Charles Johnson:
An austere character – he deemed jam “effeminate” and replaced his lost eye with a glass one from a stuffed albatross
His grandson, Anthony Brooke:
[was] supercilious, reluctant to take advice and had displayed a tendency to judge officers according to their horoscopes… The unreliable Ranee later alleged that Anthony had been guilty of folie de grandeur, having cardboard crowns pinned to his car and ordering traffic to draw aside as he approached. Anthony denied this.
Charles Johnson:
An austere character – he deemed jam “effeminate” and replaced his lost eye with a glass one from a stuffed albatross
His grandson, Anthony Brooke:
[was] supercilious, reluctant to take advice and had displayed a tendency to judge officers according to their horoscopes… The unreliable Ranee later alleged that Anthony had been guilty of folie de grandeur, having cardboard crowns pinned to his car and ordering traffic to draw aside as he approached. Anthony denied this.
From an obituary in the Telegraph, to which I was led by Peter Risdon.
Having Charles Johnson to breakfast must have been a fraught business.
“Now, ah, we know you don’t want the jam with your toast… perhaps, um, the, ah, the marmalade?”
“HOW DARE YOU? MARMALADE? ARE YOU TRYING TO INSINUATE THAT I’M SOME SORT OF GIRL’S BLOUSE?”