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"Sh-shh " said I. Two others drew near, as if a bottle had been opened. And Firthus, my closest friend, gripped my arm, leaving a blue welt where his thumb had pressed. "It's as bad to say 'sh-sh as to say what he said," Firthus whispered. Yes, even in the coldness, there was a thrill to that. Perhaps we thrill at the first breath of that which is to come and change us over.
Then, just as he raised his hand for one more blow on the door, he felt it open a very little, pushing him back. And at the same moment a voice whispered: "Sh-sh!" Very gradually the door was opened a little farther. A hand caught the sleeve of his coat. It was quite dark outside the door as dark as in the front room.
Should he continue the offence, a severe frown must accompany the next "sh-sh," a lorgnette if available adding great effectiveness to the rebuke. This will win you the gratitude of your neighbors and serve to establish your position socially, as well as musically for perfect "sh-shers" do not come from the lower classes.
Girls were continually going into innocent gales of mirth because long-lost bills were discovered, shut in some old ledger, or rushing awe-struck to Miss Thornton with accounts of others that had been carried away in waste-baskets and burned. "Sh-sh! Don't make such a fuss," Miss Thornton would say warningly, with a glance toward Mr. Brauer's office. "Perhaps he'll never ask for them!"
"Sh-sh " At first there was nothing save the whisper of a breeze that stirred the greasewood and then was still. Full in their faces the moon swung clear of the mountains behind San Bonito and hung there, a luminous yellow ball in the deep, star-sprinkled purple. Across the desert it flung a faint, straight pathway in the sand.
Full of eager expectancy they looked up at him as he stood above them, spectral and still and white. "Sh-sh! Silence!" the leaders of the procession called softly; and the murmuring of the congregation died into stillness, as a gust of wind dies among whispering tree-tops. All the crowd gazed up, in breathless silence, at the white figure on the altar-steps.
"Why," whispered he, drawing back, "she's here she's here in the wigwam, sound asleep, and she looks awful glad. Sh-sh" with a warning shake of his finger "we mustn't disturb her; father said I mustn't. Le's go away and wait till she wakes up." They each took a peep at the old Indian woman and went away softly.
"It's that tiresome Miss Jones. You might know she would be somewhere about. She is the crossest teacher in this school." "Sh-sh, Madge," Eleanor lowered her voice, "Miss Jones might hear you. She is ill, I am sure. That is what makes her so cross. Phil and I are both sorry for her." "Oh, you and Phil are sorry for everybody. That's nothing! Thank goodness, there is the bell!
After a silent minute she answered him, in the hushed tone that seemed most in harmony with the tremendous sweep of sky and that great stretch of plain and bare mountain. "I see what you mean. It is terrible even when it's most wonderful. But one little human alone with it would be " "Sh-sh." he whispered. "Listen a minute. Did you ever hear a big silence like this?" "No," she breathed eagerly.
At that instant, Mashenka's maman appears in the doorway of the arbour. . . . She makes a face as though in alarm, and saying "sh-sh" to someone with her, vanishes like Mephistopheles through the trapdoor. Confused and enraged, I return to our villa. At home I find Varenka's maman embracing my maman with tears in her eyes. And my maman weeps and says: "I always hoped for it!"
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