Out of the women's great brown breast the milk gushed forth for the child, milk white as snow and when the child suckled at one breast it flowed like a fountain from the other, and she let it flow. There was more then enough for the child, greedy though he was, life enough for many children and she let it flow out carelessly, conscious of her abundance. There was always more and more. Sometimes she lifted her breast and let it flow out upon the ground to save her clothing and it sank into the earth and made a soft, dark, rich spot in the field. The child was fat and good natured and ate of the inexhaustible life his mother gave him.
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