Sophronia had a heavy siege. The physician attended her eighty-nine days, giving her medicine all the while; but on the ninetieth day, he said she was so far gone, it was not for her to receive any benefit from medicine, and for this cause he discontinued his attendance. The ensuing night, she lay altogether motionless, with her eyes wide open, and with that peculiar aspect which bespeaks the near approach of death. As she thus lay, I gazed upon her as a mother looks upon the last shade of life in a darling child. In this moment of distraction, my husband and myself clasped our hands, fell upon our knees by the bedside, and poured out our grief to God, in prayer and supplication, beseeching him to spare our child yet a little longer. Did the Lord hear our petition? Yes; he most assuredly did, and before we rose to our feet, he gave us a testimony that she would recover. When we first arose from prayer, our child had, to all appearance, ceased breathing. I caught a blanket, threw it around her, then, taking her in my arms, commenced pacing the floor. Those present remonstrated against my doing as I did, saying, "Mrs. Smith, it is all of no use; you are certainly crazy, your child is dead." Notwithstanding, I would not, for a moment, relinquish the hope of again seeing her breathe and live. This recital, doubtless, will be uninteresting to some; but those who have experienced in life something of this kind are susceptible of feeling, and can sympathize with me. Are you a mother who has been bereft of a child? Feel for your heart-strings, and then tell me how I felt with my expiring child pressed to my bosom! Would you at this trying moment feel to deny that God had "power to save to the uttermost all who call on him!" I did not then, neither do I now. At length she sobbed. I still pressed her to my breast, and continued to walk the floor. She sobbed again, then looked up into my face, and commenced breathing quite freely. My soul was satisfied, but my strength was gone. I laid my daughter on the bed, and sunk by her side, completely overpowered by the intensity of my feelings. From this time forward Sophronia continued mending, until she entirely recovered. CHAPTER XVI. THE SUFFERINGS OF JOSEPH SMITH, JUNIOR, WITH A FEVER SORE--EXTRACTION OF LARGE FRAGMENTS OF BONE FROM ONE OF HIS LEGS.