Stiff Upper Lip Jeeves

revellers. Among other vicissitudes that he underwent, a child entangled its all-day sucker in his hair.’
    ‘That must have annoyed him. He’s fussy about his hair.’
    ‘Yes, sir, he was visibly incensed. He detached the sweetmeat and threw it from him with a good deal of force, and by ill luck it struck Miss Byng’s dog on the nose. Affronted by what he presumably mistook for an unprovoked assault, the animal bit Mr. Fink-Nottle in the leg.’
    ‘Poor old Gussie!’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Still, into each life some rain must fall.’
    ‘Precisely, sir. I will go and bring your whisky-and-soda.’
    He had scarcely gone, when Gussie blew in, limping a little but otherwise showing no signs of what Jeeves had called the vicissitudes he had undergone. He seemed, indeed, above rather than below his usual form, and I remember the phrase ‘the bulldog breed’ passed through my mind. If Gussie was a sample of young England’s stamina and fortitude, it seemed to me that the country’s future was secure. It is not every nation that can produce sons capable of grinning, as he was doing, so shortly after being bitten by Aberdeen terriers.
    ‘Oh, there you are, Bertie,’ he said. ‘Jeeves told me you were back. I looked in to borrow some cigarettes.’
    ‘Go ahead.’
    ‘Thanks,’ he said, filling his case. ‘I’m taking Emerald Stoker for a walk.’
    ‘You’re what?
    ‘Or a row on the river. Whichever she prefers.’
    ‘But, Gussie -‘
    ‘Oh, before I forget. Pinker is looking for you. He says he wants to see you about something important.’
    ‘Never mind about Stinker. You can’t take Emerald Stoker for walks.’
    ‘Can’t I? Watch me.’
    ‘But -‘
    ‘Sorry, no time to talk now. I don’t want to keep her waiting. So long, I must be off.’
    He left me plunged in thought, and not agreeable thought either. I think I have made it clear to the meanest i. that my whole future depended on Augustus Fink-Nottle sticking to the straight and narrow path and not blotting his copybook, and I could not but feel that by taking Emerald Stoker for walks he was skidding off the straight and narrow path and blotting his c. in no uncertain manner. That, at least, was, I was pretty sure, how an idealistic beazel like Madeline Bassett, already rendered hot under the collar by his subversive views on sunsets and Blessed Damozels, would regard it. It is not too much to say that when Jeeves returned with the whisky-and-s., he found me all of a twitter and shaking on my stem.
    I would have liked to put him abreast of this latest development, but, as I say, there are things we don’t discuss, so I merely drank deep of the flowing bowl and told him that Gussie had just been a pleasant visitor.
    ‘He tells me Stinker Pinker wants to see me about something.’
    ‘No doubt with reference to the episode of Sir Watkyn and the hard-boiled egg, sir.’
    ‘Don’t tell me it was Stinker who threw it.’
    ‘No, sir, the miscreant is believed to have been a lad in his early teens. But the young fellow’s impulsive action has led to unfortunate consequences. It has caused Sir Watkyn to entertain doubts as to the wisdom of entrusting a vicarage to a curate incapable of maintaining order at a school treat. Miss Byng, while confiding this information to me, appeared greatly distressed. She had supposed - I quote her verbatim - that the thing was in the bag, and she is naturally much disturbed.’
    I drained my glass and lit a moody gasper. If Totleigh Towers wanted to turn me into a cynic, it was going the right way about it.
    ‘There’s a curse on this house, Jeeves. Broken blossoms and shattered hopes wherever you look. It seems to be something in the air. The sooner we’re out of here, the better. I wonder if we couldn’t -‘
    I had been about to add ‘make our getaway tonight’, but at this moment the door flew open and Spode came bounding in, wiping the words from my lips and causing me to raise an eyebrow or two. I resented this habit he was developing of popping up out of a trap at me every other minute like a Demon King in pantomime, and only the fact that I couldn’t think of anything restrained me from saying something pretty stinging. As it was, I wore the mask and spoke with the suavity of the perfect host.
    ‘Ah, Spode. Come on in and take a few chairs,’ I said, and was on the point of telling him that we Woosters kept open house, when he interrupted me with the uncouth abruptness so characteristic of