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Updated: June 25, 2025
Quand la porte s'ouvrit de la salle de danse Vomissant tout un flot dont toi, vers ou j'etais, Et de ta voix fait que soudain je me tais, S'il te plait de me donner un ordre peremptoire. Tu t'ecrias 'Dieu, qu'il fait chaud! Patron, a boire!
To play the part of his wife, to hear him say to her, to respond with the affectionate and familiar 'toi', was so amusing! It was droll to see her cut out her husband in chemistry, history, and grammar, and make him confound La Fontaine with Corneille. She had such a little air while doing it!
Not a man escaped her attention, and as we passed through the tents she gave to each of her "chers enfants," black or white, a cheering smile or a kindly word. She did, however, whilst talking to us, omit to salute a Senegalais. Before she passed out of the tent he commenced to call after her, "Toi pas gentille aujourd'hui, moi battre toi."
It was well, after all, that he should follow; the noise of the dog's exit and return would serve to cover his own absence. He sought craftily to make friends with the dog. "Mon chou! Mon cochon!" he said, aping the endearments addressed to dog or horse which he had heard from the French officers at Fort Chartres, where he had recently been. Then suddenly in agitation: "Tais toi! Sois sage!"
I should go back and see the original ones and then I'd hasten on to Paris." And, with a volume of Meyerbeer open in his hand, Gaston hummed: "'Robert, Robert, toi que j'aime. Why, Padre, I think that your library contains none of the masses and all of the operas in the world!" "I will make you a little confession," said Padre Ignacio, "and then you shall give me a little absolution."
"Allons, mon brave; de l'absinthe, toi?" as the cabaret swallowed them up. Great and mighty were the cries and the oaths that issued from the cabaret's open doors and windows. The Villerville fisherman loved Bacchus only, second to Neptune; when he was not out casting his net into the Channel he was drinking up his spoils.
My lil' gal, she's daid of de yellow fever; my lil' boy, he's daid, po' Tante Marie all alone. Didele, she grow fine, she keep house an' mek' pralines. Den, when night come, she sit wid he's guitar an' sing, "'Tu l'aime ces trois jours, Tu l'aime ces trois jours, Ma coeur a toi, Ma coeur a toi, Tu l'aime ces trois jours! "Ah, he's fine gal, is Didele! "Pralines, pralines!
She makes her preparations to be irresistibly fascinating to Adolphe. Women possess a power of mimicking pudicity, a knowledge of secrets which might be those of a frightened dove, a particular register for singing, like Isabella, in the fourth act of Robert le Diable: "Grace pour toi! Grace pour moi!" which leave jockeys and horse trainers whole miles behind. As usual, the Diable succumbs.
One usually spelled out the passport as well as he could, whilst the others smoked their pipes, and from time to time held a light up to the lady's face to examine whether it agreed with the description. "Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her. "Son nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another.
Ton esprit enerve croupit dans la molesse. Reveille toi, sois homme, et sors de ton ivresse. L'homme est ne pour agir, et tu pretens penser?" &c. The original runs thus:
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