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Now, my child, old Da-da, is going to become too intoxicated to talk three words to any of these gallants and their lassies. Grimsby did not write a monologue for me, so I must pantomime: you will have to carry the speaking part of our playlet. Flatter them but don't leave my side to dance!" Shirley shielded his face beneath a drooping spray of artificial blooms from the top of their wallbower.
His blood hammered in his brain. God God it was impossible it could not be it was a dream! Beyond, from far distant in the street came the cry of a little child: "Da-da daddy." The prisoner threw up his arms and then fell upon his face upon the bed, torn by sobs.
"Da-da," Grey said at last. "Take me, peese; I'se tired." Oh, how the old man longed to snatch the child to his bosom and cover his face with the kisses he had so hungered to give him, but in his morbid state of mind he dared not, lest he should contaminate him, so he restrained himself with a mighty effort, and replied: "No, Grey, no; I cannot take you. I am tired, too."
"And it run on like that. I don't understand it all. It was written to my father " "A love poem!" Mrs. Mortimer broke in. "I remember it. Wait a minute.... Da-da-dah, da-da-dah, da-da-dah, da-da STANDS "'In the spray of a fountain, whose seed-amethysts Tremble lightly a moment on bosom and hands, Then drip in their basin from bosom and wrists.
When he began the song she stretched out her arms to him; her lips moved; she called to him in dreamy tones: "Da-da, come take Dums home!" Miss Phoebe released the low key of the organ. But her work had been well done. The note that she struck had beaten down the doors of a closed memory; and Father Abram held his lost Aglaia close in his arms.
He is very handsome, you say." "Oh, that isn't it," cried the Countess, taking Rosemary in her arms and directing me to a spot on her rosy cheek. "Kiss right there, Mr. Smart. There! Wasn't it a nice kiss, honey-bunch? If you are a very, very nice little girl the kind gentleman will kiss you on the other cheek some day. She calls every man she meets da-da," explained the radiant young mother.
Baby, say 'Da-da. There, he has put his mouth up, and his memory is so wonderful! Oh, Caryl, what do you think of that and the first time of trying it by moonlight?" "There is no time for this nonsense, Polly. He is a wonderful baby, I dare say; and so is every baby, till he gets too old. You must obey orders, and be off with him." "Oh no! You are come to take us with you.
On seeing me she held out her chubby arms and shouted "da-da!" at the top of her infantile lungs. That had never happened to me before. I flushed and the Countess shrieked with laughter. It wouldn't have been so bad if the nurse had known her place. If there is one thing in this world that I hate with fervour, it is an ill-mannered, poorly-trained servant.
His burden-bearers had not arrived with the basket containing his rifle, and as it was already late in the afternoon, he suggested to Da-Da, the Chinese boy who was his constant companion, that they make a preliminary inspection of the lair even though they carried only shotguns loaded with lead slugs about the size of buckshot.
A grinning nurse-maid is the worst of all. I may be super-sensitive and crotchety about such things, but I can see no excuse for keeping a servant especially a nurse-maid who laughs at everything that's said by her superiors, even though the quip may be no more side-splitting than a two syllabled "da-da." "Ha, ha!" I laughed bravely. "She she evidently thinks I look like the Count.
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