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"I niver knowed that ve were a cousin befoor," said "His Majesty," "or else I'd saluted ye in our r'y'l fashion, just as our cousin Quane Victoria did whin she acknowledged the Imperor Napoleon. It's our way to acknowledge relationship wid the r'y'l kiss. We call it the Kiss av State. Allow me, cousin." And before the astounded Mrs.
It seems that since I passed that way before, the Imperor had mandamused the Impress wid a divorce suit, and Misses Poppæa, a cilibrated lady, was ingaged, widout riferences, as housekeeper at the palace.
'We was quartered in a big cantonmint 'tis no manner av use namin' names, for ut might give the barricks disrepitation an' I was the Imperor av the Earth to my own mind, an' wan or tu women thought the same. Small blame to thim. Afther we had lain there a year, Bragin, the Colour Sargint av E Comp'ny, wint an' took a wife that was lady's maid to some big lady in the Station.
"'And for what, says I, 'do ye smoke be night in dark places widout even a cinturion in plain clothes to attend ye? "'Have ye ever heard, Michob, says the Imperor, 'of predestinarianism? "'I've had the cousin of it, says I. 'I've been on the trot with pedestrianism for many a year, and more to come, as ye well know.
The old man blinked belligerently through his senile tears. "'Tis time," he said, "that the liars be doin' justice to somebody. Yer historians are no more than a pack of old women gabblin' at a wake. A finer man than the Imperor Nero niver wore sandals. Man, I was at the burnin' of Rome. I knowed the Imperor well, for in them days I was a well-known char-acter.
"We was quartered in a big cantonmint 'tis no manner av use namin' names, for ut might give the barricks disrepitation an' I was the Imperor av the Earth to my own mind, an' wan or tu women thought the same. Small blame to thim. Afther we had lain there a year, Bragin, the Color Sargint av E Comp'ny, wint an' took a wife that was lady's maid to some big lady in the Station.
"'The longer word, says me friend Nero, 'is the tachin' of this new sect of people they call the Christians. 'Tis them that's raysponsible for me smokin' be night in holes and corners of the dark. "And then I sets down and takes off a shoe and rubs me foot that is frosted, and the Imperor tells me about it.
He was a little man no larger than yerself, with hair the colour of an amber pipe stem. They buried him at Samarkand. I was at the wake, sir. Oh, he was a fine-built man in his coffin, six feet long, with black whiskers to his face. And I see 'em throw turnips at the Imperor Vispacian in Africa. All over the world I have tramped, sir, without the body of me findin' any rest. 'Twas so commanded.
Well, I'm tellin' ye I was passin' the Circus Maximus, and it was dark as pitch over the way, and then I heard somebody sing out, 'Is that you, Michob? "Over ag'inst the wall, hid out amongst a pile of barrels and old dry-goods boxes, was the Imperor Nero wid his togy wrapped around his toes, smokin' a long, black segar. "'Have one, Michob? says he.
"'None of the weeds for me, says I 'nayther pipe nor segar. What's the use, says I, 'of smokin' when ye've not got the ghost of a chance of killin' yeself by doin' it? "'True for ye, Michob Ader, my perpetual Jew, says the Imperor; 'ye're not always wandering. Sure, 'tis danger gives the spice of our pleasures next to their bein' forbidden.
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