Mr. Smith.--"I can pay you six dollars now,--the rest you will have to wait for, as I cannot get it for you." Quaker.--"No, I will not wait one hour; and if thou dost not pay me immediately, thou shalt go forthwith to the jail, unless (running to the fire place, and making violent gestures with his hands towards the fire) thou wilt burn up those Books of Mormon; but if thou wilt burn them up, then I will forgive thee the whole debt." Mr. Smith, (decidedly).--"That I shall not do." Quaker.--"Then, thou shalt go to jail." "Sir." I interrupted (taking my gold beads from my neck, and holding them towards him), "these beads are the full value of the remainder of the debt. I beseech you to take them, and give up the note." Quaker.--"No, I will not. Thou must pay the money, or thy husband shall go straightway to jail." "Now, here, sir," I replied, "just look at yourself as you are. Because God has raised up my son to bring forth a book, which was written for the salvation of the souls of men, for the salvation of your soul as well as mine, you have come here to distress me, by taking my husband to jail; and you think, by this, that you will compel us to deny the work of God, and destroy a book which was translated by the gift and power of God. But, sir, we shall not burn the Book of Mormon, nor deny the inspiration of the Almighty." The Quaker then stepped to the door, and called a constable, who was waiting there for the signal. The constable came forward, and, laying his hand on Mr. Smith's shoulder, said, "You are my prisoner." I entreated the officer to allow me time to get some one to become my husband's security, but he refused. I then requested that he might be permitted to eat the porridge which I had been preparing, as he had taken no nourishment since the night before. This was also denied, and the Quaker ordered my husband to get immediately into a wagon which stood waiting to convey him to prison. After they had taken him to the wagon, the Quaker stood over him as guard, and the officer came back and ate up the food which I had prepared for my husband, who sat in the burning sun, faint and sick. I shall make no remarks in regard to my feelings on this occasion. Any human heart can imagine how I felt. But verily, verily, those men will have their reward. They drove off with my husband, leaving me alone with my little girl. The next morning, I went on foot several miles to see a friend by the name of Abner Lackey, who, I hoped, would assist me. I was not disappointed. He went without delay to the magistrate's office, and had my papers prepared, so that I could get my husband out of the prison cell, although he would still be confined in the jail yard.