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Enjoy another glorious caper ...with Jeeves & Wooster

A spell in chokey spells trouble for Bertie’s guest in our latest escapade

- by P.G. Wodehouse

THE story so far: In the Big Apple, there is tension between Jeeves and Wooster due to a disagreeme­nt regarding a hat. Lady Malvern, a friend of Wooster’s Aunt Agatha, leaves her ‘sheltered’ son Wilmot, or Motty, to stay while she travels researchin­g her book. Motty enjoys his freedom too much and Wooster fears this might land him in hot water . . .

Ihad had a sort of vague idea, don’t you know, that if I stuck close to Motty and went about the place with him, I might act as a bit of a damper on the gaiety.

What I mean is, I thought that if, when he was being the life and soul of the party, he were to catch my reproving eye he might ease up a trifle on the revelry.

So the next night I took him along to supper with me. It was the last time. I’m a quiet, peaceful sort of bloke who has lived all his life in London, and I can’t stand the pace these swift sportsmen from the rural districts set.

What I mean to say is, I’m all for rational enjoyment and so forth, but I think a chappie makes himself conspicuou­s when he throws soft-boiled eggs at the electric fan. and decent mirth and all that sort of thing are all right, but I do bar dancing on tables and having to dash all over the place dodging waiters, managers and chuckers-out, just when you want to sit still and digest.

directly I managed to tear myself away that night and get home, I made up my mind that this was jolly well the last time that I went about with Motty.

The only time I met him late at night after that was once when I passed the door of a fairly low down sort of restaurant and had to step aside to dodge him as he sailed through the air en route for the opposite pavement, with a muscular sort of looking fellow peering out after him with a kind of gloomy satisfacti­on.

In a way, I couldn’t help sympathisi­ng with the chap. he had about four weeks to have the good time that ought to have been spread over about ten years, and I didn’t wonder at his wanting to be pretty busy. I should have been just the same in his place.

Still, there was no denying that it was a bit thick. If it hadn’t been for the thought of Lady Malvern and aunt agatha in the background, I should have regarded Motty’s rapid work with an indulgent smile. But I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that, sooner or later, I was the lad who was scheduled to get it behind the ear.

and what with brooding on this prospect, and sitting up in the old flat waiting for the familiar footstep, and putting it to bed when it got there, and stealing into the sick-chamber next morning to contemplat­e the wreckage, I was beginning to lose weight. absolutely becoming the good old shadow, I give you my honest word. Starting at sudden noises and what-not.

and no sympathy from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man was still thoroughly pipped about the hat and tie, and simply wouldn’t rally round. One morning I wanted comforting so much that I sank the pride of the Woosters and appealed to the fellow direct.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘this is getting a bit thick!’ ‘Sir?’ ‘You know what I mean. This lad seems to have chucked all the principles of a well-spent boyhood. he has got it up his nose!’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Well, I shall get blamed, don’t you know. You know what my aunt agatha is.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Very well, then.’ I waited a moment, but he wouldn’t unbend. ‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘haven’t you any scheme up your sleeve for coping with this blighter?’

‘No, sir.’ and he shimmered off to his lair. Obstinate devil!

SO DASHED absurd, don’t you know. It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with that Broadway Special hat. It was a remarkably priceless effort, and much admired by the lads. But, just because he preferred the White house Wonder, he left me flat.

It was shortly after this that young Motty got the idea of bringing pals back in the small hours to continue the gay revels in the home. This was where I began to crack under the strain.

You see, the part of town where I was living wasn’t the right place for that sort of thing. I knew lots of chappies down Washington Square way who started the evening at about two a.m. — artists and writers and so forth who frolicked considerab­ly till checked by the arrival of the morning milk.

That was all right. They like that sort of thing down there. The neighbours can’t get to sleep unless there’s someone dancing hawaiian dances over their heads.

But on Fifty-seventh Street the atmosphere wasn’t right, and when Motty turned up at three in the morning with a collection of hearty lads, who only stopped singing their college song when they started singing The Old Oaken Bucket, there was a marked peevishnes­s among the old settlers in the flats. The management was extremely terse over the telephone at breakfastt­ime, and took a lot of soothing.

The next night I came home early, after a lonely dinner at a place which I’d chosen because there didn’t seem any chance of meeting Motty there. The sitting-room was quite dark, and I was just moving to switch on the light, when there was a sort of explosion and something collared hold of my trouser leg.

Living with Motty had reduced me to such an extent that I was simply unable to cope with this thing. I jumped backward with a loud yell of anguish, and tumbled out into the hall just as Jeeves came out of his den to see what the matter was. ‘did you call, sir?’ ‘Jeeves! There’s something in there that grabs you by the leg!’ ‘That would be Rollo, sir.’ ‘eh?’ ‘I would have warned you of his presence, but I did not hear you come in.

‘his temper is a little uncertain at present, as he has not yet settled down.’

‘Who the deuce is Rollo?’

‘his lordship’s bull-terrier, sir. his lordship won him in a raffle, and tied him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will go in and switch on the light.’

There really is nobody like Jeeves. he walked straight into the sitting-room, the biggest feat since daniel and the lions’ den, without a quiver.

What’s more, his magnetism or whatever they call it was such that the dashed animal, instead of pinning him by the leg, calmed down as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his back with all his paws in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn’t have been more chummy.

Yet directly he caught sight of me again, he got all worked up and seemed to have only one idea in life — to start chewing me where he had left off.

‘Rollo is not used to you yet, sir,’ said Jeeves, regarding the bally quadruped in an admiring sort of way. ‘he is an excellent watchdog.’

‘I don’t want a watchdog to keep me out of my rooms.’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘Well, what am I to do?’ ‘No doubt in time the animal will learn to discrimina­te, sir. he will learn to distinguis­h your peculiar scent.’ ‘What do you mean — my peculiar scent? Correct the

impression that I intend to hang about in the hall while life slips by, in the hope that one of these days that dashed animal will decide that I smell all right.’ I thought for a bit. ‘Jeeves!’ ‘Sir?’ ‘I’m going away — tomorrow morning by the first train. I shall go and stop with Mr Todd in the country.’

‘Do you wish me to accompany you, sir?’ ‘No.’ ‘Very good, sir.’ ‘I don’t know when I shall be back. Forward my letters.’

‘Yes, sir.’

AS A matter of fact, I was back within the week. Rocky Todd, the pal I went to stay with, is a rummy sort of a chap who lives all alone in the wilds of Long Island, and likes it; but a little of that sort of thing goes a long way with me.

Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a few days in his cottage in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New York, even with Motty on the premises, began to look pretty good to me.

The days down on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can’t get to sleep at night because of the bellowing of the crickets; and you have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an evening paper. I thanked Rocky for his kind hospitalit­y, and caught the only train they have down in those parts.

It landed me in New York about dinner time. I went straight to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked round cautiously for Rollo.

‘Where’s that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him tied up?’

‘The animal is no longer here, sir. His lordship gave him to the porter, who sold him. His lordship took a prejudice against the animal on account of being bitten by him in the calf of the leg.’

I don’t think I’ve ever been so bucked by a bit of news. I felt I had misjudged Rollo.

Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a lot of good in him.

‘Fine!’ I said. ‘Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘Do you expect him back to dinner?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘Where is he?’ ‘In prison, sir.’ ‘In prison!’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘You don’t mean — in prison?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ I lowered myself into a chair. ‘Why?’ I said. ‘He assaulted a constable, sir.’ ‘Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!’ ‘Yes, sir.’ I digested this. ‘But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!’ ‘Sir?’ ‘What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?’

‘I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir.’

‘But she’ll come back and want to know where he is.’

‘I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship’s bit of time will have run out by then.’ ‘But supposing it hasn’t?’ ‘In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricat­e a little.’ ‘How?’ ‘If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston.’ ‘Why Boston?’ ‘Very interestin­g and respectabl­e centre, sir.’ ‘Jeeves, I believe you’ve hit it.’ ‘I fancy so, sir.’ ‘Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this hadn’t turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back.’ ‘Exactly, sir.’ The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but after all, I reflected, a fellow who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn’t have much to kick at in a prison.

Altogether, I began to feel absol u t e l y braced again. Life became like what the poet Johnnie says — one grand, sweet song. Things went on so comfortabl­y and peacefully for a couple of weeks that I give you my word that I’d almost forgotten such a person as Motty existed.

The only flaw in the scheme of things was that Jeeves was still pained and distant. It wasn’t anything he said, or did, mind you, but there was a rummy something about him all the time.

Once when I was tying the pink tie I caught sight of him in the looking-glass. There was a kind of grieved look in his eye.

And then Lady Malvern came back, a good bit ahead of schedule. I hadn’t been expecting her for days. I’d forgotten how time had been slipping along. She turned up one morning while I was still in bed sipping tea and thinking of this and that. Jeeves flowed in with the announceme­nt that he had just loosed her into the sitting-room. I draped a few garments round me and went in.

There she was, sitting in the same armchair, looking as massive as ever. The only difference was that she didn’t uncover the teeth as she had done the first time. ‘Good morning,’ I said. ‘So you’ve got back, what?’ ‘I have got back.’ There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had swallowed an east wind.

This I took to be due to the fact that she probably hadn’t breakfaste­d. It’s only after a bit of breakfast that I’m able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a fellow the universal favourite.

I’m never much of a lad till I’ve engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee.

‘I suppose you haven’t breakfaste­d?’ ‘I have not yet breakfaste­d.’ ‘Won’t you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or something?’ ‘No, thank you.’ She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for the suppressio­n of eggs. There was a bit of a silence.

‘I called on you last night,’ she said, ‘but you were out.’

‘Awfully sorry. Had a pleasant trip?’ ‘Extremely, thank you.’ ‘See everything? Niagara Falls, Yellowston­e Park, and the jolly old Grand Canyon, and what-not?’ ‘I saw a great deal.’ There was another slightly frappe’ silence. Jeeves floated silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast table.

‘I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr Wooster?’ I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty. ‘Rather not! Great pals. Hit it off splendidly.’ ‘You were his constant companion, then?’

‘Absolutely. We were always together. Saw all the sights, don’t you know. We’d take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We usually played dominoes after dinner. And then the early bed and the refreshing sleep. We had a great time. I was awfully sorry when he went away to Boston.’ ‘Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?’ ‘Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of course we didn’t know where you were. You were dodging all over the place like a snipe — I mean, don’t you know, dodging all over the place, and we couldn’t get at you. Yes, Motty went off to Boston.’

‘You’re sure he went to Boston?’

‘Oh, absolutely.’ I called out to Jeeves, who was now messing about in the next room with forks and so forth: ‘Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn’t change his mind about going to Boston, did he?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘I thought I was right. Yes, Motty went to Boston.’

‘Then how do you account, Mr Wooster, for the fact that when I went yesterday afternoon to Blackwell’s Island prison, to secure material for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, dressed in a striped suit, seated

beside a pile of stones with a hammer in his hands?’

I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. A fellow has to be a lot broader about the forehead than I am to handle a jolt like this. I strained the old bean till it creaked, but between the collar and the hair parting nothing stirred.

I was dumb. Which was lucky, because I wouldn’t have had a chance to get any persiflage out of my system. Lady Malvern collared the conversati­on. She had been bottling it up, and now it came out with a rush.

‘So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr Wooster! So this is how you have abused my trust! I left him in your charge, thinking that I could rely on you to shield him from evil. He came to you innocent, unversed in the ways of the world, confiding, unused to the temptation­s of a large city, and you led him astray!’

I hadn’t any remarks to make. All I could think of was the picture of Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the hatchet against my return. ‘You deliberate­ly . . .’ Far away in the misty distance a soft voice spoke. ‘If I might explain, your ladyship.’

Jeeves had projected himself in from the dining-room and materialis­ed on the rug. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can’t do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof.

‘I fancy, your ladyship, that you may have misunderst­ood Mr Wooster, and that he may have given you the impression that he was in New York when his lordship was — removed. When Mr Wooster informed your ladyship that his lordship had gone to Boston, he was relying on the version I had given him of his lordship’s movements. Mr Wooster was away, visiting a friend in the country, at the time, and knew nothing of the matter till your ladyship informed him.’

Lady Malvern gave a kind of grunt. It didn’t rattle Jeeves.

‘I feared Mr Wooster might be disturbed if he knew the truth, as he is so attached to his lordship and has taken such pains to look after him, so I took the liberty of telling him that his lordship had gone away for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr Wooster to believe that his lordship had gone to prison voluntaril­y and from the best motives, but your ladyship, knowing him better, will readily understand.’

‘What!’ Lady Malvern goggled at him. ‘Did you say that Lord Pershore went to prison voluntaril­y?’

‘If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship’s parting words made a deep impression on his lordship. I have frequently heard him speak to Mr Wooster of his desire to do something to follow your ladyship’s instructio­ns and collect material for your ladyship’s book on America. Mr Wooster will bear me out when I say that his lordship was frequently extremely depressed at the thought that he was doing so little to help.’

‘Absolutely, by Jove! Quite pipped about it!’ I said.

‘The idea of making a personal examinatio­n into the prison system of the country — from within — occurred to his lordship very suddenly one night. He embraced it eagerly. There was no restrainin­g him.’

Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I could see her struggling with the thing.

‘Surely, your ladyship,’ said Jeeves, ‘it is more reasonable to suppose that a gentleman of his lordship’s character went to prison of his own volition than that he committed some breach of the law which necessitat­ed his arrest?’ Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up. ‘Mr Wooster,’ she said, ‘I apologise. I have done you an injustice. I should have known Wilmot better. I should have had more faith in his pure, fine spirit.’

‘Absolutely!’ I said.

‘Your breakfast is ready, sir,’ said Jeeves.

I sat down and dallied in a dazed sort of way with a poached egg. ‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘you are certainly a life-saver.’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ ‘Nothing would have convinced Aunt Agatha, that I hadn’t lured that blighter into riotous living.’ ‘I fancy you are right, sir.’ I champed my egg for a bit. I was most awfully moved, don’t you know, by the way Jeeves had rallied round. Something seemed to tell me that this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I hesitated. Then I made up my mind. ‘Jeeves!’ ‘Sir?’ ‘That pink tie.’ ‘Yes, sir?’ ‘Burn it.’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ ‘And, Jeeves.’ ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Take a taxi and get me that White House Wonder hat, as worn by President Coolidge.’ ‘Thank you very much, sir.’ I felt most awfully braced. I felt as if the clouds had rolled away and all was as it used to be. I felt like one of those chappies in the novels who calls off the fight with his wife in the last chapter and decides to forget and forgive. I felt I wanted to do all sorts of other things to show Jeeves that I appreciate­d him.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘it isn’t enough. Is there anything else you would like?’

‘Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion — fifty dollars.’ ‘Fifty dollars?’ ‘It will enable me to pay a debt of honour, sir. I owe it to his lordship.’

‘You owe Lord Pershore fifty dollars?’

‘Yes, sir. I happened to meet him in the street the night his lordship was arrested.

‘I had been thinking a good deal about the most suitable method of inducing him to abandon his mode of living, sir.

‘His lordship was a little overexcite­d at the time, and I fancy that he mistook me for a friend of his. At any rate, when I took the liberty of wagering him fifty dollars that he would not punch a passing policeman in the eye, he accepted the bet very cordially and won it.’

I produced my pocket-book and counted out a hundred. ‘Take this, Jeeves,’ I said; ‘fifty isn’t enough. Do you know, Jeeves, you’re — well, you absolutely stand alone!’

‘I endeavour to give satisfacti­on, sir,’ said Jeeves.

The estate of PG Wodehouse, 1925. Carry On Jeeves is published by Arrow, available in print and ebook. Listen to this story now at mailplus.co.uk /audiobooks

‘You are a lifesaver. Nothing would have convinced Aunt Agatha I hadn’t lured that blighter into riotous living’

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