternatives and decreased adaptability
¢ Did we mention no fucking or sucking?
By definition, asexual reproduction is not as sexy as sexual reproduc-
tion. But what it lacks in quality, it makes up for in quantity. Some
types of bacteria can double their numbers every twenty minutes—
that’s like having repetitive, joyless sex seventy-two times a day! For
this reason, biologists have dubbed bacteria “Nature’s porn star.”
Even as life on this planet became more complex and infinitely more
doable, some shy species continued having sex with themselves, each
subsequent generation risking blindness and/or hairy palms in the
name of survival.

Creatures
That Produce
Asexually
(and why they
do it) ~
Hammerhead Komodo Dragons Some Snails Aphids
Sharks Devout Catholics Apartment too cramped Penises so small sex
Commitment issues to bring anyone back to isn’t worth the trouble

SEX IN NATURE | 15
The Klama Sutra
The first treatise on sexual intercourse dates back to the Cambrian period, some
five hundred million years ago. Discovered in present-day India, the Klama Sutra
described dozens of sexual positions meant to enhance lovemvaking and spice up fiz-
zling mollusk marriages.

The Muskrat The Everlasting Knot The Steamer

Downward-Facing Oyster Cupid’s Handshake Reverse Clamgirl

“Animal Courtship: sooty call of the wild

Imagine trying to find your ideal companion in the untamed wilderness, or in the
depths of the deepest ocean. Hundreds of miles may stand between you and your
soul mate, or maybe you scuttle past each other every day and never realize it, two
desperate, anonymous souls ina colony of millions. How would you find each other?
You probably wouldn't.

Fortunately, most animals are just looking for something to boink, not to love. But
simply being noticed is no easy task in the sweaty, twenty-four-hour discotheque we
call Nature. For that reason, some sexy species have raised their game, performing
unique courtship rituals that make it virtually impossible to ignore their junk.

16 THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 Great Pickup Artists
of the Animal Kingdom
SPECIES COURTSHIP BEHAVIOR HUMAN EQUIVALENT
© ast
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 “The Mud Shark:
Nature’s Dildo
If tuna is the chicken of the sea,
the vibrator of the sea is none oth-
er than the mud shark. Between
its dorsal spines, slippery skin,
and legendary patience, Squalus
acanthias is perfectly suited for
pleasuring a female human. But
it was a young rock band by the
name of Led Zeppelin that se-
cured the mud shark’s place in
the pantheon of sexy animals.
The mud shark accounts for the high mercury
content in early heavy metal.

“The Legend
On July 28, 1969, Led Zeppelin and their road manager, Richard Cole,
were staying at the Edgewater Inn following a performance at the
Seattle Pop Festival. The hotel, located on a pier overlooking Puget
Sound, encouraged guests to “fish from their rooms,” presumably
an attempt to compensate for the worst room service in the greater
Seattle area. Avid fishermen, the bandmates cast a few lines out of
their windows, and soon their luxury suite was knee-deep in salmon,
cod, pollock, and an active WWII mine John Paul Jones had wrestled
to the surface thinking it was a giant puffer fish.

Suddenly, there was a flirtatious knock on the door. Behind it stooda

strikingly gorgeous Seattle-area groupie with red hair, attracted by
the smell of halibut and British Sterling.

18 THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

Exactly what happened next has been lost to history, but theories
include:

* Finding themselves in a room full of marine life and a will-

ing Zeppelinette, the band naturally took turns pleasuring
her with different species of fish. But from the first moment
John Bonham touched a mud shark to the groupie’s snatch, it
was obvious to everyone in the room that the slippery brown
predator and female genitalia were meant to be together. In
the span of half an hour, the groupie was rocked by dozens of
the most satisfying, soul-shaking orgasms she had ever ex-
perienced. Word got out, and the mud shark quickly became
popular with shut-ins and lesbian fisherwomen.
¢ The starstruck fan found herself at the center of a genuine
rock ’n’ roll orgy, but it was a far cry from the “stairway to
heaven” she had long dreamed about. After twenty minutes,
the band and their manager were deep in postcoital slumber,
leaving it to the turned-on groupie to finish herself off. She
grabbed a mud shark off the floor, and nine months later gave
birth to a beautiful mermaid baby, who would go on to be-
come the bassist for Slipknot.
¢ In a fit of ecstasy the groupie accidentally pulled off John
Bonham’s mask revealing he was a secret mud shark. The rest
of the band pleaded with the girl not to tell anybody, espe-
cially given that good drummers were hard to come by. The
groupie agreed, on the condition that she be allowed to tell
the “Led Zeppelin fucked me with a mud shark” part of the
story. The band had no problem with that rumor getting out,
since it would boost their cred in both the rock ’n’ roll and
fishing communities.
Whatever happened, the mud shark’s destiny was forever changed.
Today, the unassuming fish is worth its weight in gold, and many
mud sharks find themselves living a life of erotic luxury of which
they never dreamed. If dog is man’s best friend, then surely woman’s
is the mud shark.

SEX IN NATURE | 19
HageESESEES oR SS PS ot at EE Eee Seg Ee tod oa PE eee Er ag *.
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Hk :
: Our Life with the Bonobos
i

Only one other creature rivals humans in horniness: the bonobo

ape. And in that contest the bonobo takes the cake. Then it fucks aSyadh
sai
am
the cake. Then it eats the cake while it fucks another bonobo, also
iS

eating the cake. Then several other bonobos join in, all of them eat-
ess
tet
patetetesetr
: ing and/or fucking cake.
While that may sound depraved even by monkey standards, the
if emphasis on sex in bonobo culture actually serves a sophisticated
! purpose: it defuses conflict. This is something we learned first-
hand when we spent three months living among the bonobos,
| studying them, photographing them, and being sexually intimidated
tH by them.

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: CHAPTER 2

Even before she was whisked away
to Troy, Helen was making oral
RISPOLY:
24 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX
Gock of Ages
Sexual intercourse has not only produced the generations of
humans responsible for making history, it’s been the driving
force behind it. The Trojan War? Fought over a sexy lady. The
Church of England’s schism with Roman Catholicism? Henry
VIII’s answer to a cock-blocking pope. The discovery of penicil-
lin? The result of Alexander Fleming’s unrelenting quest to cure
his game-killing gonorrhea (both of which he stumbled upon by
accident). Given the prevalence of sex throughout the course
of civilization, it’s a wonder the pages of history aren’t stuck
together
We know what you’re thinking: J thought this was supposed to be
a SEX book. Why are they wasting valuable pages talking about
a bunch of dead people? Well, two reasons. First, as people who
lived through the Black Death learned, the dead can be very sexy,
especially when all the living ones are terrified of human con-
tact. And second, even though sex has only gotten better with
time, we still have much to learn from the past. To put it another
way: you don’t know where penises are going until you know where
penises have been. So, where have they been? The answer, much
like an unexpectedly placed penis, may surprise you.
iew Bookmarks Window Help
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< Show All History h
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When it comes to sexual histories, it doesn’t get more revealing than your roommate’s
browser history
“Adam and Eve:
Testing Out the Equipment
Adam and Eve were created in God’s
image with one unmistakable difference:
genitals. God doesn’t have a penis or a
vagina because frankly, He doesn’t need
One. He exists in a state of constant
Though easily concealed with a single leaf, Adam took
orgasm infinitely more enjoyable than comfort knowing his package was still bigger than God's.

anything mere mortals can hope to ex-

perience (unless they’ve read this book). First they did it in the communal water-

So when the Creator scooped a hole in ing hole. Then they did it on the back of a
Eve’s crotch, rolled the leftover mate-
dinosaur. Then they crafted a sex swing
rial between His palms, and stuck the
out of some vines and made the dinosaur

resulting fleshy cigar thing under Adam’s watch. God could hardly believe His

washboard abs, it was something of an all-seeing eyes. He had created genitals

experiment. Fortunately, He couldn’t
have picked two better scientists.
Contrary torumors you hearinthe church
locker room, Adam and Eve did not get
kicked out of the Garden of Eden because
they had premarital sex. If anything, God
encouraged them to make
them to “be fruitful and multiply.” What
got Adam and Eve two one-way tickets to
Mortality Town was the fact that they got
freaky. Really freaky.
for fitting nicely together, not for all this
kinky shit (He may have even been alittle
jealous, not having a Mrs. God to fool
around with). The final straw came when
Eve fashioned a ball gag for Adam out of
an apple God had specifically told them
not to touch. Eve tried to tell Him she
love, telling
was just “being fruitful,” but He was in
no mood for wordplay. Adam and Eve had
gone too far.

~ Clothes:
Encounters of
the First Kind
Leaves weren’t thé
first things Adam andg
Eve grabbed to cover «
* their all-of-a-suddey
naughty bits.
i &

Serpents Bagels Handwritten apologies

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 25

 God cast His sexual guinea pigs out of the Garden. Even worse, He
made them aware of their nakedness, and Adam and Eve shamefully
covered the tingly bits they had once so proudly flaunted in front
of the triceratopses. It would take thousands of years of sexual re-
pression and guilty masturbating in the dark for intercourse to stop
feeling “dirty.” Yet despite their crime against the Dickless Wonder
upstairs and the eternal punishment it brought, Adam and Eve had
scored a major victory for humankind: they had figured out that the
wang-doodle goes in the hoo-ha.

Fertility Statues
Throughout history, some of mankind’s favorite objects have been
sex objects. Here are some of the most notable, ranked according to
sexiness:

Venus of Willendorf The stereotype-defying Phallus of Kyoto

FERTILITY: 8.5 FERTILITY: 9.2

Das Eisenwomb (The Iron Uterus) Twelve-Boobed Cock of Katmandu

FERTILITY: 2.5 FERTILITY: 10.0

26 THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

“A Brief History of Sex
PREHISTORIC ERA
200,000 BC: Men and women
awkwardly congregate on oppo-
site sides of Pangaea, waiting for
someone to make the first move.
200,000 and one hour later BC:
Men and women attempt sex for
the first time. Women’s vaginas
instinctively evolve hymens.
ANCIENT HISTORY
3500 BC:
Enterprising women found
world’s first profession.
JESUS TIMES
O: Virgin birth sparks fears of
getting pregnant from toilet
seats.
33: Masturbation falls to all-
time low given possibility of
Jesus actually watching.
1100 BC: In Greece, nude
wrestling plus copious amounts
of olive oil inevitably leads to
sodomy.
THE HISTORY OF SEX | 27
 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION
1801; Rampant child labor gives
parents some alone time, espe-
cially after death of child.
1908: Assembly line’s emphasis
on fitting pieces together as fast
as possible leads to invention of
the quickie.
DARK AGES
1355: Necrophilia invented;
dating scene flourishes.

GREAT DEPRESSION
RENAISSANCE
1930: Tough economic times
1474: Lorenzo de Medici
turn vaginas into dust bowls.
becomes first and last man to
get laid at a Renaissance fair.

1485: Secretly gay Leonardo da

Vinci envisions ways to trap men
in giant circles.
sai a

1934: Bonnie and Clyde make

love in vault, accidentally invent-
ing the sperm bank.

28 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 WORLD WAR II
1942: Rosie the Riveter encour-
ages women to help war effort by THE 1980S
becoming lesbians. (AKA THE AIDSTIES)
1981: Snorting cocaine off
boners invented.

1945: After witnessing ( 1987: Victims of AIDS honored

horrors of war, sexual with quilt impossible to
harassment no big deal. decorate a room around.

THE GOLDEN AGE OF SEX

1998: As a favor to women every-
SEXUAL REVOLUTION where, Viagra instantly covered
1960: Birth control becomes by insurance companies (birth
first form of control granted to control not so much).
women.
1961: Term “slut” coined for
women exercising their control.

2008: Having exhausted all

other sexual fetishes, people
decide vampires are sexy.

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 29

“A Series of Tubes:
Female Anatomy through History
In olden times women were forbidden from exploring their
bodies. Those hands were better used for making sandwiches,
giving hand jobs, or if the woman was especially talented, doing
both at the same time. Uncharted and untamed, the feminine
wilderness became the stuff of legend, leading to wild specula-
tion about what exactly was up there.

THE GREEDY
GoBLIN |

SouisH Hiri,

: Cavt oF THE WINDS

@rcues’ Hottow ENS
bom
dia
Sel
CO
onR

BIBLICAL “LOWER EARTH”

(6000 8c —ap. 1000) (1000 —- 1959)

30 THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 ENSORE
by order of the
Texas Board of Education—
refer to “Biblical”

FREE LOVE HOLE CURRENT

(SEXUAL REVOLUTION 1960 — 1975)

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 31

 “The Day the Earth
Didn't Stand Still:
Discovery of the Female Orgasm
Unlike its male equivalent, the female orgasm is a compli
-
cated and unwieldy process involving candles, smooth
jazz,
rose petals, terrycloth robes, and just the right
amount
of peppermint schnapps. Scholars initially believe
d that
Cleopatra—with her throngs of male attendants and
loose-
fitting garments—was the first woman to achieve
orgasm.
This was disproved, however, when analysis of a
hieroglyph
depicting the event concluded she had only sneezed
.
Scientists now believe the first female orgasm
Ra bless you. was experi-
enced in 1897 by Flora Stanley, wife of Ameri
can inventor
Freelan O. Stanley. Mr. Stanley is best remem
bered for his
steam-powered automobile, but it is Flora
who really got
engines started.
We were allowed to publish the following
entries from her
very private journal.

Dear Diary,
: At iil
wanted to “make love.” al
least that’s
Today Freelan woke me up before dawn because he
who a finess piston,
Freelan calls it.I call it dry well paddling, For aman
more sensess ifhe invented the: wet
it’s incredible how clumsy his p enis is. It would make
Re
I mostly gust try to
3
noodle. Honestly, the things I have to do to pass the time before it’s over!
Aiaietad ison ‘
By )
C Lyfe g >
:

rolling off me and skip-

Before we get to the cranberry ice cream dessert Freelan is usually
I envy him. Ifeel aa
. .

ping off to the lab. He always has a spring in his step afterwards.
:

forcranberry sauce! Which we never have.

and drippy, and starving
 Dear Diary,

Sorry ifmy handwriting is indecipherable, I’m still shaking. Something very unusual
happened to me today. I was dusting in Freelan’s laboratory, likeIalways do on Tuesdays,
and I noticed that he left the prototype for his new steam engine on. It was steaming away,
piping warm air through this long cylindrical valve on the top. I went over to see ifIcould
turn it off, butIdon’t think Freelan finished inventing the OFF switch.

Igust ignored it and I climbed on top ofthe counter becauseIneeded to dust offsome test
tubes and tongs and such, when Ifelt some ofthe steam push its way up my skirt and
petticoats. It startled me!I knocked a couple oftubes to the floor. But the steam didn’t care.
Ttjust kept pulsing warm moist air up to my secret place. Itfelt so good, my legs got weak. I
swearI didn’t have the strength to keep standing, that’s whyIhad to sit down on the engine
and my secret place just happened to be right up against the opening ofthe valve. Well, I
S. didn’t want my knickers to get wet, sol pushed them down to my knees and then all ofa
x sudden the hot steam was shooting right up into my Netherlands!
And I was paralyzed
there. I promiseI was suffering some form of a stroke because no matter how hard my brain
told my body to move itgust wouldn’t! So there was stuck on this steam engine as if
had become one of Freelan’s experiments. And here’s the thing, Diary, please do not tell
ANYONE, but! started feeling this sensation that Ihave never felt before in my life.
It’s hard to describe, but it was as ifJesus had crawled inside ofme with the steam and
was polishing me with pleasure prayers. At least that’s whatIhope it was! It had to be,
it was out ofthis world! And then the prayers got louder and turned into a chorus, it was
like Fesus was performing an earthshaking sing-along, and my secret place was singing
right back at him!And then I started to sing too, but it was less like singing and more like
screaming, ana Fesus just exploded inside ofme and it was amazing! Itfelt like pleasure
and pain and steam all rolled into one.

Luckily the steam ran out at that point and I was able to overcome my mild stroke and get
off the engine. I picked up the test tube pieces and tried to act normal when Freelan came
home for dinner. ButIcould barely contain my excitement at the fact thatIhad fesus in
my heart and my secret place!

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 33

 Dear Diary,

Sorry again for the horrifying penmanship. I’m writing this to you in complete darkness. I
am here at the Francis Dildo Sanitarium. I was sent here after Freelan caught me sitting
on his steam engine again. I have gotten a bit reckless with how oftenIneed to dust Freelan’s
lab, and my uniting with the steam engine seems to keep happening. When Freelan caught
me saddling his engine and shaking with joyItried to tell him Fesus was inside ofme. But I
suppose Freelan got a bit jealous ofFesus, which is understandable. Anyways, he checked me
into the expensive Francis Dildo Sanitarium, and it’s lights-out sol could be scribbling on
the sheets for all I know, it’s pitch-black!

But it’s important thatI get this down. I discovered that someone else checked into the
Francis Dildo Sanitarium with me: Fesus! And thank goodness. To keep the residents’
minds occupied we have afternoon progects every day. Mine has been candle making. I have
been really trying to excel at my progect, to demonstrate thatIam well enough to return to
my Freelan. But one afternoon I was dipping my candle and my mind started to wander,
and when I looked down I had over-dipped the candle and it was thicker than usual. I
didn’t want them to see thatIhad made a mistake sol decided to hide the candle somewhere.
The only place thatI knew would be secret was my secret place. I slid it up there, and lo and
behold Fesus was back!T slid it out and back again gust to make sure, and couldn’t help but
let out a thankful amen. I have been so lonely here. But beforeIhad a chance to really enjoy
my time with Fesus, I looked up and saw Dr. Francis Dildo standing right there, watching
me. He confiscated my candle and assigned me to pillow stuffing.

34 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

Francis Dildo patented the thick waxy candle and named it after
himself. He made millions of dollars and never gave Flora any credit,
or even a discount on her sanitarium bill. But as the old saying goes:
it takes a Dildo to know a dildo.

FUCKTOID
Historians believe the heart
symbol (¥) associated with love
was inspired by the seed of the
Silphium plant. Though now
extinct, Silphium was used in
ancient times as a form of birth
control, along with clubs (#),
spades (@), and holding out fora
diamond (4). Anancient coin glorifying birth
control, used to this day as secret
currency among liberals

%.
"ese apis ROSATO IE SONIC RSL LR NE ALO
ALAR INGM PELEARN SSR IRE A CL PO

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 35

Gock ‘n’ Hole Hall of Fame
The closest most people will come to achieving a sexual legacy is producing a child,
which, unfortunately, isn’t all that impressive. But throughout history, a bulging hand-
ful of great lovers proved so skilled in the art of fleshly delights they became legend.

CASANOVA ; "CLEOPATRA :

SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE:

Offered troubled women a
shoulder to cry on, then subtly
replaced shoulder with his
, CRAZIEST
penis.
CRAZIEST HOOKUP:
Unknowingly slept with his
teenage daughter. Then, realiz-
Sending a slave with tattoo
“Do you like me? Check one:
Yes__ No__” and a dull knife.
CRAZIEST HOOKUP:
Tossing Caesar’s salad.
ENDURING LEGACY:
Withapowertalkinedemeat
“You know the word sadism?
That’s named after me.”
HOOKUP:
Accidentally poisoned four
prostitutes with Spanish fly—
laced candy.
ree tect

Fe ee tone SUowane your command and a little eye Invented green M&Ms.
slept with her. akenoteue aicet

ENDURING LEGACY: any man.

The name “Casanova” became
a catchall term for one who
plays on women’s emotions
for sex, replacing earlier term
“man.”

36 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 “on0 BRBNsoN Ee LIBERAGED “§

SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE:

Presenting handful of Staring coldly out window Flamboyant fingering.
sugar cubes. at falling leaves of autumn,
CRAZIEST HOOKUP:
reflecting on own mortality.
CRAZIEST HOOKUP: Regrettable one-night stand
A horse. CRAZIEST HOOKUP: with arusty candlestick anda
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Moog.
ENDURING LEGACY:
her “pen pal with benefits.”
Gave birth to Paul I of Russia, ENDURING LEGACY:

first in a long line of centaur
CZars.
ENDURING LEGACY: Never came out of the closet,
First cute goth chick. which would have been moot
considering it was filled with
rhinestone capes and white
llama fur coats.

THE HISTORY OF SEX | 37

 carat
SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE: SIGNATURE PICKUP MOVE:

“T’ve had sex with twenty thou- Being Madonna. Playing his ribs likea
sand women, but only because xylophone.
CRAZIEST HOOKUP:
I was looking for you.”
Doing it with the devil in CRAZIEST HOOKUP:

CRAZIEST HOOKUP: exchange for immortality. All of them.

The one night he decided to
ENDURING LEGACY: ENDURING LEGACY:
stay in and watch Fried Green
Came up with something even Put the “man” in “creepy old
Tomatoes, yet somehow still
more delicious than ice cream mansion.”
ended up banging eighteen
to put inside cones.
women.

ENDURING LEGACY:

Proved being named “Wilt”

doesn’t necessarily mean
you're impotent.

38 | THE SEXY BOOK OF SEXY SEX

 -- _-.

cf One ofthe biggest .

f. misconceptions involving : :
g religion and sex is that Orthodox
Jews only have sex through aholeina
sheet. This is a stereotype rooted in igno-
rance and is an insult to the Jewish faith. The
only thing Jews cut a hole in is their foreskins,
with ajagged shard from a stomped-on wine glass
during a full moon. This ancient ritual endows
what’s left of their penises with magical powers
_
--

and is the source of Jews’ legendary sexual

\
prowess. Your only hope of experiencing
3 this kosher bliss is to trick
a Jew into :
‘ making love to you. That’s where ‘
7 the sheet comes in... =

———
Ho
 SP QEDIEVAL SUNN

Int. King Henry’s private chambers—night

KING HENRY and ANNE BOLEYN face each other on the royal bed amidst
candlelight and splendor. Hidden in the wardrobe is SIR RICHARD B., a
promising writer and expert voyeur. He recorded the following events.

KING HENRY
Thank you for meeting me here, me lady.

ANNE BOLEYN
It is an honor and a privilege to be in the presence of your Grace. I feel a
gratitude deep in my veins.

KING HENRY
Well, I hope that I can transform that gratitude into desire.

ANNE BOLEYN (BLUSHING)

My lord, there is a yearning for you that pumps through my blood from
my heart to my fingers to my toes to my...

KING HENRY
To your what?

ANNE BOLEYN
NO 105%, WH? oc

KING HENRY
Say it!

ANNE BOLEYN
My virginal lady button.
Anne Boleyn starts to fake-cry from embarrassment.

ANNE BOLEYN (CONT’D)

I can’t believe I said that! I’m a monster!
King Henry leans forward and lays a bejeweled hand on her fragile shoulder.

KING HENRY
My lady, it is that very button that I intend to push, and push, and push...
And with that heplants a long kiss on Anne’s open wet mouth. Both pull back
and gasp for air.
KING HENRY (CONT’D)
Did I bite your tongue? ea

ANNE BOLEYN i
No, your Grace. |
KING HENRY

I tasted blood.

ANNE BOLEYN
I did just eat a freshly killed calf.
Anne pulls out a piece of bloody beef from her cheek.

ANNE BOLEYN (CONT’D)

I believe this belongs to you.
King Henry takes it.

KING HENRY
Thank you.
King Henry chews it slowly as Anne watches. A long GROWL escapes Sir
Richard’s stomach.

ANNE BOLEYN

What was that?

SIR RICHARD (WHISPERING)

Oh Holy Ghost!

KING HENRY
Could be an owl getting drunk in the moonlight, maybe an angel
defecating on a cloud, or perhaps my lust for you becoming audible.

ANNE BOLEYN
Well, if it is the third, then it is the noise that I have been waiting to
hear since I pushed through my mother’s thighs.

KING HENRY
Then come be serenaded by your destiny. Rawwwer!
Anne giggles with delight and falls into King Henry’s open arms. Sir Richard
is dripping with sweat but can still shakily write this. King Henry proceeds to
rip Anne’s clothes to shreds growling like an animal while she screeches like a
banshee who loves animals.

KING HENRY

Now show me that BUTTON!

Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
there used to be home from school, to get the first chance at the new
book!
It was as good as a fortune to us, and all for six and a quarter
cents a week! In this way I read the novels of Richardson, Madame
D’Arblay, Fielding, Smollett, Cooper, Scott, Captain Marryatt, and
many another old book not included in Mr. Ruskin’s list of “one
hundred good books.” Passing through the alembic of a child’s pure
mind, I am not now conscious that the reading of the doubtful ones
did me any lasting harm. But I should add that I do not advise such
indiscriminate reading among young people, and there is no need of
it, since now there are so many good books, easy of access, which
have not the faults of those I was obliged to read. Then, there was
no choice. To-day, the best of reading, for children and young
people, can be found everywhere.
“Lalla Rookh” was the first poem I ever read, and it awoke in me,
not only a love of poetry, but also a desire to try my own hand at
verse-making.
And so the process of education went on, and I, with many
another “little doffer,” had more than one chance to nibble at the root
of knowledge. I had been to school for three months in each year,
until I was about thirteen years old, when my mother, who was now a
little better able to do without my earnings, sent me to the Lowell
High School regularly for two years, adding her constant injunction,
“Improve your mind, try and be somebody.” There I was taught a little
of everything, including French and Latin; and I may say here that
my “little learning,” in French at least, proved “a dangerous thing,” as
I had reason to know some years later, when I tried to speak my
book-French in Paris, for it might as well have been Choctaw, when
used as a means of oral communication with the natives of that
fascinating city.
The Lowell high school, in about 1840, was kept in a wooden
building over a butcher’s shop, but soon afterwards the new high
school, still in use, was provided, and it was co-educational. How
well I remember some of the boys and girls, and I recall them with
pleasure if not with affection. I could name them now, and have
noted with pride their success in life. A few are so high above the
rest that one would be surprised to know that they received the
principal part of their school education in that little high school room
over the butcher’s shop.
I left the high school when fifteen years of age, my school
education completed; though after that I took private lessons in
German, drawing, and dancing! About this time my elder brother and
I made up our minds that our mother had worked hard long enough,
and we prevailed on her to give up keeping boarders. This she did,
and while she remained in Lowell we supported the home by our
earnings. I was obliged to have my breakfast before daylight in the
winter. My mother prepared it over night, and while I was cooking
and eating it I read such books as Stevens’s “Travels” in Yucatan
and in Mexico, Tasso’s “Jerusalem Delivered,” and “Lights and
Shadows of Scottish Life.” My elder brother was the clerk in the
counting-room of the Tremont Corporation, and the agent, Mr.
Charles L. Tilden,—whom I thank, wherever he may be,—allowed
him to carry home at night, or over Sunday, any book that might be
left on his (the agent’s) desk; by this means I read many a beloved
volume of poetry, late into the night and on Sunday. Longfellow, in
particular, I learned almost by heart, and so retentive is the young
memory that I can repeat, even now, whole poems.
I read and studied also at my work; and as this was done by the
job, or beam, if I chose to have a book in my lap, and glance at it at
intervals, or even write a bit, nothing was lost to the “corporation.”
Lucy Larcom, in her “New England Girlhood,” speaks of the
windows in the mill on whose sides were pasted newspaper
clippings, which she calls “window gems.” It was very common for
the spinners and weavers to do this, as they were not allowed to
read books openly in the mill; but they brought their favorite “pieces”
of poetry, hymns, and extracts, and pasted them up over their looms
or frames, so that they could glance at them, and commit them to
memory. We little girls were fond of reading these clippings, and no
doubt they were an incentive to our thoughts as well as to those of
the older girls, who went to “The Improvement Circle,” and wrote
compositions.
 A year or two after this I attempted poetry, and my verses began
to appear in the newspapers, in one or two Annuals, and later in The
Lowell Offering.
In 1846 I wrote some verses which were published in the Lowell
Journal, and these caused me to make the acquaintance of the sub-
editor of that paper, who afterwards became my life companion. I
speak of this here because, in my early married life, I found the exact
help that I needed for continued education,—the leisure to read good
books, sent to my husband for review, in the quiet of my secluded
home. For I had neither the gowns to wear nor the disposition to go
into society, and as my companion was not willing to go without me,
in the long evenings, when the children were in bed and I was busy
making “auld claes look amaist as good as new,” he read aloud to
me countless books on abstruse political and general subjects,
which I never should have thought of reading for myself.
These are the “books that have helped me.” In fact, of all the
books I have read, I remember but very few that have not helped
me. Thus I had the companionship of a mind more mature, wiser,
and less prone to unrealities than my own; and if it seems to the
reader that my story is that of one of the more fortunate ones among
the working-girls of my time, it is because of this needed help, which
I received almost at the beginning of my womanhood. And for this,
as well as for those early days of poverty and toil, I am devoutly and
reverently thankful.
The religious experience of a young person oftentimes forms a
large part of the early education or development; and mine is
peculiar, since I am one of the very few persons, in this country at
least, who have been excommunicated from a Protestant church.
And I cannot speak of this event without showing the strong
sectarian tendencies of the time.
As late as 1843-1845 Puritan orthodoxy still held sway over
nearly the whole of New England; and the gloomy doctrines of
Jonathan Edwards, now called his “philosophy,” held a mighty grasp
on the minds of the people, all other denominations being frowned
upon. The Episcopal church was considered “little better than the
Catholic,” and the Universalists and the Unitarians were treated with
even less tolerance by the “Evangelicals” than any sect outside
these denominations is treated to-day. The charge against the
Unitarians was that they did not believe all of the Bible, and that they
preached “mere morality rather than religion.”
My mother, who had sat under the preaching of the Rev. Paul
Dean, in Boston, had early drifted away from her hereditary church
and its beliefs; but she had always sent her children to the
Congregational church and Sunday-school, not wishing, perhaps, to
run the same risk for their souls that she was willing to take for her
own, thus keeping us on the “safe side,” as it was called, with regard
to our eternal salvation. Consequently, we were well taught in the
belief of a literal devil, in a lake of brimstone and fire, and in the
“wrath of a just God.”
The terrors of an imaginative child’s mind, into which these
monstrous doctrines were poured, can hardly be described, and their
lasting effect need not be dwelt upon. It was natural that young
people who had minds of their own should be attracted to the new
doctrine of a Father’s love, as well as to the ministers who preached
it; and thus in a short time the mill girls and boys made a large part
of the congregation of those “unbelieving” sects which had come to
disturb the “ancient solitary reign” of primitive New England
orthodoxy.
I used often to wish that I could go to the Episcopal Sunday-
school, because their little girls were not afraid of the devil, were
allowed to dance, and had so much nicer books in their Sunday-
school library. “Little Henry and his Bearer,” and “The Lady of the
Manor,” in which was the story of “The Beautiful Estelle,” were lent to
me; and the last-named was a delight and an inspiration. But the
little “orthodox” girls were not allowed to read even religious novels;
and one of my work-mates, whose name would surprise the reader,
and who afterwards outgrew such prejudices, took me to task for
buying a paper copy of Scott’s “Redgauntlet,” saying, “Why, Hattie,
do you not know that it is a novel?”
 We had frequent discussions among ourselves on the different
texts of the Bible, and debated such questions as, “Is it a sin to read
novels?” “Is it right to read secular books on Sunday?” or, “Is it
wicked to play cards or checkers?” By this it will be seen that we
were made more familiar with the form, than with the spirit or the
teaching, of Christianity.
In the spring of 1840 there was a great revival in Lowell, and
some of the little girls held prayer-meetings, after school, at each
other’s houses, and many of them “experienced religion.” I went
sometimes to these meetings, and one night, when I was walking
home by starlight, for the days were still short, one of the older girls
said to me, “Are you happy?” “Do you love Jesus?” “Do you want to
be saved?”—“Why, yes,” I answered. “Then you have experienced
religion,” said the girl; “you are converted.” I was startled at the idea,
but did not know how to deny it, and I went home in an exalted state
of feeling; and, as I looked into the depths of the heavens above me,
there came to my youthful mind the first glimmer of thought on
spiritual themes.
It was an awakening, but not a conversion, for I had been
converted from nothing to nothing. I was at once claimed as a
“young convert,” went to the church prayer-meeting, told my
“experience” as directed, and was put on probation for admission to
the church. Meanwhile, I had been advised not to ask my mother’s
consent to this step, because she was a Universalist, and might
object. But I did not follow this advice; and when I told her of my
desire, she simply answered, “If you think it will make you any
happier, do so, but I do not believe you will be satisfied.” I have
always been very thankful to my mother for giving me this freedom in
my young life,—

“Not to be followed hourly, watched and noosed,”—

this chance in such an important matter to learn to think and to act

for myself. In fact, she always carried out this principle, and never to
my recollection coerced her children on any important point, but
taught them to “see for themselves.”
 When the day came for me to be admitted into the church, I, with
many other little girls, was sprinkled; and, when I stood up to repeat
the creed, I can truly say that I knew no more what were the
doctrines to which I was expected to subscribe, than I did about the
Copernican System or the Differential Calculus. And I might have
said, with the disciples at Ephesus, I “have not so much as heard
whether there be any Holy Ghost.” For, although I had been regularly
to church and to Sunday-school, I had never seen the Articles of
Belief, nor had I been instructed concerning the doctrines, or the
sacredness of the vow I was about to take upon me. Nor, from the
frequent backsliding among the young converts, do I think my case
was a singular one, although, so far as I know, I was the only one
who backslid enough to be excommunicated.
And later, when I was requested to subscribe to the Articles of
Belief, I found I could not accept them, particularly a certain part,
which related to the day of judgment and what would follow
thereafter. I have reviewed this document, and am able to quote the
exact words which were a stumbling-block to me. “We believe ... that
at the day of judgment the state of all will be unalterably fixed, and
that the punishment of the wicked and the happiness of the righteous
will be endless.”
When the service was over, I went home, feeling as if I had done
something wrong. I thought of my mother, whom my church people
called an “unbeliever;” of my dear little brother who had been
drowned, and whose soul might be lost, and I was most unhappy.
In fact, so serious was I for many days, that no doubt my church
friends thought me a most promising young convert.
Indeed I was converted, but not in the way they supposed; for I
had begun to think on religious subjects, and the more I thought the
less I believed in the doctrines of the church to which I belonged.
Doubts of the goodness of God filled my mind, and unbelief in the
Father’s love and compassion darkened my young life. What a
conversion! The beginning of long years of doubt and of struggle in
search of spiritual truths.
 After a time I went no more to my church meetings, and began to
attend those of the Universalists; but, though strongly urged, as a
“come-outer,” to join that body, I did not do so, being fearful of
subscribing to a belief whose mysteries I could neither understand
nor explain.
Hearing that I was attending the meetings of another
denomination, my church appointed three persons, at least one of
whom was a deacon, to labor with me. They came to our house one
evening, and, while my mother and I sat at our sewing, they plied me
with questions relating to my duty as a church member, and
arguments concerning the articles of belief; these I did not know how
to answer, but my mother, who had had some experience in
“religious” disputes, gave text for text, and I remember that, although
I trembled at her boldness, I thought she had the best of it.
Meanwhile, I sat silent, with downcast eyes, and when they
threatened me with excommunication if I did not go to the church
meetings, and “fulfil my covenant,” I mustered up courage to say,
with shaking voice, “I do not believe; I cannot go to your church,
even if you do excommunicate me.”
When my Universalist friends heard of this threat of
excommunication, they urged the preparation of a letter to the
church, giving my reasons for non-attendance; and this was
published in a Lowell newspaper, July 30, 1842. In this letter, which
my elder brother helped me to prepare,—in fact, I believe wrote the
most of it,—several arguments against the Articles of Belief are
given; and the letter closes with a request to “my brothers and
sisters,” to erase my name from “your church books rather than to
follow your usual course, common in cases similar to my own, to
excommunicate the heretic.”
This request was not heeded, and shortly after a committee of
three was “then appointed to take farther steps;” and this committee
reported that they had “visited and admonished” me without success;
and in November, 1842, the following vote was passed, and is
recorded in the church book:—
 “Nov. 21, 1842.
Whereas, it appears that Miss Harriet Hanson has violated her
covenant with this church,—first, by repeated and regular absence
from the ordinances of the gospel, second, by embracing sentiments
deemed by this church heretical; and whereas, measures have been
taken to reclaim her, but ineffectual; therefore,
Voted, that we withdraw our fellowship from the said Miss Hanson
until she shall give satisfactory evidence of repentance.”

And thus, at seventeen years of age, I was excommunicated from

the church of my ancestors, and for no fault, no sin, no crime, but
simply because I could not subscribe conscientiously to doctrines
which I did not comprehend. I relate this phase of my youthful
experience here in detail, because it serves to show the methods
which were then in use to cast out or dispose of those members who
could not subscribe to the doctrines of the dominant church of New
England.
For some time after this, I was quite in disgrace with some of my
work-mates, and was called a “heretic” and a “child of perdition” by
my church friends. But, as I did not agree, even in this, with their
opinions, but went my “ain gait,” it followed that, although I remained
for a time something of a heretic, I was not an unbeliever in sacred
things nor did I prove to be a “child of perdition.” But this experience
made me very unhappy, and gave me a distaste for religious reading
and thinking, and for many years the Bible was a sealed book to me,
until I came to see in the Book, not the letter of dogma, but rather the
spirit of truth and of revelation. This experience also repressed the
humorous side of my nature, which is every one’s birthright, and
made me for a time a sort of youthful cynic; and I allowed myself to
feel a certain contempt for those of my work-mates who, though they
could not give clear reason for their belief, still remained faithful to
their “covenant.”
There were two or three little incidents connected with this
episode in my life that may be of interest. A little later, when I thought
of applying for the position of teaching in a public school, I was
advised by a well-meaning friend not to attempt it, “for,” the friend
added, “you will not succeed, for how can a Universalist pray in her
school?”
Several years after my excommunication, when I had come to
observe that religion and “mere morality” do not always go together, I
had a final interview with one of the deacons who had labored with
me. He was an overseer in the room where I worked, and I had
noticed his familiar manner with some of the girls, who did not like it
any better than I did; and one day, when his behavior was unusually
offensive, I determined to speak to him about it.
I called him to my drawing-in frame, where I was sitting at work,
and said to him something like this: “I have hard work to believe that
you are one of those deacons who came to labor with a young girl
about belonging to your church. I don’t think you set the example of
good works you then preached to me.” He gave me a look, but did
not answer; and shortly after, as I might have expected, I received an
“honorable discharge” from his room.
But let me acknowledge one far-reaching benefit that resulted
from my being admitted to the Orthodox church, a benefit which
came to me in the summer of 1895. Because of my baptism,
administered so long ago, I was enabled to officiate as god-mother
to my grandchild and namesake, in Pueblo, Colorado,—one among
the first of the little girls born on a political equality with the little boys
of that enlightened State, born, as one may say, with the ballot in her
hand! And to any reader who has an interest in the final result of my
religious experience, I may add, that, as late as 1898, I became a
communicant of the Episcopal Church.
When the time came for me to become engaged to the man of my
choice, having always believed in the old-fashioned idea that there
should be no secrets between persons about to marry, I told him,
among my other shortcomings, as the most serious of all, the story
of my excommunication. To my great surprise, he laughed heartily,
derided the whole affair, and wondered at the serious view I had
always taken of it; and later he enjoyed saying to some of his
gentlemen friends, as if it were a good joke, “Did you know my wife
had been excommunicated from the church?”
And I too, long since have learned, that no creed—

“Can fix our doom,

Nor stay the eternal Love from His intent,
While Hope remaining bears her verdant bloom.”
 CHAPTER IV.

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE EARLY

FACTORY GIRLS.

When I look back into the factory life of fifty or sixty years ago, I
do not see what is called “a class” of young men and women going
to and from their daily work, like so many ants that cannot be
distinguished one from another; I see them as individuals, with
personalities of their own. This one has about her the atmosphere of
her early home. That one is impelled by a strong and noble purpose.
The other,—what she is, has been an influence for good to me and
to all womankind.
Yet they were a class of factory operatives, and were spoken of
(as the same class is spoken of now) as a set of persons who
earned their daily bread, whose condition was fixed, and who must
continue to spin and to weave to the end of their natural existence.
Nothing but this was expected of them, and they were not supposed
to be capable of social or mental improvement. That they could be
educated and developed into something more than mere work-
people, was an idea that had not yet entered the public mind. So
little does one class of persons really know about the thoughts and
aspirations of another! It was the good fortune of these early mill-
girls to teach the people of that time that this sort of labor is not
degrading; that the operative is not only “capable of virtue,” but also
capable of self-cultivation.
At the time the Lowell cotton-mills were started, the factory girl
was the lowest among women. In England, and in France
particularly, great injustice had been done to her real character; she
was represented as subjected to influences that could not fail to
destroy her purity and self-respect. In the eyes of her overseer she
was but a brute, a slave, to be beaten, pinched, and pushed about. It
was to overcome this prejudice that such high wages had been
offered to women that they might be induced to become mill-girls, in
spite of the opprobrium that still clung to this “degrading occupation.”
At first only a few came; for, though tempted by the high wages to be
regularly paid in “cash,” there were many who still preferred to go on
working at some more genteel employment at seventy-five cents a
week and their board.
But in a short time the prejudice against factory labor wore away,
and the Lowell mills became filled with blooming and energetic New
England women. They were naturally intelligent, had mother-wit, and
fell easily into the ways of their new life. They soon began to
associate with those who formed the community in which they had
come to live, and were invited to their houses. They went to the
same church, and sometimes married into some of the best families.
Or if they returned to their secluded homes again, instead of being
looked down upon as “factory girls” by the squire’s or the lawyer’s
family, they were more often welcomed as coming from the
metropolis, bringing new fashions, new books, and new ideas with
them.
In 1831 Lowell was little more than a factory village. Several
corporations were started, and the cotton-mills belonging to them
were building. Help was in great demand; and stories were told all
over the country of the new factory town, and the high wages that
were offered to all classes of work-people,—stories that reached the
ears of mechanics’ and farmers’ sons, and gave new life to lonely
and dependent women in distant towns and farmhouses. Into this
Yankee El Dorado, these needy people began to pour by the various
modes of travel known to those slow old days. The stage-coach and
the canal-boat came every day, always filled with new recruits for
this army of useful people. The mechanic and machinist came, each
with his home-made chest of tools, and oftentimes his wife and little
ones. The widow came with her little flock and her scanty
housekeeping goods to open a boarding-house or variety store, and
so provided a home for her fatherless children. Many farmers’
daughters came to earn money to complete their wedding outfit, or
buy the bride’s share of housekeeping articles.
Women with past histories came, to hide their griefs and their
identity, and to earn an honest living in the “sweat of their brow.”
Single young men came, full of hope and life, to get money for an
education, or to lift the mortgage from the home-farm. Troops of
young girls came by stages and baggage-wagons, men often being
employed to go to other States and to Canada, to collect them at so
much a head, and deliver them at the factories.
A very curious sight these country girls presented to young eyes
accustomed to a more modern style of things. When the large
covered baggage-wagon arrived in front of a block on the
corporation, they would descend from it, dressed in various and
outlandish fashions, and with their arms brimful of bandboxes
containing all their worldly goods. On each of these was sewed a
card, on which one could read the old-fashioned New England name
of the owner. And sorrowful enough they looked, even to the fun-
loving child who has lived to tell the story; for they had all left their
pleasant country homes to try their fortunes in a great manufacturing
town, and they were homesick even before they landed at the doors
of their boarding-houses. Years after, this scene dwelt in my
memory; and whenever anyone said anything about being homesick,
there rose before me the picture of a young girl with a sorrowful face
and a big tear in each eye, clambering down the steps at the rear of
a great covered wagon, holding fast to a cloth-covered bandbox,
drawn up at the top with a string, on which was sewed a paper
bearing the name of Plumy Clay!
Some of these girls brought diminutive hair trunks covered with
the skin of calves, spotted in dun and white, even as when they did
skip and play in daisy-blooming meads. And when several of them
were set together in front of one of the blocks, they looked like their
living counterparts, reposing at noontide in the adjacent field. One of
this kind of trunks has been handed down to me as an heirloom. The
hair is worn off in patches; it cannot be invigorated, and it is now
become a hairless heirloom. Within its hide-bound sides are safely
stowed away the love-letters of a past generation,—love-letters that
agitated the hearts of the grandparents of to-day; and I wonder that
their resistless ardor has not long ago burst its wrinkled sides. It is
relegated to distant attics, with its ancient crony, “ye bandbox,” to
enjoy an honored and well-earned repose.
Ah me! when some of us, its contemporaries, are also past our
usefulness, gone clean out of fashion, may we also be as resigned,
yea, as willing, to be laid quietly on some attic shelf!
These country girls had queer names, which added to the
singularity of their appearance. Samantha, Triphena, Plumy, Kezia,
Aseneth, Elgardy, Leafy, Ruhamah, Lovey, Almaretta, Sarepta, and
Florilla were among them.
Their dialect was also very peculiar. On the broken English and
Scotch of their ancestors was ingrafted the nasal Yankee twang; so
that many of them, when they had just come daown, spoke a
language almost unintelligible. But the severe discipline and ridicule
which met them was as good as a school education, and they were
soon taught the “city way of speaking.”
Their dress was also peculiar, and was of the plainest of
homespun, cut in such an old-fashioned style that each young girl
looked as if she had borrowed her grandmother’s gown. Their only
head-covering was a shawl, which was pinned under the chin; but
after the first pay-day, a “shaker” (or “scooter”) sunbonnet usually
replaced this primitive head-gear of their rural life.
But the early factory girls were not all country girls. There were
others also, who had been taught that “work is no disgrace.” There
were some who came to Lowell solely on account of the social or
literary advantages to be found there. They lived in secluded parts of
New England, where books were scarce, and there was no
cultivated society. They had comfortable homes, and did not perhaps
need the money they would earn; but they longed to see this new
“City of Spindles,” of which they had heard so much from their
neighbors and friends, who had gone there to work.
And the fame of the circulating libraries, that were soon opened,
drew them and kept them there, when no other inducement would
have been sufficient.
The laws relating to women were such, that a husband could
claim his wife wherever he found her, and also the children she was
trying to shield from his influence; and I have seen more than one
poor woman skulk behind her loom or her frame when visitors were
approaching the end of the aisle where she worked. Some of these
were known under assumed names, to prevent their husbands from
trusteeing their wages. It was a very common thing for a male
person of a certain kind to do this, thus depriving his wife of all her
wages, perhaps, month after month. The wages of minor children
could be trusteed, unless the children (being fourteen years of age)
were given their time. Women’s wages were also trusteed for the
debts of their husbands, and children’s for the debts of their parents.
As an instance, my mother had some financial difficulties when I
was fifteen years old, and to save herself and me from annoyance,
she gave me my time. The document reads as follows:—

“Be it known that I, Harriet Hanson, of Lowell, in consideration

that my minor daughter Harriet J. has taken upon herself the whole
burden of her own support, and has undertaken and agreed to
maintain herself henceforward without expense to me, do hereby
release and quitclaim unto her all profits and wages which she may
hereafter earn or acquire by her skill or labor in any occupation,—
and do hereby disclaim all right to collect or interfere with the same.
And I do give and release unto her the absolute control and disposal
of her own time according to her own discretion, without interference
from me. It being understood that I am not to be chargeable
hereafter with any expense on her account.
(Signed) Harriet Hanson.
July 2, 1840.”

It must be remembered that at this date woman had no property

rights. A widow could be left without her share of her husband’s (or
the family) property, a legal “incumbrance” to his estate. A father
could make his will without reference to his daughter’s share of the
inheritance. He usually left her a home on the farm as long as she
remained single. A woman was not supposed to be capable of
spending her own or of using other people’s money. In
Massachusetts, before 1840, a woman could not legally be treasurer
of her own sewing-society, unless some man were responsible for
her.
The law took no cognizance of woman as a money-spender. She
was a ward, an appendage, a relict. Thus it happened, that if a
woman did not choose to marry, or, when left a widow, to re-marry,
she had no choice but to enter one of the few employments open to
her, or to become a burden on the charity of some relative.
In almost every New England home could be found one or more
of these women, sometimes welcome, more often unwelcome, and
leading joyless, and in many instances unsatisfactory, lives. The
cotton-factory was a great opening to these lonely and dependent
women. From a condition approaching pauperism they were at once
placed above want; they could earn money, and spend it as they
pleased; and could gratify their tastes and desires without restraint,
and without rendering an account to anybody. At last they had found
a place in the universe; they were no longer obliged to finish out their
faded lives mere burdens to male relatives. Even the time of these
women was their own, on Sundays and in the evening after the day’s
work was done. For the first time in this country woman’s labor had a
money value. She had become not only an earner and a producer,
but also a spender of money, a recognized factor in the political
economy of her time. And thus a long upward step in our material
civilization was taken; woman had begun to earn and hold her own
money, and through its aid had learned to think and to act for herself.
Among the older women who sought this new employment were
very many lonely and dependent ones, such as used to be
mentioned in old wills as “incumbrances” and “relicts,” and to whom
a chance of earning money was indeed a new revelation. How well I
remember some of these solitary ones! As a child of eleven years, I
often made fun of them—for children do not see the pathetic side of
human life—and imitated their limp carriage and inelastic gait. I can
see them now, even after sixty years, just as they looked,—
depressed, modest, mincing, hardly daring to look one in the face, so
shy and sylvan had been their lives. But after the first pay-day came,
and they felt the jingle of silver in their pockets, and had begun to
feel its mercurial influence, their bowed heads were lifted, their necks
seemed braced with steel, they looked you in the face, sang blithely
among their looms or frames, and walked with elastic step to and
from their work. And when Sunday came, homespun was no longer
their only wear; and how sedately gay in their new attire they walked
to church, and how proudly they dropped their silver fourpences into
the contribution-box! It seemed as if a great hope impelled them,—
the harbinger of the new era that was about to dawn for them and for
all women-kind.
In passing, let me not forget to pay a tribute, also, to those noble
single and widowed women, who are “set solitary in families,” but
whose presence cements the domestic fabric, and whose influence
is unseen and oftentimes unappreciated, until they are taken away
and the integral part of the old home-life begins to crumble.
Except in rare instances, the rights of the early mill-girls were
secure. They were subject to no extortion, if they did extra work they
were always paid in full, and their own account of labor done by the
piece was always accepted. They kept the figures, and were paid
accordingly. This was notably the case with the weavers and
drawing-in girls. Though the hours of labor were long, they were not
over-worked; they were obliged to tend no more looms and frames
than they could easily take care of, and they had plenty of time to sit
and rest. I have known a girl to sit idle twenty or thirty minutes at a
time. They were not driven, and their work-a-day life was made easy.
They were treated with consideration by their employers, and there
was a feeling of respectful equality between them. The most favored
of the girls were sometimes invited to the houses of the dignitaries of
the mills, showing that the line of social division was not rigidly
maintained.
Their life in the factory was made pleasant to them. In those days
there was no need of advocating the doctrine of the proper relation
between employer and employed. Help was too valuable to be ill-
treated. If these early agents, or overseers, had been disposed to
exercise undue authority, or to establish unjust or arbitrary laws, the
high character of the operatives, and the fact that women employees
were scarce would have prevented it. A certain agent of one of the
first corporations in Lowell (an old sea-captain) said to one of his
boarding-house keepers, “I should like to rule my help as I used to
rule my sailors, but so many of them are women I do not dare to do
it.”
The knowledge of the antecedents of these operatives was the
safeguard of their liberties. The majority of them were as well born
as their “overlookers,” if not better; and they were also far better
educated.
The agents and overseers were usually married men, with
families of growing sons and daughters. They were members, and
sometimes deacons, of the church, and teachers in the same
Sunday-school with the girls employed under them. They were
generally of good morals and temperate habits, and often exercised
a good influence over their help. The feeling that the agents and
overseers were interested in their welfare caused the girls, in turn, to
feel an interest in the work for which their employers were
responsible. The conscientious among them took as much pride in
spinning a smooth thread, drawing in a perfect web, or in making
good cloth, as they would have done if the material had been for
their own wearing. And thus was practised, long before it was
preached, that principle of true political economy,—the just relation,
the mutual interest, that ought to exist between employers and
employed.
Those of the mill-girls who had homes generally worked from
eight to ten months in the year; the rest of the time was spent with
parents or friends. A few taught school during the summer months.
When we left the mill, or changed our place of work from one
corporation to another, we were given an “honorable discharge.”
Mine, of which I am still quite proud, is dated the year of my
marriage, and is as follows:—
 “Harriet J. Hanson has been employed in the Boott Cotton
Mills, in a dressing-room, twenty-five months, and is honorably
discharged.
(Signed) J. F. Trott.
Lowell, July 25, 1848.”

The chief characteristics of the early mill-girls may be briefly

mentioned, as showing the material of which this new community of
working-women was composed. Concerning their personal
appearance, I am able to quote from a magazine article written by
the poet John G. Whittier, then a resident of Lowell. He thus
describes,—

“THE FACTORY GIRLS OF LOWELL.

“Acres of girlhood, beauty reckoned by the square rod,—or miles
by long measure! the young, the graceful, the gay,—the flowers
gathered from a thousand hillsides and green valleys of New
England, fair unveiled Nuns of Industry, Sisters of Thrift, and are ye
not also Sisters of Charity dispensing comfort and hope and
happiness around many a hearthstone of your native hills, making
sad faces cheerful, and hallowing age and poverty with the sunshine
of your youth and love! Who shall sneer at your calling? Who shall
count your vocation otherwise than noble and ennobling?”

Of their literary and studious habits, Professor A. P. Peabody, of

Harvard University, gives his opinion in an article written not long ago
in the Atlantic Monthly. He says, “During the palmy days of The
Lowell Offering I used every winter to lecture for the Lowell Lyceum.
Not amusement, but instruction, was then the lecturer’s aim.... The
Lowell Hall was always crowded, and four-fifths of the audience were
factory-girls. When the lecturer entered, almost every girl had a book
in her hand, and was intent upon it. When he rose, the book was laid
aside, and paper and pencil taken instead; and there were very few
who did not carry home full notes of what they had heard. I have
never seen anywhere so assiduous note-taking. No, not even in a
college class, ... as in that assembly of young women, laboring for
their subsistence.”
To introduce a more practical side of their character I will quote an
extract from a letter received not long ago from a gentleman in the
Detroit Public Library, which says, “The factory-girls went to Lowell
from the hills of Vermont when I was a boy, numbers of them from
every town in my county (Windsor); and it was considered something
of a distinction to have worked for ‘the corporation,’ and brought
home some hard cash, which in many and many cases went to help
lift a mortgage on the farm, or to buy something needed for the
comfort of the old folks, or to send a younger brother or sister to the
Academy. I knew several of these girls who brought home purses
from Lowell which looked big in those days, and I recall one who is
still living in my native town of Pomfret.”
It may be added here, that the majority of the mill-girls made just
as good use of their money, so newly earned, and of whose value
they had hitherto known so little. They were necessarily industrious.
They were also frugal and saving. It was their custom on the first day
of every month, after paying their board-bill ($1.25 a week), to put
their wages in the savings-bank. There the money stayed, on
interest, until they withdrew it, to carry home or to use for a special
purpose. It is easy to see how much good this sum would do in a
rural community where money, as a means of exchange, had been
scarce. Into the barren homes many of them had left it went like a
quiet stream, carrying with it beauty and refreshment. The mortgage
was lifted from the homestead; the farmhouse was painted; the barn
rebuilt; modern improvements (including Mrs. Child’s “Frugal
Housewife”—the first American cook-book) were introduced into the
mother’s kitchen, and books and newspapers began to ornament the
sitting-room table.
Some of the mill-girls helped maintain widowed mothers, or
drunken, incompetent, or invalid fathers. Many of them educated the
younger children of the family, and young men were sent to college
with the money furnished by the untiring industry of their women
relatives.