Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1893-12-11
HE WHISPERED.
They met on tho steamer.


He was modest, inoffensive youth, one
Of the kind seldom appreciated on short
acquaintance and yet at heart sensible,
honest, intelligent fellow.
She was young, good looking and indie
pendent, one Of those girls who, having
made up their minds that they want thing,
set themselves to work at once to get it.
Now, long before the Paris had reached
Liverpool she had decided that she wanted
this particular young man more than any
thing else in the world, and, as was her
habit, having come to conclusion, she
went to work in earnest to accomplish her
object.
He was willing to be won, but lacked the
courage to speak the words that were al
ways trembling on his lips, but never left
them. She had helped him on repeatedly
in fact, had almost spoken for him, so anx-
ious was she to answer YES but always,
just as he was about to speak, the thought
of his boldness and the Importance of the
step swept over him like flood, in which
he sank, gasping hopelessly for breath.
I am afraid, had it been leap year, this
eager young woman would have exercised
the right that season gives to her sex, in
which case much trouble would have been
saved them both; but it was not leap year,
so she still waited and hoped. This was the
state of affairs at the end of month which
he had spent with her party in the north of
England. During this time she had courted
him in railway carriages, on steamboats,, at
the tops Of mountains, in the crypts of
cathedrals and in ruined abbeys. She had
prayed that he might find courage to speak,
and, am afraid, had sworn mildly, as
young ladies sometimes do, because he had
not.
They had reached London, that city of
historical associations and fog, and were
doing the sights. Side by side they wan
dered through the somber aisles Of West
minister abbey; together they gazed at the
crown jewels in the Tower. They had been
all over the city on the tops of penny Buses
and had gone from Westminster bridge to
London bridge on the penny boats, and
during all these trips she had never for
moment lost sight of the object she ever
pursued, and which, like the will the
wisp, persstently evaded her.
One morning they strolled into st. Paul's
cathedral and Baedeker in hand wandered
down its lofty aisles filed with marble
tributes to the memory Of fallen heroes
Then, having paid their sixpences, they
climbed the 260 steps that ended In the cele-
brated whispering gallery.
AS every one knows, this gallery is at the
base of the great dome 100 feet above the
pavement. They emerged from the dimiy
lighted spiral stairway, whose stone steps
are worn by the feet of countless tourists,
into the great circle where stood an old
,pop bto cnontu rvhito 1oo1yo oovorod with
black skullcap. He looked as though he
might have lived in that lofty gallery, with
out once visiting the earth below, ever since
the day of its completion.
"Please take the seats on the opposite
side," be said. Put your ears close to the
wall, and you will hear distinctly what
say in low whisper over a hundred feet
away"
A moment later, and they had made the
circuit of the gallery and were seated, their
ears pressed against the WALL their heads
very near together. Far away across the
open space from which rose the sound Of
many footballs below they saw the old man
place his lips to the curved surface of the
wall. Then they started as they heard these
words, uttered in low sepulchral tones,
coming apparently from the other side Of
the petition: 1.-THE building of this cathe-
dral was commenced in the year 1875 by
Sir Christopher Wren. 1t was IS years in
building and cost a747,954" Then fol-
lowed the dimensionE and much uninter-
esting detail.
He listened intently, but she had hardly
heard word the old man said. An idea
had struck her, and turning eagerly to her
companion she said:
go around to the other side and whisper
to me. It will be ever SO much nicer than
all this dry stuff and so romantic"
He arose obediently, then stopped, and
with an air of confusion asked what he
should say.
Now was her opportunity, and she must
seize 1t Looking straight into his eyes
with an earnestness that brought blush
to the young mans face, she said:
"Whisrer what is nearest to your heart"
He left her hurriedly, look of determi,
nation OF his face such as had never been
there befoye A moment more, and he was
seated at the opposite side Of the gallery.
He hesitated. glanced across the space that
divided them, then resolutely placed his
lips to the sail. Her heart seemed to stop
beating; her face grew rigid and colorless.
Eagerly she waited, but only for a moment.
Then the color rushed back to her cheeks,
and triumphant light came into her eyes.
Fred Grant Young in Kate Fields Wash
inptOn,