Our protagonist is simply good-natured and generous, with few expectations and a soft heart.
B :What was your breastfeeding experience like? A Spark of Light. Some mothers struggling to produce milk have resorted to popping prescription pills meant for gastrointestinal disease. Her journey into the intimate lives of England's upper crust proves an illuminating and dangerous one as Susan jumps from family to family—until her father sells her son. A study last year finding that each additional month of breastfeeding turns into a half-point gain in IQ by age seven was widely and gleefully reported. She sniffed like there was a dirty nappy though there wasn''t. Added to basket.
After a few unexpected tumbles with the young man of the house, Susan is not surprised to find herself pregnant, realizing she can begin her career as wet nurse after giving birth. All along Susan feared it was too early to leave him, and she was right. At stake was the life of a child.
The Wet Nurse's Tale and millions of other books are available for Amazon Kindle. The Wet Nurse's Tale Paperback – August 3, A debut novel set in Victorian England with a delightfully cheeky heroine who will have everyone talking. The Wet Nurse's Tale and millions of other books are available for Amazon Kindle. The Wet Nurse's Tale Hardcover – August 6, In her first novel, Eisdorfer offers as a guide to Victorian England her entertaining and surprising protagonist, Susan Rose.
As the pages turned and fewer and fewer chapters remained, the story turned quite dark, as stories often do when they approach the climax. All kinds of clues got dropped that the antagonist in the house would bring about the death of the child. There were precedents. There was violence done to another character.
Chandler loves his wife and that''s a nice thing I can say. He''s a barrister and young but quite ugly though he''ll get better, I think. I notice things like this-- how something appears now and what I think it''ll look like later on. That''s the thing of gazing at babies. It makes you right good at predicting. She''s still angry at him for filling her in the first place, is how I see it, and she hasn''t yet let him touch her, at least it doesn''t seem thus, from the way he gazes at her as if he could eat her.
She''ll give in to him, I suppose, sooner or later, when she wants some bauble, or when natural urges strike her, which they will, once she stops hurting down below. Her bosom is still almost as big as my own, but those bladders will burst soon: that''s how we put it, my mum and I, though it''s not a very pretty image and I hope you''ll forgive me for it.
Chandler''s house is not as clean as I could like. There''s often grease on my cup and on the handle of my fork. And just yesterday, I saw one of the housemaids flirting with the farrier''s boy for a whole half an hour and then give short shrift to the linen. I see a lot through that window, as I sit still at my duty. I do love a window. In my first position, I had no window, just a closet off a larger room, and to pass the time I sang.
I know a lot of songs and for that I thank my mother, who sang to the ten of us every day over her own duties. Yesterday, Mr. Chandler brought his own mother up to see the babes. The boy was at the breast and the girl asleep in her cradle.
The lady stood very straight and looked at the baby in the cradle without a smile and then came up to look at the one at my breast. She sniffed like there was a dirty nappy though there wasn''t. Then she fixed her eye on me, and if I''d been a shrinker, I''d have felt like a mouse in a field with a hawk overhead.
How long has he been on just now? We''re used to obeying straightaway, of course, but I''d been alone for all the day without a word to no one and forgot myself and so before I thought I said, "Oh, but this one needs the breast to help him. Well, didn''t she near rip that baby out of my arms, though his little mouth was still working at being roused by the talking, and there was my dug out and me hurrying to cover it and the baby wailing and Mrs. Chandler that was Mr.
Chandler''s mother briskly putting him in his cradle, none too gently. And where was Mrs.
Chandler the wife, all this time? Just looking out the window as if maybe there was a horse downed in the street.
Chandler, "that''s how we do it in town. Chandler and Mrs. Chandler his wife right behind her.
I waited for a moment, and then I walked outside my door like to stretch. When I heard nothing and saw nothing, I went back into the room and picked them both up and put them in my lap and rocked them til they slept again. Later that night, Mrs.