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Updated: July 26, 2025
He himself rode out with a regiment of cavalry some ten miles beyond Marienthal, along the road by which the Imperialists would advance were they to assemble to attack him. At two o'clock the next morning a party he had sent to watch the Bavarians brought in the news that Merci was advancing with all his force. Rosen was ordered to hurry forward to the spot where the advanced division was lying.
None of our visitors ever took any, and always excused themselves with the same phrase, "Merci, je vais bien," evidently looking upon it as some strange and hurtful medicine. That has all changed, like everything else.
At the door of the vicarage, near the pretty little church which could be seen from the surrounding country, I saw an old priest who was distributing bottles of white wine to an eager crowd of troopers. I heard him say in a gentle voice: "Here, my lads, take what there is. If the Prussians come, I don't want them to find a drop left." "Merci, ... merci, Monsieur le Curé."
His explanation soon satisfied them, and jumping up, Madame Turgot and Jeannette took their hands, and began pouring out in voluble language their welcomes. "You say `Merci! merci!" said Pierre, "which means `Thank you! thank you!" "Merci! merci!" said Jack and Bill. It was the first word of French they learned, and, as Jack observed, came in very convenient.
'The woman who can manage, like the man who can fight, must never shrink from an encounter. The knight must not disgrace his weapons. 'Then let me pray my BELLE DAME SANS MERCI, he returned, 'to affect the only virtue that she lacks.
My father smiled and then unknotted the bright blue silk neckerchief he wore, and accompanied it with a hearty shake of the hand. "Thank you, captain," he said warmly. "And you merci. We go to war some day. Who know I may be prisonaire. I may come to fight against you, and then. Eh bien, ve fight, but you take me prisonaire, ma foi. I am vis ze shentleman, and it is good."
Monsieur Riel had been all this while pacing up and down his room. A tap came upon his door. "Entrez. Ah, it is you, mon adjudant!" "Oui, mon president." "What tidings?" "C'est accompli. The court-martial has found the prisoner guilty; and he is condemned to be shot at one o'clock this day." "Monsieur is expeditious! Monsieur is zealous. C'est bon; c'est bon; merci, Monsieur."
The New France is inspired with qualities of Old France, qualities which I call Latin, which have emerged into high relief under grief and suffering and effort. It is above all gallant and high-minded. The wounded Frenchman never complains or whimpers. "C'est la guerre que voulez-vous!" To the surgeon who has operated on him, "Merci, mon major."
They poured, grinned. I stood, waiting for their slow brains to act, but there was only a foregone answer. The keeper drank first, as ranking his tender; the other followed; and they handed the flask not the bills back to Peterson and me. "Merci, mes amis!" said I. "And I drink to Jean Lafitte and the old days! Perhaps, you may buy a mass for your cousin's soul?" "Ah non!" answered the keeper.
That's because you lead a cramped life full of hatred, see no one, and read nothing but your engineering books. And, you know, there are good people, good books! Yes... but I am exhausted and it wearies me to talk. I ought to be in bed." "So I am going away, Natalie," I said. "Yes... yes.... Merci...." I stood still for a little while, then went upstairs.
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