don't we have a wrestling contest?" My heart sunk. "I will give you an opportunity to restore yourself as a man in my eyes. Surely you can beat a little girl at wrestling!" She was not convincing.

She continued almost anticipatingly,

"Of course,

if you should lose- -you would suffer the consequence I was about to ask what the consequences would be, when she hastily added, "Of course, you needn't worry about that. How could a weak little girl possibly beat a real man at wrestling?" She quickly challenged, "How about it?"

I stammered out that I didn't think I should wrestle a girl and possibly injure her. She laughed and said that I should let her worry about that. I tried an equal- ly bad excuse in urging that perhaps we should get on home-that it was getting late. She responded by ask- ing the telling question, What's the matter? Are you afraid of losing to a girl?" I had no further choice.

TI

Debbie set the rules: No holds barred. The win- ner would be the first one to make the other say "I, a m a submissive, feminine young lady." There would be no time limit.

I thought "Oh, no!" But that was all that I had time to think, for she was moving over to position and having me do the same. Momentarily, she declared

the match was underway.

I stood there but not Debbie. She raced forward and tackled me as though she were a professional foot- ball player. I went reeling backward and solidly to the ground. She was then on top of me like a tiger, maneuvering to pin me to the ground.

Fortunately I twisted sufficiently to upset her over on the grass. This only seemed to increase her efforts. She now pulled me over and locked her legs about my body and started squeezing. It hurt and I reacted foolishly to it. I started to pull her hair. She taunt- ed me that I was wrestling just like a girl. Then she called me names such as "sissy", 'pansy", "panty- waist", "little girl". At last I let go of her hair.

27.

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