chantant

Towards four o'clock everybody showed a tendency to migrate in the direction of the café chantant.

“Toujours chantant, toujours riant” (Always singing, always laughing), were the words of the lieutenant who fired the battery.

There was one special song we heard very often rising up from the Café Chantant, in the room at the dug-out.

A band was playing in a cafe chantant hidden somewhere among the trees, and a woman had just stopped singing.

"Monsieur would make a fortune in the café-chantant," commented Gaston.