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Until she was fifteen, she never had been called anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the Creole ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return.
Until she was fifteen, she never had been called anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the Creole ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return.
Until she was fifteen, she never had been called anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the Creole ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return.
'Ah, le pauv' Loulou so now he has the pretension to be jealous. Then she would be interrupted by a paroxysm of laughter; after which, 'Oh, qu'il est drôle, she would gasp. 'Pourvu qu'il ne devienne pas gênant!
He solemnly extended a small and grubby hand towards her. Slowly her head came round, her eyes took him in almost uncomprehendingly; she saw the childish face, the little dirty hand, and suddenly there came to her the great gift of the Healer. "Oh! mon bébé, mon pauv' p'tit bébé!" She picked him up off the chair and, clutching him in her arms, put her face on his head and sobbed out her heart.
The Duke of Ampoule, who was the great financier of the party, was chosen treasurer and charged with organising funds for the propaganda. The meeting was on the point of coming to an end when a rough voice was heard singing an old air: Boscenos est un gros cochon; On en va faire des andouilles Des saucisses et du jambon Pour le reveillon des pauv' bougres.
Ah! could she have seen the desperate, terrible glance fixed upon her down there in the hall, concealed behind a pillar, her smile would have lost that equivocal placidity, her voice would have sought in vain those wheedling, languorous tones in which she warbled the only song Madame Dobson had ever been able to teach her: Pauv' pitit Mamz'elle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne La tete a li.
Pale, disenchanted, with her mind upon other things, in the flickering light of the candles which seemed to be burning incense, the air was so heavy with the odor of the hyacinths and lilacs in the garden, she began a Creole ballad very popular in Louisiana, which Madame Dobson herself had arranged for the voice and piano: "Pauv' pitit Mam'zelle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete a li."
Ah! could she have seen the desperate, terrible glance fixed upon her down there in the hall, concealed behind a pillar, her smile would have lost that equivocal placidity, her voice would have sought in vain those wheedling, languorous tones in which she warbled the only song Madame Dobson had ever been able to teach her: Pauv' pitit Mamz'elle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne La tete a li.
Pale, disenchanted, with her mind upon other things, in the flickering light of the candles which seemed to be burning incense, the air was so heavy with the odor of the hyacinths and lilacs in the garden, she began a Creole ballad very popular in Louisiana, which Madame Dobson herself had arranged for the voice and piano: "Pauv' pitit Mam'zelle Zizi, C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete a li."
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