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the boys until they went to school at about five. As a boy of two or three I wore nice long hair and a dress. I remember people thinking I was a little girl and being annoyed at this and wanting to get my hair cut, but still the feeling must have been sufficiently confused for me to like my long hair and dress in spite of it all. Maybe in stomping my feet and saying, "I'm not a little girl" I was saying that it was o.k. for me to wear a dress and wear my hair long and still be a boy. There must have been some ambivalence on my Mother's part too, be- cause though my attire and grooming changed soon after, she liked to remind me that I did have pretty curls. My older brother was the he-man. My older sister, though a year older than he was, never seemed to want a say in how he dressed but she was all for me wearing ankle-socks and sandals in the Summertime and for softening my appearance in other ways as well. Maybe at the time she was ripe for a little sister instead of a brother. How would I ever get to pose the question now? It seems that from the time I was seven and had been promoted to the all-boys school, the feminine side of me was totally repressed. In that period the word "knickers" became a kind of "bold" word to say and in school women were nothing but sex-objects to boys, but never mentioned by the Master, except when in good humor, he sang about his sweetheart.

All the sex education we got was from each other in the form of dirty jokes or accounts of couples seen lying in gardens and woods. We learned some from the animals in the farmyard and in our catechism we leamed that adultery was bad, but we never exactly knew what adultery was. Bad thoughts were bad, so were immodest actions, looks or words and all amusements dangerous to chastity. Every sin of sex was a mortal sin, so who was going to admit anything like that to parent or teacher?

Of course there were times when we did get to see girls in a realis- tic light. It felt good to tumble in the hay and to feel under their skirts. Boys graduated to "manhood" at about fourteen by beginning to wear long trousers and girls got to be big girls by getting to wear long stocking at about the age of twelve or thirteen. I loved to watch these girls adjust their stockings which provided me with something to look at and didn't seem to embarass them too much. Girls who came from families of nine or ten children were not as squeamish as my sisters who came from a smaller family and probably had more privacy than average. Grace was supposed to be a little saint anyway and she acted the part pretty well. She was always good and ladylike and it seemed to me that when my mother commented on my

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