During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I stumbled on a family treasure. Why fear? That book has no bawdy word in it; but bawdy acts need the bawdy ejaculations; the erotic, full-flavored expressions, which even the chastest indulge in when hut, or love, is in its full tide of performance. Then, for the first time, I thought I would print my work that had been commenced more than twenty years before but hesitated. After a little while, I set to work to describe the events of the Intervening years of my youth and early middle age, which included most of my gallant intrigues and adventures of a frisky order, but not the more lascivious ones of later years. So I determined to write my private life freely as to fact, and in the spirit of the lustful acts done by me, or witnessed; it is written therefore with absolute truth and without any regard whatever for what the world calls decency.
