Some of you may recall an episode connected with this home which might
have had a tragic ending. Because of the unprotected condition, and the
drawer in which the small receipts from the store were kept and unworthy
young man, belonging to our village, planned a midnight entrance. Miss
Abby heard the window raised, and, in her night robe and cap, faced the
intruder, just as he entered the room. She dragged the surprised and
struggling man into the front room, and held him fast, meanwhile calling
loudly for help. The aged mother secured a window stick and dealt
unerring blows upon the youth. After a desperate struggle, he escaped
carrying a window frame and many bruises with him, but no money. The
neighbors were aroused by Miss Shepard's cried and came to her relief.

We may safely say that not since the days of the Revolution had the
midnight silence and peace of the village been disturbed by so exciting
an experience. The friends of Miss Shepard presented her with a large,
illustrated Bible in appreciation of her courage and bravery.

On the west corner of Pond and Centre streets stands a large mansion
house of colonial style, with an air of quiet dignity, in the midst of
attractive grounds. In the early days it was called "Linden Hall,"
doubtless because of the magnificent linden-trees which lined the walk to
the entrance and shaded the grounds. John Gould erected it in 1755 for
his son-in-law Rev. John Troutbeck, assistant rector of King's Chapel,
where he officiated for twenty years.

He was an ardent loyalist and returned to England in 1776. As an example
of the change in public sentiment with the lapse of time, we learn that
this noted clergyman was a distiller as well, of whom a witty rhymster
wrote:--