Do children ever die with the earache ?" Irving Stanley hardly thought they did.

At all events, he never heard of such a case, and then, after suggesting a remedy, should the pain return, he left his new acquaintance.
"A part of your seat, sir, if you please," and Irving's voice was rather authoritative than otherwise, as he claimed the half of what the doctor was monopolizing.
It was of no use for Dr.Richards to pretend he was asleep, for Irving spoke so like a man who knew what he was doing, that the doctor was compelled to yield, and turning about, recognized his Saratoga acquaintance.

The recognition was mutual, and after a few natural remarks, Irving explained how he had given his seat to a lady, who seemed ready to drop with fatigue and anxiety concerning her little child, who was suffering from the earache.
"By the way, doctor," he added, "you ought to know the remedy for such ailments.

Suppose you prescribe in case it returns.

I do pity that young woman." Dr.Richards stared at him in astonishment.
"I know but little about babies or their aches," he answered at last, just as a scream of pain reached his ear, accompanied by a suppressed effort on the mother's part to soothe her suffering child.
The pain must have been intolerable, for the little fellow, in his agony, writhed from Adah's lap and sank upon the floor, his waxen hand pressed convulsively to his ear, and his whole form quivering with anguish as he cried, "Oh, ma! ma! ma! ma!" The hardest heart could scarce withstand that scene, and many now gathered near, offering advice and help, while even Dr.Richards turned toward the group gathering by the door, experiencing a most unaccountable sensation as that baby cry smote on his ear.