myself by pulling back my prepuce far enough to disclose the purple glans, which I had never seen before.  But this act gave me no desire to masturbate.

When 5 years old, and living in a great city, I drew indecent pictures in company with a little girl and her younger brother.  These pictures represented men in the act of urinating.  The penes were drawn large, and the streams of urine plainly indicated.  One afternoon I induced the boy to go to the bath-room, lie on his back, and allow me to perform fellatio on him.  I did not ask him to return the favor.  I remember the curious tar-like smell of his clothing and the region about his genitals.  It is possible that I gained my knowledge of fellatio from an unknown boy of 10, who had induced me, during the preceding summer to enter a sandy lot with him, watch him urinate, and then, kneeling before him, commit fellatio.  A year later, as I was walking home in the rain to our summer cottage, with an open umbrella over my shoulder, a boy of 15, who was leaning against our fence, exhibited a large, erect penis, and when I had passed him urinated upon me and my umbrella.  I never saw the boy again.  I felt peculiarly insulted by his act.  Back of the house there lived a 12-year-old boy who invited me to watch him defecate in the outdoor privy, and during the act told me a number of indecent stories and words which I cannot remember.

About this time I fell in love with a little Jewish boy next door.  Often I cried myself to sleep over the thought that perhaps he was lying on a sofa alone and crying with a stomach-ache.  I longed to embrace him; and yet I saw little of him, and made little of him when I was with him.

Living in a Western city a few months later, some girls of 12 and 14 led me to their barn, where they dressed themselves in boys’ clothing and made believe that they were cowboys.  One of them told me to “shut my eyes, open my mouth, and get a surprise.”  When I opened my eyes once more a piece of hen-dung lay in my mouth.  I have a vague remembrance of one of the girls asking me to enter a water-closet with her.  She uttered some indelicate phrase, but I performed no act with her.  In the house where I lived I once entered the bedroom of a half-grown girl while she was dressing.  She knelt to kiss me innocently enough, and I, by a sudden impulse, ran my hand between her bare neck and her corset as far as I could reach.  Apparently she took no notice of my movement.  Although I did not masturbate, yet during this winter I experienced a tickling sensation about my genitals when I placed my hand beneath them as I lay on my stomach in bed.  One evening I pulled up my night-dress and, holding my penis in my hand, I danced to and fro on the carpet.  I imagined that I was one of a line of naked men and women who were advancing toward another similar line that faced them.  I imagined myself as pleasurably coming in contact