The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1884-07-12
MISS GLYNN'S ADVENTURE.

Many years ago there stood at the
crossroads between Brixton and Cramp-
ton County an old farmhouse, built in
a style that few of us remember, with
large, cheerful rooms and windows that
opened on to a carefully lawn.
Roses and honeysuckles grew there in
rich profuson, and in the fall bright
yellow chrysanthemums decked the gar
den 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 in spite of
its beauty timid person would have
hesitated to buy it.
But Miss Glynn was not timid per-
son. She had lived thirty-five 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 q ro-
nance early in her youth, which had
ended in cruel disappointment, and that
when her father died and left her sole
possessor 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 a well-regulated house
+, hold.
One night Il have this story from
Miss Glynn's own lips) there was a
wedding at Brixton, a 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; l am not at all
afraid to be left alone; only be sure to
return in time for the mornings work"
In wing of the old house slept Jim
Sandford, the chore-boy, half-witted
fellow, maybe fifteen years old, who
would have been of no use rs pro-
= tector; but Miss Glynn laughingH I'M
chained Don, the great Watchdog,
more 60 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
little 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 light doze, when something (she
never knew WHAT awakened her. No
moon shone in through the old-fash-
toned 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
Glynn. 1t oppressed her; she tried to
shake it off, to think of something else
to go to sleep. The distant bark of
Watchdog fell on her ears. She en-
deavored to weary herself by counting
the barks-in vain; above and beyond
all sther ideas was the persistent and
haunting one that in her chamber
somewhere another human being was
concealed.
Miss Glynn was an energetic woman;
her resolves were but the precludes to
immediate action. All of a sudden the
darkness became intolerable TO her, and
without any actual fear, but more from
longing desire for ray OF light, she
stretched out her hand to reach q