As Lydia looked around her she was surprised to see the many comfortable homes dotted around, with weighty stacks of grain, and ricks and stacks of wild hay garnered for the winter's use.
Three years only had the Saints been here and already she saw houses and sheds on every hand, with here and there a fence, all the lumber for which had been sawed out by hand.
The long street on which she was traveling was called Emigration street; (now called third South street); it was a distinct line in this wilderness, of houses, cabins and tents; but as there were very few fences, little could be told of the plan of the city as it now stands.
The houses were mostly thatched with straw or covered with mud. Some few shingles had begun to assert their rights by proudly crowning a few of the most pretentious houses.
Lydia enquired the way to her brother-in-law, Joseph W. Johnson's house, to which she directed James to drive. Joseph Johnson had married Newel's sister, and Lydia met a warm welcome from these kind-hearted people.
Here she rested for several days, washing and ironing up her clothes and overlooking the slender stores remaining from the journey.
Samuel, her step-son, was with his uncle, he having left Mr. Wixom because of unkind treatment. He greeted his mother with noisy rejoicings, and immediately began planning for a home, or a start for one, for the family.
"Mother," he said, about the second day of her arrival, "I think we might take a lot somewhere down in the south-eastern part of the city, drive the wagon on it and then make plans for the coming winter."
"Why, my son, do you wish to go down there?"
"Well, mother, you know the cows must have some feed and on the bench close by, there's pretty good feed."