A working woman who looked like a Kirghiz, her head bent, was feeding
Karl-Yankel.  He was a chubby little fellow of five months old, in
knitted bootees and with a white tuft on his head...

"The fuss he's making!" said the Kirghiz woman.  "Not everyone would
be willing to give him suck"...The Kirghiz woman, pulling gently, drew
her nipple from Karl-Yankel's mouth.  The child started growling and
in despair jerked back his head with its white tuft.  The woman
uncovered her other breast and presented it to the little boy.  He
looked at the nipple with dull little eyes, and something gleamed in
them.
(Isaac Babel. Karl-Yankel)