breast-child

Updated: July 28, 2025

In vain she called, with a great sorrowing cry. But as, later, she stood with her feet in the sea, she became silent of a sudden, and was still as a rock, with her ragged dress about her like draggled seaweed. She had heard a thin crying. It was the voice of a breast-child, and not of a grown lass like Morag. When a gray heron toiled sullenly from a hollow among the rocks she went to the place.

Emilie Kip Baker - Short Stories and Selections for Use in the Secondary Schools