There is a language in the cry of an infant which a thoughtful medical man can well interpret. The cry of hunger, for instance, is very characteristic,—it is unaccompanied with tears, and is a wailing cry; the cry of teething is a fretful cry; the cry of earache is short, sharp, piercing, and decisive, the head being moved about from side to side, and the little hand being often put up to the affected side of the head; the cry of bowel-ache is also expressive,—the cry is not so piercing as from earache, and is an interrupted, straining cry, accompanied with a drawing up of the legs to the belly; the cry of bronchitis is a gruff and phlegmatic cry; the cry of inflammation of the lungs is more a moan than a cry; the cry of croup is hoarse, and rough, and ringing, and is so characteristic that it may truly be called “the croupy cry,” moreover, he breathes as though he breathed through muslin; the cry of inflammation of the membranes of the brain is a piercing shriek—a danger signal—most painful to hear; the cry of a child recovering from a severe illness is a cross, and wayward, and tearful cry; he may truly be said to be in a quarrelsome mood; he bursts out without rhyme or reason into a passionate flood of tears; tears are always, in a severe illness, to be looked upon as a good omen, as a sign of amendment: tears, when a child is dangerously ill, are rarely if ever seen; a cry at night, for light—a frequent cause of a babe crying—is a restless cry: “An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.” 111. _If an infant be delicate, have you any objection to his having either veal or mutton broth to strengthen him?_ Broths seldom agree with a babe at the breast. I have known them to produce sickness, disorder the bowels, and create fever. I recommend you, therefore, not to make the attempt. Although broth and beef-tea, when taken by the mouth, will seldom agree with an infant at the breast, yet, when used as an enema, and in small quantities, so that they may be retained, I have frequently found them to be of great benefit: they have, in some instances, appeared to have snatched delicate children from the brink of the grave. 112. _My babe’s ankles are very weak: what do you advise to strengthen them?_ If his ankles be weak, let them every morning be bathed, after the completion of his morning’s ablution, for five minutes each time, with bay salt and water, a small handful of bay salt dissolved in a quart of rain water (with the chill of the water taken off in the winter, and of its proper temperature in the summer time); then let them be dried; after the drying, let the ankles be well rubbed with the following liniment: Take of—Oil of Rosemary, three drachms; Liniment of Camphor, thirteen drachms: To make a Liniment.