Very Good, Jeeves!

by P.G. Wodehouse

‘What do ties matter, Jeeves, at a time like this? Do you realize that Mr Little’s domestic happiness is hanging in the scale?’ ‘There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter.’

‘Very good, sir.’ ‘Don’t keep saying “Very good”. It’s nothing of the kind. The place is alive with swans.’

‘How does it look?’ ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Ha!’ I said. And I meant it to sting.

‘I have been subjected to a nervous strain unparalleled since the days of the early Martyrs. I have lost pounds in weight and permanently injured my entire system. I have gone through an ordeal, the recollection of which will make me wake up screaming in the night for months to come. And all for nothing.

And this, mark you, a man who had had a good upbringing and had, no doubt, spent years at his mother’s knee being taught to tell the truth.

‘A Miss Pendlebury. Christian name, Gwladys. She spells it with a “w”.’ ‘With a “g”, you mean.’ ‘With a “w” and a “g”.’ ‘Not Gwladys?’ ‘That’s it.’ The relative uttered a yowl. ‘You sit there and tell me you haven’t enough sense to steer clear of a girl who calls herself Gwladys? Listen, Bertie,’ said Aunt Dahlia earnestly, ‘I’m an older woman than you are – well, you know what I mean – and I can tell you a thing or two. And one of them is that no good can come of association with anything labelled Gwladys or Ysobel or Ethyl or Mabelle or Kathryn. But particularly Gwladys. What sort of girl is she?’

You see, he had been looking forward to it rather. From the moment I had accepted the invitation, there had been a sort of nautical glitter in his eye, and I’m not sure I hadn’t heard him trolling Chanties in the kitchen. I think some ancestor of his must have been one of Nelson’s tars or something, for he has always had the urge of the salt sea in his blood. I have noticed him on liners, when we were going to America, striding the deck with a sailorly roll and giving the distinct impression of being just about to heave the main-brace or splice the binnacle.

Jeeves and the nautical motif. Dude just loves the sea so much.

‘Awful!’ I said. ‘Iniquitous.’ ‘A bally shame.’ ‘A crying scandal,’ said Miss Mapleton. ‘A grim show,’ I agreed.

my report generally read ‘Has little or no ability, but does his best,’

Same

I eyed the man fixedly. His head stuck out at the back, and his eyes sparkled with the light of pure intelligence. ‘I am sorry for the shrimp that tries to pit its feeble cunning against you, Jeeves,’ I said. And I meant it.

One of the first lessons life teaches us is that on these occasions of back-chat between the delicately-nurtured a man should retire into the offing, curl up in a ball, and imitate the prudent tactics of the opossum, which, when danger is in the air, pretends to be dead, frequently going to the length of hanging out crêpe and instructing its friends to stand round and say what a pity it all is.

‘“Exit hurriedly, pursued by a bear”. You’ll find it in one of his plays. I remember drawing a picture of it on the side of the page, when I was at school.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t for a moment suppose you do, either,’

‘Quite the private Zoo, what?’ ‘Bertie,’ said Aunt Dahlia – and I could see her generous nature was stirred to its depths – ‘one more crack like that out of you, and I shall forget that I am an aunt and hand you one.’

Listen to me. It’s simply because I am fond of you and have influence with the Lunacy Commissioners that you weren’t put in a padded cell years ago. Bungle this business, and I withdraw my protection.