As I heard their remarks a strong impression came over me that if I were placed in charge of a physician I should not live two days, but if I could tell them to shower my head and neck often I would recover. As I looked upon my anxious fatherless children around my bed I made an effort to speak, but my parched and swollen tongue could not for some time utter a word. The answer to earnest prayer came from Him who numbers even the very hairs of our head. As my brother took my hand, saying, "If you wish a physician press my hand, or if you wish water treatment move your head on the pillow," I could not move my head in the least, and my only hope was to say no. When asked if I wished a doctor sent for, I prayed that my tongue might utter words of direction for the sake of my fatherless children, and said, "No." "Do you want cold compresses, or shall we gently shower over a thin cloth on the swollen and inflamed portion of your neck and head?" "Shower." "Cold or tepid?" "Well." "If you mean well-water, how much?" "Big pitcher." "How often?" "Twenty minutes." Said my son Harvey, "It shall be done, if I sit by her every minute to-night." I felt a positive impression that my Heavenly Father had answered my prayer directly, and granted an assurance, in the token of recovery, and I praised the Lord for his "loving kindness, O, how free." With this assurance I fell back in a stupor, except a dreamy consciousness of their showering, which was faithfully done, with the assistance of my brother. At twelve o'clock I awoke, and inquired where all the people were that filled the room a little while before, and was surprised to learn the hour of night. They said, as my breathing became more natural, the neighbors had left and the children retired. I could speak easily, and the purple appearance of the skin had disappeared. In the morning the pain was entirely gone, but the soreness was still severe. But with frequent changes of compresses during the day, the swelling very much subsided. I wondered why father did not come, as he had not been to see me since sister Phoebe's funeral. My brother informed me that he had a chill during the funeral, and had not been able to leave. As he had a few fits of the ague some weeks previously, I supposed it was a return of that disease. The day following brother Sala came, and in reply to my inquiry after my father, said he was no better, but sent me a request to be very careful of myself, and hoped I would soon recover, and left in seeming haste to see brother Patchin. But I sent for him to come and tell me more about father. He soon came with brother Patchin and brother Dolbeare. He then told me that father had the same disease that had taken my husband and our mother, and he also said that it was father's request that for the sake of my large family of children, who were recently bereft of their father, that I would give up the idea of coming to see him.