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"'Oh, grand to the war he goes, O gai, rive le roi!" he said teasingly. He thought she might have a lover among the recruits at Dalgrothe Mountain. She turned to him, startled, for she thought he meant Valmond. She did not speak, but became very still and pale. "Better tie him up with a garter, Elise, and get the old uncle back to Ville Bambord. Trouble's coming. The game'll soon be up."
You may well judge whether we mourn. I suppose there never was such a mournful affair since a king died in this country." "Murdered?" cried Prosper, highly scandalized. "Murdered by Prosper le Gai for the sake of the Chained Virgin." "By Prosper le Gai?" "'Tis so indeed. And well he did his work, if there's anything in wrist play.
"Ces dames are not accustomed to such heights a ces hauteurs peut-etre?" The ladies in truth were not, unhappily, always so well lodged; from this height at least one could hope to see a city. "Ah! ha! c'est gai par ici, n'est-ce pas? One has the sun all to one's self, and air! Ah! for freshness one must climb to an attic in these days, it appears."
For she sought Messire Prosper le Gai, a lord, the friend of ladies. Again. A man should cleave unto his wife: but Messire le Gai is a man, therefore Messire should cleave unto his wife. 'La, la! one will say, 'but he hath no wife, owl! and think to lay me flat. Oh, wise fool, I reply, take another syllogism conceived in this manner and double-tongued.
"Madame" and Mary of Scotland knelt before the Queen "you will hold a Court now, will you not?" "O gai! O gai!" And there was a chorus of laughter and cheers. Where all this foolery might have ended Heaven knows. The Queen herself seemed to be enjoying it, and was about to make some reply to Mary, when there was a bustle at the door, and an usher called out: "The King! His Majesty the King!"
Down towards the river a sleigh was making its way over the thin snow of spring, and screeching on the stones. Some late revellers, moving homewards from the Trois Couronnes, were roaring at the top of their voices the habitant chanson, 'Le Petit Roger Bontemps': "For I am Roger Bontemps, Gai, gai, gai! With drink I am full and with joy content, Gai, gaiment!"
"Il est bon, il est gai, mon soldat," but he sometimes drank too much alcohol, and that was a bad habit. Perhaps now, since his comrade had stepped into a cellar hole Monday night while he was drunk, and had been drowned, her "Sharlie" would be warned and would do better. Marie was evidently a well brought up child. Her father, she said, had been a schoolmaster.
Certainly I could not have two more delightful companions, each so different and yet so entertaining. The Marquis was very aggressive and grumpy; but very amusing. In French one says, "On a le vin triste," or "On a le vin gai." He began by attacking me on the English language.
and the hero of the tale, a young French poet, who is in London, is truly unhappy in that village. Arthur desseche et meurt. Dans la ville de Sterne, Rien qu'en voyant le peuple il a le mal de mer Il n'aime ni le Parc, gai comme une citerne, Ni le tir au pigeon, ni le soda-water. Liston ne le fait plus sourciller!
Instantly Iberville and Perrot responded, and there rang out from three strong throats the words: "There was a king of Normandy, And he rode forth to war, Gai faluron falurette! He had five hundred men-no more! Gai faluron donde! "There was a king of Normandy, Came back from war again; He brought a maid, O, fair was she! And twice five hundred men Gai faluron falurette! Gai faluron donde!"
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