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Updated: May 22, 2025
Had I, oh had I a daughter dear, trala, And house and home and meadows untold, Then very like had I had a sweetheart, trala. And a chest with heaps and heaps of gold. There he stood and sang in the rain, but yonder between the dark hazelbushes the head of a little girl was peeping out.
"Colinette au bois s'en alla En sautillant par-ci, par-la; Trala deridera, trala, derid-er-a-a." One jersey-clad figure was singing lustily as he dropped with a spring into his boat. He began to coil the loose ropes at once, as if the disappointments in life were only a necessary interruption, to be accepted philosophically, to this, the serious business of his days.
The man was standing bareheaded in the midst of the downpour, letting the drops revel in his hair and brows, eyes, nose, mouth; he snapped his fingers at the rain, lifted a foot now and again as if he were about to dance, shook his head sometimes, when there was too much water in the hair, and sang at the top of his voice without knowing what he was singing, so pre-occupied was he with the rain: Had I, oh had I a grandson, trala, And a chest with heaps and heaps of gold, Then very likely had I had a daughter, trala, And house and home and meadows untold.
Trilby skips the trala and Little Billee who has no chance to secure a reconsideration cries himself sick, but recovers, comes up smiling like a cotton- patch after a spring shower. He is taken to England, but fails to find that "absence makes the heart grow fonder."
In a chirping tone, which chilled her very soul, the voice sang: "Pour la peche d'Islande, mon mari vient de partir, Il m'a laissee sans le sou, Mais trala, trala la lou!" Then she was seized with that peculiar terror that one has of mad people. The rain fell with an unceasing, fountain-like gush, and streamed down the walls outside.
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