Just as soon as the enlargements become chronic, they pour out a thick mucous secretion, which quickly becomes purulent, or, in the vernacular, "matter." This trickles down on both sides of the throat, and drains right into the open mouth of the Eustachian tube. Not only so, but these Eustachian tubes are the remains of the first gill-slits of embryonic life, and, like all other gill-slits, have a little mass of this same lymphoid or tonsilar tissue surrounding them. This also becomes infected and inflamed, clogs the opening, and one fatal day the inflammation shoots out along the tube, and the child develops an attack of earache. At least two-thirds of all cases of earache, and, indeed, five-sixths of all cases of deafness in children, are due to adenoids.

Earache is simply the pain due to acute inflammation in the small drum-cavity of the ear. This in the large majority of cases will subside and drain back again into the throat through the Eustachian tube. In a fair percentage of instances, however, it will break in the opposite direction, and we have the familiar ruptured drum and discharge from the ear. In either case the drum becomes thickened, so that it can no longer vibrate properly; the delicate little chain of bones behind it, like the levers of a piano, becomes clogged, and the child becomes deaf, whether a chronic discharge be present or not.

This is the secret of his "inattention," his "indifference,"—even of his apparent disobedience and rebelliousness. What other children hear without an effort he has to strain every nerve to catch. He misunderstands the question that is asked of him, makes an absurd answer, and is either scolded or laughed at. It isn't long before he falls into the attitude: "Well, I can't get it right, anyhow, no matter how I try, so I don't care." Up to five or ten years ago the puzzled and distracted teacher would simply report the child for stupidity, indifference, and even insubordination. In nine cases out of ten, when children are naughty or stupid, they are really sick.

Not content with dulling one of the child's senses, these thugs of the body-politic proceed to throttle two others—smell and taste. Obviously the only way of smelling anything is to sniff its odor into your nose. And if this be more or less, or completely, blocked up, and its delicate mucous membranes coated with a thick, ropy discharge, you will not be able to distinguish anything but the crudest and rankest of odors. But what has this to do with taste? Merely that two-thirds of what we term "taste" is really smell. Seal the nostrils and you can't "tell chalk from cheese," not even a cube of apple from a cube of onion, as scores of experiments have shown. We all know how flat tea, coffee, and even our own favorite dishes taste when we have a bad cold, and this, remember, is the permanent condition of the palate of the poor little mouth-breather. No wonder his appetite is apt to be poor, and that even what food he eats will not produce a flow of "appetite juice" in the stomach, which Pavloff has shown to be so necessary to digestion. No wonder his digestion is apt to go wrong, ably assisted by the continual drip of the chronic discharge down the back of his throat; his bowels to become clogged and his abdomen distended.

But the resources for mischief of this pharyngeal "Old Man of the Sea" are not even yet exhausted. Next comes a very curious and unexpected one. We have all heard much of "the struggle for existence" among plants and animals, and have had painful demonstrations of its reality in our own personal experience. But we hardly suspected that it was going on in our own interior. Such, however, is the case; and when once one organ or structure falls behind the others in the race of growth, its neighbors promptly begin to encroach upon and take advantage of it. Emerson was right when he said, "I am the Cosmos," the universe.

Now, the mouth and the nose were originally one cavity. As Huxley long ago remarked, "When Nature undertook to build the skull of a land animal she was too lazy to start on new lines, and simply took the old fish-skull and made it over, for air-breathing purposes." And a clumsy job she made of it!

It may be remarked, in passing, that mouth-breathing, as a matter of history, is an exceedingly old and respectable habit, a reversion, in fact, to the method of breathing of the fish and the frog. "To drink like a fish" is a shameful and utterly unfounded aspersion upon a blameless creature of most correct habits and model deportment. What the poor goldfish in the bowl is really doing with his continual "gulp, gulp!" is breathing—not drinking.

This remodeling starts at a very early period of our individual existence. A horizontal ridge begins to grow out on either side of our mouth-nose cavity, just above the roots of the teeth. This thickens and widens into a pair of shelves, which finally, about the third month of embryonic life, meet in the middle line to form the hard palate or roof of the mouth, which forms also the floor of the nose. Failure of the two shelves to meet properly causes the well-known "cleft-palate," and, if this failure extends forward to the jaw, "hare-lip." In the growth of a healthy child a balance is preserved between these lower and upper compartments of the original mouth-nose cavity, and the nose above growing as rapidly in depth and in breadth as the mouth below, the horizontal partition between—the floor of the nose and the roof of the mouth—is kept comparatively flat and level. In adenoids, however, the nostrils no longer being adequately used, and consequently failing to grow, and the mouth cavity below growing at the full normal rate, it is not long before the mouth begins to encroach upon the nostrils by pushing up the partition of the palate. As soon as this upward bulge of the roof of the mouth occurs, then there is a diminution of the resistance offered by the horizontal healthy palate to the continual pressure of the muscles of the cheeks and of mastication upon the sides of the upper jaw, the more readily as the tongue has dropped down from its proper resting position up in the roof of the mouth. These are pushed inward, the arch of the jaw and of the teeth is narrowed, the front teeth are made to project, and, instead of erupting, with plenty of room, in even, regular lines, are crowded against and overlap one another.

When from any cause the lower jaw habitually hangs down, as in the open mouth, it tends to be thrown slightly forward in its socket. Then, when the jaws close again, the arches of the upper and lower teeth no longer meet evenly. Instead of "locking" at almost every point, as they should, they overlap, or fall behind, or inside, or outside, of each other. So that instead of every tooth meeting its fellow of the jaw above evenly and firmly, they strike at an angle, slip past or even miss one another, and thus increase the already existing irregularity and overlapping. Each individual tooth, missing its best stimulus to healthy growth and vigor, firm and regular pressure and exercise against its fellow in the jaw above or below, gets a twist in its socket, wears away irregularly, and becomes an easy prey to decay, while from failure of the entire upper and lower arches of the teeth to meet squarely and press evenly and firmly against one another, the jaws fail to expand properly and the tendency to narrowing of the tooth-arches and upward vaulting of the palate is increased.

In short, we are coming to the conclusion that from half to two-thirds of all cases of "crowded mouth," irregular teeth, and high-arched palate in children are due to adenoids. Progressive dentists now are insisting upon their little patients, who come to them with these conditions, being examined for adenoids, and upon the removal of these, if found, as a preliminary measure to mechanical corrective treatment. Cases are now on record of children with two, three, or even four generations of crowded teeth and narrow mouths behind them, but who, simply by being sharply watched for nasal obstruction and the symptoms of adenoids, by the removal of these latter as soon as they have put in an appearance, have grown up with even, regular, well-developed teeth and wide, healthy mouths and jaws. Unfortunately, attention to the adenoids will not remove these defects of the jaws and teeth after they have been produced. But, if the child be under ten, or even twelve, years of age, their removal may yet do much permanently to improve the condition, and is certainly well worth while on general principles.