Thinking that this might be the custom of the country, I hastened to fill the decanter, hoping that I might get a little new milk for the poor Weanling child in return; but when I asked my liberal visitor if she kept cows, and would lend me a little new milk for the baby, she burst out into high disdain.
"Roughing it in the Bush"
Susanna Moodie
I had not asked him-had never said that the poor Weanling wanted milk.
"Roughing it in the Bush"
Susanna Moodie
Into the old farmhouse I tottered, like a Weanling child, with mother in her common clothes, helping me along, yet fearing, except by stealth, to look at me.
"Lorna Doone, A Romance of Exmoor"
R. D. Blackmore