Then they would consult each other about their little ailments. One had scratched her finger, another had a whitlow; this one had risen in the morning with the white of her eye bloodshot; that one had put her finger out, telling her beads. All had some little thing the matter with them.
Honoré de Balzac. Droll Stories.
---
and how little Fanny came by that whitlow, who said, Pa, Millers was going to poultice it when she didn't forget.
Charles Dickens. Great Expectations (1861)
---
"Twas a bad leg allowed me to read the Pilgrim's Progress, and Mark Clark learnt All-Fours in a whitlow."