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Updated: May 31, 2025
Some mother's heart must be bursting for her! Hush thee! hush thee, little one; we will take thee home and clothe thee, and then thou shalt go to thy mother," she added, in better English than she had spoken four years earlier in Alton Wood. But the child still cried for her da-da, and the Princess asked again, "What is thy father's name, little maid?"
"Jove! but aren't you the strong little beggar, though! Needn't tell me you don't know a good thing when you see it! So I'm 'da-da, am I?" he went on, unhesitatingly accepting as the pure gold of knowledge the shameless imitation vocabulary his son was foisting upon him. "Well, I expect I am, and " "Oh, Cyril!" The door had opened, and Marie was in the room.
It will seem like old times, before I was married." Minny Moore was in some respects a very remarkable woman. Though little Carry was her first baby, she could talk on other subjects. She did not expect you to listen with rapture to the tenth account of how baby had said "Da-da," or thrill with agony over the tale of an attack of wind.
It had not been long enough in the water to lose its consciousness, though it had hitherto been too much frightened to cry; but it no sooner opened a wide pair of dark eyes to find itself in strange hands, than it set up a lamentable wail, calling in broken accents for "Da-da."
Uncle, he had intended they should call him; but that is, for beginning speech, a hard saying, embracing both a palatal and a liquid. Whereas Da-da the syllables come almost unconsciously to the infant mouth. So he had encouraged it, and even felt an irrational pride in the honourable but unearned title. A little word, Daddy, but one of the most potent, he was thinking.
"To Lollypop's little Bonbon Tootems from her foolish old Da-Da!" Helene turned toward the window, to gaze out over the mysterious, foreign motley array of roofs and obtruding skyscrapers of this curious district. "This mysterious man plays his part with a sense of humor. If only he will be different and not mean the flowers, ever!"
"She's awfully European in her habits, you see. You need not feel flattered. She calls Conrad and Rudolph and Max da-da, and this morning in the back window she applied the same handsome compliment to your Mr. Poopendyke." "Oh," said I, rather more crestfallen than relieved. "Would you like to hold her, Mr. Smart? She's such a darling to hold." "No no, thank you," I cried, backing off.
"Are you going to inform the mayor of Saint-Lys?" asked Jack. "Of course," muttered Passerat, gathering up his reins; "heu! da-da! heu! cocotte! en route!" and he rattled sulkily away, perhaps a little uncertain himself as to the concreteness of his recent vision. Jack looked after him. "There might be something in it," he mused, "but, dear me! his nose is unpleasantly sunburned."
Say, party, take it from me break open your bank and count your pennies, for it's the chance of a lifetime. Da-da." She discusses the advisability of chorus girls charging time for their company like a taxicab. She goes for a sail on the river and the party meets with several accidents before finally having a wreck.
Ain't she the purties' object you ever set yer two optics on? Say 'Da-da, Loreny, leave off talkin' to her, Chick. Go on, Loreny, say, 'Da-da' fer de purty lady!" "He's that silly about her," said Maria Flathers, trying to conceal her own pride. "He won't leave me put anything but white dresses and blue shoes on her, an' he works extra time to pay fer 'em.
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