United States or Georgia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"It was hot," said Madelon, her face flushing up again at the recollection; "and one is not always in the mood for singing, you know, Madge." "Ah, but do sing me just one song, now, Cousin Madelon just here, before I go to sleep." Still kneeling, with Madge's head nestling on her shoulder, Madelon began to sing a little half-gay, half-melancholy French romance of many verses.
All of them were flower-crowned with the luminous, lovely blooms old and young, slender, mocking-eyed girls, dwarfed youths, mothers with their babes, gnomed oldsters on they poured, silent for the most part and sullen a sullenness that held acid bitterness even as their subtle, half-sinister, half-gay malice seemed tempered into little keen-edged flames, oddly, menacingly defiant.
"Well, we was sure that you was in trouble," put in Sonora. "My breath jest stopped." "Me? Me in trouble, Sonora?" A little laugh that was half-gay, half-derisive, accompanied her words. "See here, that man Ramerrez " followed up Rance with a grim look. " feller you was dancin' with," interposed Sonora, but checked himself instantly lest he wound the Girl's feelings.
He adverted, in a mellow and delightful manner, to the little half-gay, half-melancholy, campaigning song, said to have been composed by General Wolfe, and sung by him at the mess table, on the eve of the storming of Quebec, in which he fell so gloriously: "Why, soldiers, why, Should we be melancholy, boys? Why, soldiers, why, Whose business 'tis to die!
Now that Death was really knocking, the half-gay, half-frightened defiance with which she walked the palace of life, one moment listening to the sounds at the gate, the next throwing herself passionately into the revelry within, revealed to the son a new fact about her a fact of poetry unutterably welcome. Even her fawning dependents, the Fullertons, ceased to annoy him.
Word Of The Day