PART II. A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
1. CHAPTER I.
(continued)
When dinner was almost done, the nurse came in with a child of a
year old in her arms, who immediately spied me, and began a squall
that you might have heard from London-Bridge to Chelsea, after the
usual oratory of infants, to get me for a plaything. The mother,
out of pure indulgence, took me up, and put me towards the child,
who presently seized me by the middle, and got my head into his
mouth, where I roared so loud that the urchin was frighted, and let
me drop, and I should infallibly have broke my neck, if the mother
had not held her apron under me. The nurse, to quiet her babe,
made use of a rattle which was a kind of hollow vessel filled with
great stones, and fastened by a cable to the child's waist: but
all in vain; so that she was forced to apply the last remedy by
giving it suck. I must confess no object ever disgusted me so much
as the sight of her monstrous breast, which I cannot tell what to
compare with, so as to give the curious reader an idea of its bulk,
shape, and colour. It stood prominent six feet, and could not be
less than sixteen in circumference. The nipple was about half the
bigness of my head, and the hue both of that and the dug, so varied
with spots, pimples, and freckles, that nothing could appear more
nauseous: for I had a near sight of her, she sitting down, the
more conveniently to give suck, and I standing on the table. This
made me reflect upon the fair skins of our English ladies, who
appear so beautiful to us, only because they are of our own size,
and their defects not to be seen but through a magnifying glass;
where we find by experiment that the smoothest and whitest skins
look rough, and coarse, and ill-coloured.
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