St. Landry democrat., 1884-08-02
MISS GLYNN'S ADVENTURE.

Many years ago there stood at the
crossroads between Brixton and Cramp-
ton County an old farmhouse, built in
u style that few of us remember, with
large, cheerful rooms and windows that
opened on to carefully trimmed lawn.
Roses and honeysuckles grew there in
rich profusion, and in the fall bright
yellow chrysanthemums decked the gar
don beds.
A long, shady avenue of trees so OBJ
scured the house that in the summer it
seemed like "a lodge in some vast will
derness, and so lonely that i'll spite of
its beauty timid person would have
hesitated to buy it.
But Miss Glynn was not a timid per-
son. She had lived thirty-fve years in
this vale of tears without encountering
either ghosts or burglars, and she pur-
sued the even tenor Of her way through
seed time and harvest, without any APP
parent desire for companionship or re-
lief. from the monotony of her exist
ence.
People said that she had had a ro-
nance early in her youth, which had
ended in cruel disappointment, and that
when her father died and left her sole
nossessor of the old homestead she had
decided to keep ON living there, hiding
from curious world the one sorrow Of
her life.
However that may be, Miss Glynn
Kept her own secrets. The door of the
closet which contained her skeleton was
never open, and when any one from the
neighboring village did come to call on
her, they found her cheerily at work.
the house as neat as wax-Work, and
every sign of well-regulated house
hold.
One night q have this story from
Miss Glynn's own ips) there was a
wedding at Brixton, hamlet some five
miles distant, and her cook and house
maid, being related to the bride, desired
TO attend it.
There was no way for them to get
there unless John Thorn (the farmer)
drove them over and stayed to bring
them back.
Now Miss Glynn, as I said before,
was no coward, and she was, moreover,
very indulgent to her farm hands, so she
said: "You may go; / am not at ali
afraid to be left alone; only be sure to
return in time for the mornings work. =
In wing of the old house slept Jim
SANFORD, the chore-boy, a half-witted
fellow, maybe fifteen years old, who
would have been of no use rs q pro.
$ector; but Miss Glynn laughingly un.
chained Don, the great watchdog,
more TO satisfy the servants than from
any nervous fears of her own. And
when the usual time came for retiring
she went up to her lonely room with as
Aiftle dread Of the shadows Of night fall.
ing on the old house as if a regiment Of
mounted dragons kept guard outside
her window.
She said that she must have fallen in.
TO a light doze, when something (she
never knew WHAT awakened her. Nc
moon shone in through the old-fash.
ioned gabled windows, and everything
was plunged in that profound stiffness
which can be felt.
A peculiar consciousness of another
presence in the room came over Miss
STiynn. It oppressed her; she tried te
shake it off, to think Of something else
TO 20 to sleep. The distant bark Of
% Watchdog fell on her ears She en-
eleayored to weary herself by counting
the barks--in vain; above and beyond
all other ideas was the persistent anc
haunting one that in her chamber
somewhere another human being wa:
concealed.
Miss Glynn was an energetic woman
her resolves were but the precludes tt
Immediate action. AL of a sudden tbs
!. darkness became intolerable to her, anc
without any actual fear, but more from
Il longing desire for q ray Of light, sht
STRETCHED out her hand to reach