Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

dribble of three drops of the precious fluid soaked into her mug, and tickled up the ulcers of her throat. I was again a man. How inscrutable are the Ways of the Almighty ! From those three drops came my three sons ! Leila, her uvula irritated by the acrid fire of my ex- travagance, coughed it up and out. The three drops fell respectively upon the pouting bird’s nests of three Nunnery hacks, who happened to be frigging themselves with no fear of the future ! Nemesis overtook them ! One and all conceived and bare sons and called their names Jesus, for they supposed that no man had been near them. Lost in the love trance, they had not suspected the insidious spermatozoa dropped as it were a ball upon the aphrodisiacal tennis courts of their Eden Gardens. How I impregnated Leila herself, and the larks we had during her pregnancy, and the fun I had at her delivery — how different from the Monthly Drink, which I will also touch upon ! — I will tell you when I have relieved my necessities — I am an old man of eighty now, and you must humour me — with the row of warm foetuses and pox-holes which my chaplain has just brought for my midmorning per- formance. [61]