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"Loo-Loo was in fine voice to-night," said one. "Yes; she took plenty of cognac before she sang; that always clears her voice," said a second. "And I think that did her spirits good, shooting that Kabyl," said a third. "By the way, did he die?" "N'sais pas, Loo-Loo's a good aim." "Sac a papier, yes! Rire-pour-tout taught her." "Ah! There never was a shot like Rire-pour-tout.
This song will prove a rare treat to you, I know. It made the author rich for an author. It is called 'My Lulu." Then the phonograph began to play. A strain of odd, jerky sounds was followed by these words, sung by a man through his nose with great vigor of expression: "Ah wants mah Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu; Ah wants mah loo-loo, loo-loo, loo-loo, Lu!
“He is our Lou, he is our honey-Lou, He is our pride and joy; He is our Loo-loo, he is our Loo-loo, He is our Lou-Lou boy.” “Silly song!” exclaimed Collingwood with disgust. “Wes made it up just this evening, at Mrs. Barclay’s,” said Dennison. “We were all singing, and after a while Wes edged in to the piano and sprung this on us. Don’t you think it’s a good song?”
All of which assertions being duly disproved, Jean was remanded to La Ferte for psychopathic observation and safe keeping on the technical charge of wearing an English officer's uniform. Jean's particular girl at La Ferte was "LOO-Loo." With Lulu it was the same as with les princesses in Paris "me no travaille, jam-MAIS. Les femmes travaillent, geev Jean mun-ee, sees, sees-tee, see-cent francs.
Mother, Loo-loo, come," and breaking off from her very sisterly remarks concerning Hugh, 'Lina sprang up in terror as a large beetle, attracted by the light, fastened itself upon her hair. Mrs.
Colonel Guff was a Dream when he got into his $275 Uniform with the Gold Braid rigged all over the Front. He wore a Chapeau similar to the one worn by Napoleon at Austerlitz, but he had on top of it seven Tail-Feathers of the Loo-Loo Bird, which rather laid over anything that Napoleon ever wore.
The spelling is atrocious. Here it is: "Mr. Peter Winn, SIR: I send you respectfully by express a pigeon worth good money. She's a loo-loo " "What is a loo-loo?" Peter Winn interrupted. The secretary tittered. "I'm sure I don't know, except that it must be a superlative of some sort. The letter continues: "Please freight it with a couple of thousand-dollar bills and let it go.
"Mrs. Brace, you're a loo-loo! A loo-loo, by gravy! Sure, that was his reason. He couldn't have had any other!" "As for Webster himself," she carried on her exposition, without emotion, without the slightest recognition of her pupil's praise, "he proves the correctness of everything we've said, so far.
You'd ought to see the Mississippi, she's a loo-loo. The bridge, too, is worth seein'." During the evening there was a serious talk about hotels and the amusements to be had. One faction, led by McCleary, of Currant Creek, stood for the "Drovers' Home." "It's right out near the stockyards an' it's a good place. Dollar a day covers everything, unless you want a big room, which is a quarter extra.
'Ho Loo-loo, come quick, jes' as if she done nothin' all her life but order a nigger 'round. I knows better. I knows how she done made her own bed, combed her own ha'r, and like enough washed her own rags afore she comed here. Yes, 'Loo-loo is coming," and the saucy wench darted off to 'Lina screaming loudly for her.
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