en down with typhoid fever. John Ramon, with
his life almost gone out of him, waited for the doctor's report from the
sick room. When he came out he asked him what were the chances for his
child to get well. The doctor told him that she had a severe case of
typhoid fever, and the chances of recovery were against her, but with
close attention and nursing she had a chance to get well. John Ramon
said, "Doctor, I am willing to take that chance." Day after day and
night after night John Ramon sat by the bedside of his child as she
lingered between life and death. The doctor would come and shake his
head and say, "She is no better." For eight days and nights John Ramon
had eaten scarcely anything and slept not a wink. On the evening of the
eighth day the doctor came as usual. He told John Ramon that this night
would determine whether his child would die or get well, that there
would be a change before daylight for better or for worse. After giving
John Ramon directions and telling him to wake him up if he saw any
change in the child, the doctor lay down to get a much needed rest and
some sleep. The clock ticked off the hours and no change came. The clock
struck one, two, three. John Ramon had never, during all the long and
weary night hours, taken his eyes off his child. There he sat in great
trouble and sorrow, watching her. The clock struck three, and Estelle
opened her eyes, looked at John Ramon, and said, "Is this you, papa?" He
knew that she was better. He rushed into the room where the doctor was
sleeping and awoke him. The doctor, not knowing whether the change was
for the better or worse, hastened into the sick room and felt of
Estelle's pulse and said, "John Ramon, your child is better, the crisis
is passed. She will get well." The joy of John Ramon and his wife could
hardly be restrained. The doctor told them that they must be quiet, or
they might excite her and make her worse. The crisis had passed and
Estelle improved rapidly and was soon able to sit up and ride out with
her parents. John and Amanda Ramon were filled with joy and a great
weight seemed to be lifted from the whole neighborhood on account of the
recovery of Estelle, for she was dearly loved by all who knew her.

On an adjoining farm to John Ramon lived a neighbor by the name of David
Scott, as true a man as ever lived among the hills of the Cumberland
river. David Scott had one son, William Scott, as noble a lad as ever
lived. He was honest, true, an