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"Je voudrais bien d'un officier: Je voudrais bien d'un officier: Je marcherais a pas carres, Je marcherais a pas carres, Dans ma joli' chambrette, Ma luron, ma lurette Dans ma joli' chambrette, Ma luron, ma lure." The song ceased with a sound that was half laughter, half sigh. Before I realized what he was doing, Nick, instead of retracing his steps towards the house, started forward.
"Je ne veux pas d'un avocat, Je ne veux pas d'un avocat, Car ils aiment trop les ducats, Car ils aiment trop les ducats, Ils trompent les fillettes, Ma luron, ma lurette, Ils trompent les fillettes, Ma luron, ma lure." "Eliminating Mr. Ritchie, I believe," said Nick, turning on me with a grimace. "But hark again!"
I go all the time, and Lucette Dargois, she go with me and her brother holy, what an eye had she in her head, that Lucette! As we go we sing a song all right, and there is no one sing so better as Norinne: "'C'est la belle Francoise, Allons gai! C'est la belle Francoise, Qui veut se marier, Ma luron lurette! Qui veut se marier, Ma luron lure! "Ver' good, bagosh!
I went forward a few steps, hesitated, and bowed. She courtesied, my name faltering on her lips. Yes, it was Antoinette, not the light-hearted girl whom we had heard singing "Ma luron" in the garden, but a woman now with a strange beauty that astonished me.
"Je ne veux pas d'un avocat, Je ne veux pas d'un avocat, Car ils aiment trop les ducats, Car ils aiment trop les ducats, Ils trompent les fillettes, Ma luron, ma lurette, Ils trompent les fillettes, Ma luron, ma lure." "Eliminating Mr. Ritchie, I believe," said Nick, turning on me with a grimace. "But hark again!"
The words of a song, sung carelessly in a clear, girlish voice, came to us from beyond. "Je voudrais bien me marier, Je voudrais bien me marier, Mais j'ai qrand' peur de me tromper: Mais j'ai grand' peur de me tromper: Ils sont si malhonnetes! Ma luron, ma lurette, Ils sont si malhonnetes! Ma luron, ma lure." "We have come at the very zenith of opportunity," I whispered. "Hush!" he said.
Moi, je to marierai, Ma luron lurette! Moi, je to marierai, Ma luron lure! "So; and another year it go along, and Bargon he know that if there come bad crop it is good-bye-my lover with himselves. He owe two hunder' and fifty dollar. It is the spring at Easter, and I go up to him and Norinne, for there is no Mass, and Pontiac is too far away off.
Then one might have heard all the picturesque songs of the Far North "A la claire Fontaine"; "Ma Boule Roulant"; "Par derrier' chez-mon Pere"; "Isabeau s'y promene"; "P'tite Jeanneton"; "Luron, Lurette"; "Chante, Rossignol, chante"; the ever-popular "Malbrouck"; "C'est la belle Francoise"; "Alouette"; or the beautiful and tender "La Violette Dandine."
I went forward a few steps, hesitated, and bowed. She courtesied, my name faltering on her lips. Yes, it was Antoinette, not the light-hearted girl whom we had heard singing "Ma luron" in the garden, but a woman now with a strange beauty that astonished me.
I go all the time, and Lucette Dargois, she go with me and her brother holy, what an eye had she in her head, that Lucette! As we go we sing a song all right, and there is no one sing so better as Norinne: "'C'est la belle Francoise, Allons gai! C'est la belle Francoise, Qui veut se marier, Ma luron lurette! Qui veut se marier, Ma luron lure! "Ver' good, bagosh!
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