"When I lib back for Okky City," the King said once, "you fit for come and see me there now?"
"Certainly, King, if you'll name a date when you haven't got a custom on."
King Kallee looked thoughtfully at his guest. "Dem English no fit for like dem custom-palaver?"
"They don't, one little bit."
"For why?"
"Gets on their nerves."
"Dem English King, he send his war-boys if I make dem custom-palaver more?"
"It's the common topic of conversation down the Coast as to when England will send an expedition to cut you up."
"Because I stop dem roads an' spoil trade to factories?"
"Pooh, King! You know precious little about the British Government. You may spoil all the trade in Africa if you like, you may even cut up half a dozen factory agents or so, and the British Government won't care a little hang. But if you will go on in your simple way crucifying slaves, and carving up your own subjects, why, then, it's only a question of time before they'll pull you off your perch and send you into an inexpensive exile in St. Helena."