Bad Hugh
Page 156"He's been sick most all the way," she said. "There's something the
matter with his ear, I think, as he complains of that. 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
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
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. Foremost
among those who offered aid was Irving Stanley. His was the voice which
breathed comfort to the weeping Adah, his the hand extended to take up
his the mind which thought of everything available that could possibly
bring ease.
"Who'll give me a cigar? I do not use them myself. Ask him," he said,
pointing to the doctor, who mechanically took a fine Havana from the
case and half-grudgingly handed it to the lady, who hurried back with it
to Irving Stanley.
To break it up and place it in Willie's ear was the work of a moment,
and ere long the fierce outcries ceased as Willie grew easier and lay
quietly in Irving Stanley's arms.