"Bang your heads on the floor and do homage to Larry the First, Emperor of Great Britain, Autocrat of all Ireland, Scotland, England, and Wales, and adjacent waters and islands! Kneel, ye scuts, kneel." "Larry," I cried, "are you going crazy ?" "Not a bit of it," he said.

"I'm that and more if Comrade Marakinoff is on the level.

Whoop! Bring forth the royal jewels an' put a whole new bunch of golden strings in Tara's harp an' down with the Sassenach forever! Whoop!" He did a wild jig.
"Lord how good the old togs feel," he grinned.

"The touch of 'em has gone to my head.

But it's straight stuff I'm telling you about my empire." He sobered.
"Not that it's not serious enough at that.