Carolyn Wells,
Ptomaine Street: The Tale of Warble Petticoat
“ Big Bill asked, gently, for Polly was a very pretty girl. “Oh, my ear! It aches and stings and burns and smarts and—” “That'll do for a beginning,” Dr. Petticoat said, rolling up his sleeves and calling for basins of sterilized water and various antiseptics and disinfectants. “Can you do anything, Bill?” Warble asked anxiously, “it isn't ptomaines, you know.” “That's the devil of it! Why couldn't the silly thing have had a decent bit of ptomaine poisoning instead of this foolish earache. But, it's more than an earache! The bally ear has been stung—or something—anything bite you, Polly?” ”
