After the docter had praised up himself and his medicine to his heart's content, Newel quietly reached the bottle down from the shelf, and said: "Sir, there is the medicine you speak of. My wife has not tasted one drop of it." "But what's the meaning of all this change then?" "She has been healed by faith through the Prophet Joseph Smith." After studying some time over the matter the docter said: "Well it's a good thing to get well on any terms." The good docter soon after departed, as he plainly saw his services were no longer needed. He was not a "Mormon," although a kind, worthy man. That day Lydia arose and dressed herself, and went forth to her daily cares. She found her oldest boy, Samuel, well, and full of a desire to help all he could. The little fellow would take his tiny pail and go to the river, thus supplying the family with all the water needed. This was in the fall of '39, and her little girl was three years old. She also was well and trotting about the house at her baby plays. The babe James, was very ill. Fever had reduced him to a skeleton, and the mother's heart ached as she looked at his wasted body; but not once did she think of his dying. Newel was also stricken down after this, and a young girl, Newel's niece, Harriet, who lived with them. From one to the other went Lydia giving simple remedies, praying for them and doing all in her power to relieve their sufferings. Once in a while the neighbors would come in and try to help her all they could, although they had their own sick ones at home to attend. Whenever they did come, they would say to her: "Sister Knight, you can not keep that child; why do you cling so to him? You will displease our Father. Let him go, give him up, and his sufferings will be at an end." "Oh I cannot think of such a thing!" replied the quiet woman. "Father Smith said in my blessing that my heart should not be pained because of the loss of my children. And I cannot, let him go because I feel that it is not the Lord's will that I should part with him." On the Sunday following this, the child lay like a breathing skeleton. The skin drawn, the eyes glassy and the breath all but stopped. The mother knelt over him in an agony of watchfulness. "Oh Newel, what shall I do? He is sinking so fast. Tell me, advise me! I must do something, or he cannot live!" The husband looked sadly from the sick bed where he lay, at his little child, but with more sorrow in his eyes for his distracted wife, and at last said: "You can do no more. Give him up and ask God to soften this great blow to us both." "Give him up," cried the mother, "give up my boy to the arms of the destroyer! It is impossible. I _cannot_ give him up."