“If not intruding on your space, we will give a description of a pleasant trip which we took several days ago. The day was beautiful; Sciotoville lay ‘en route.’ In passing though the village, we took but little note of the passersby, but observed a very distinguished individuals, who, upon inquiry, proved to be the talented ‘Brickbat.’ Sabbath school was in session at the churches, and we were glad to see so many in attendance. We crossed the bridge which spanned the little Scioto, and there observed a deserted burial ground, a place which could be made beautiful. We reached Wheelersburg in due season, and it presented, to our view, a more pleasant appearance then the former village; its streets looked much cleaner. The place had the appearance of being deserted, and we were told there was a quarterly meeting in session, about four miles further on; on we went, passed the Glidden farm, and other beautiful country residences, and at last reached the placed of the quarterly meeting. Here we found the place alive with people from every direction. The house and grounds were crowded to overflowing. It was impossible for us to gain admittance, but we employed our time in shaking hands with old acquaintances. As it was approaching dinner time, we stopped at friend Collins’, where a bountiful repast was soon in readiness for our disposal. After partaking therefrom, we resumed our journey towards Powellsville, and soon it was reached. We were expecting to see a much larger place than it proved to be, though we will give a short description. The church stands on one hill; the burial ground on another, probably a graveyard is in the church yard also. We went to the termination of the pike, turned our buggy with difficulty, shook hands with friend House and started for home. -Runabout”1
