Mark you, all the above is what you might call the result of my riper experience. I don't mind admitting that in the first flush of the thing, so, to speak, when Jeeves told me—this would be about three weeks after I'd landed in America—that a blighter called Cyril Bassington-Bassington had arrived and I found that he had brought a letter of introduction to me from Aunt Agatha ... where was I? Oh, yes ... I don't mind admitting, I was saying, that just at first I was rather[Pg 89] bucked6. You see, after the painful events which had resulted in my leaving England I hadn't expected to get any sort of letter from Aunt Agatha which would pass the censor7, so to speak. And it was a pleasant surprise to open this one and find it almost civil. Chilly8, perhaps, in parts, but on the whole quite tolerably polite. I looked on the thing as a hopeful sign. Sort of olive-branch, you know. Or do I mean orange blossom? What I'm getting at is that the fact that Aunt Agatha was writing to me without calling me names seemed, more or less, like a step in the direction of peace.
And I was all for peace, and that right speedily. I'm not saying a word against New York, mind you. I liked the place, and was having quite a ripe time there. But the fact remains9 that a fellow who's been used to London all his life does get a trifle homesick on a foreign strand10, and I wanted to pop back to the cosy11 old flat in Berkeley Street—which could only be done when Aunt Agatha had simmered down and got over the Glossop episode. I know that London is a biggish city, but, believe me, it isn't half big enough for any fellow to live in with Aunt Agatha when she's after him with the old hatchet12. And so I'm bound to say I looked on this chump Bassington-Bassington, when he arrived, more or less as a Dove of Peace, and was all for him.
He would seem from contemporary accounts to have blown in one morning at seven-forty-five, that being the ghastly sort of hour they shoot you off the liner in New York. He was given the respectful raspberry by Jeeves, and told to try again about three hours later, when there would be a sporting chance of my having sprung from my bed with a glad cry to welcome another day and all that sort of thing. Which was rather decent of Jeeves, by the way, for it so happened that there was a slight[Pg 90] estrangement13, a touch of coldness, a bit of a row in other words, between us at the moment because of some rather priceless purple socks which I was wearing against his wishes: and a lesser14 man might easily have snatched at the chance of getting back at me a bit by loosing Cyril into my bedchamber at a moment when I couldn't have stood a two-minutes' conversation with my dearest pal15. For until I have had my early cup of tea and have brooded on life for a bit absolutely undisturbed, I'm not much of a lad for the merry chit-chat.
So Jeeves very sportingly shot Cyril out into the crisp morning air, and didn't let me know of his existence till he brought his card in with the Bohea.
"And what might all this be, Jeeves?" I said, giving the thing the glassy gaze.
"The gentleman has arrived from England, I understand, sir. He called to see you earlier in the day."
"Good Lord, Jeeves! You don't mean to say the day starts earlier than this?"
"He desired me to say he would return later, sir."
"I've never heard of him. Have you ever heard of him, Jeeves?"
"I am familiar with the name Bassington-Bassington, sir. There are three branches of the Bassington-Bassington family—the Shropshire Bassington-Bassingtons, the Hampshire Bassington-Bassingtons, and the Kent Bassington-Bassingtons."
"England seems pretty well stocked up with Bassington-Bassingtons."
"Tolerably so, sir."
"No chance of a sudden shortage, I mean, what?"
"Presumably not, sir."
[Pg 91]
"I could not say, sir, on such short acquaintance."
"Will you give me a sporting two to one, Jeeves, judging from what you have seen of him, that this chappie is not a blighter or an excrescence?"
"I knew it. Well, the only thing that remains to be discovered is what kind of a blighter he is."
"Time will tell, sir. The gentleman brought a letter for you, sir."
"Oh, he did, did he?" I said, and grasped the communication. And then I recognised the handwriting. "I say, Jeeves, this is from my Aunt Agatha!"
"Indeed, sir?"
"Don't dismiss it in that light way. Don't you see what this means? She says she wants me to look after this excrescence while he's in New York. By Jove, Jeeves, if I only fawn18 on him a bit, so that he sends back a favourable19 report to head-quarters, I may yet be able to get back to England in time for Goodwood. Now is certainly the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party, Jeeves. We must rally round and cosset20 this cove in no uncertain manner."
"Yes, sir."
"He isn't going to stay in New York long," I said, taking another look at the letter. "He's headed for Washington. Going to give the nibs21 there the once-over, apparently22, before taking a whirl at the Diplomatic Service. I should say that we can win this lad's esteem23 and affection with a lunch and a couple of dinners, what?"
"This is the jolliest thing that's happened since we left England. It looks to me as if the sun were breaking through the clouds."
[Pg 92]
"Very possibly, sir."
He started to put out my things, and there was an awkward sort of silence.
"Not those socks, Jeeves," I said, gulping25 a bit but having a dash at the careless, off-hand tone. "Give me the purple ones."
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
"Those jolly purple ones."
"Very good, sir."
He lugged26 them out of the drawer as if he were a vegetarian27 fishing a caterpillar28 out of the salad. You could see he was feeling deeply. Deuced painful and all that, this sort of thing, but a chappie has got to assert himself every now and then. Absolutely.
* * * * *
I was looking for Cyril to show up again any time after breakfast, but he didn't appear: so towards one o'clock I trickled29 out to the Lambs Club, where I had an appointment to feed the Wooster face with a cove of the name of Caffyn I'd got pally with since my arrival—George Caffyn, a fellow who wrote plays and what not. I'd made a lot of friends during my stay in New York, the city being crammed30 with bonhomous lads who one and all extended a welcoming hand to the stranger in their midst.
Caffyn was a bit late, but bobbed up finally, saying that he had been kept at a rehearsal31 of his new musical comedy, "Ask Dad"; and we started in. We had just reached the coffee, when the waiter came up and said that Jeeves wanted to see me.
Jeeves was in the waiting-room. He gave the socks one pained look as I came in, then averted32 his eyes.
[Pg 93]
"Mr. Bassington-Bassington has just telephoned, sir."
"Oh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where is he?"
"In prison, sir."
I reeled against the wallpaper. A nice thing to happen to Aunt Agatha's nominee33 on his first morning under my wing, I did not think!
"In prison!"
"Yes, sir. He said on the telephone that he had been arrested and would be glad if you could step round and bail34 him out."
"Arrested! What for?"
"He did not favour me with his confidence in that respect, sir."
"This is a bit thick, Jeeves."
I collected old George, who very decently volunteered to stagger along with me, and we hopped36 into a taxi. We sat around at the police-station for a bit on a wooden bench in a sort of ante-room, and presently a policeman appeared, leading in Cyril.
"Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!" I said. "What?"
My experience is that a fellow never really looks his best just after he's come out of a cell. When I was up at Oxford37, I used to have a regular job bailing38 out a pal of mine who never failed to get pinched every Boat-Race night, and he always looked like something that had been dug up by the roots. Cyril was in pretty much the same sort of shape. He had a black eye and a torn collar, and altogether was nothing to write home about—especially if one was writing to Aunt Agatha. He was a thin, tall chappie with a lot of light hair and pale-blue goggly eyes which made him look like one of the rarer kinds of fish.
[Pg 94]
"I got your message," I said.
"Oh, are you Bertie Wooster?"
"Absolutely. And this is my pal George Caffyn. Writes plays and what not, don't you know."
We all shook hands, and the policeman, having retrieved39 a piece of chewing-gum from the underside of a chair, where he had parked it against a rainy day, went off into a corner and began to contemplate40 the infinite.
"This is a rotten country," said Cyril.
"Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know!" I said.
"We do our best," said George.
"Old George is an American," I explained. "Writes plays, don't you know, and what not."
"Of course, I didn't invent the country," said George. "That was Columbus. But I shall be delighted to consider any improvements you may suggest and lay them before the proper authorities."
"Well, why don't the policemen in New York dress properly?"
George took a look at the chewing officer across the room.
"I don't see anything missing," he said.
"I mean to say, why don't they wear helmets like they do in London? Why do they look like postmen? It isn't fair on a fellow. Makes it dashed confusing. I was simply standing41 on the pavement, looking at things, when a fellow who looked like a postman prodded42 me in the ribs43 with a club. I didn't see why I should have postmen prodding44 me. Why the dickens should a fellow come three thousand miles to be prodded by postmen?"
"The point is well taken," said George. "What did you do?"
"I gave him a shove, you know. I've got a[Pg 95] frightfully hasty temper, you know. All the Bassington-Bassingtons have got frightfully hasty tempers, don't you know! And then he biffed me in the eye and lugged me off to this beastly place."
"I'll fix it, old son," I said. And I hauled out the bank-roll and went off to open negotiations45, leaving Cyril to talk to George. I don't mind admitting that I was a bit perturbed46. There were furrows47 in the old brow, and I had a kind of foreboding feeling. As long as this chump stayed in New York, I was responsible for him: and he didn't give me the impression of being the species of cove a reasonable chappie would care to be responsible for for more than about three minutes.
I mused48 with a considerable amount of tensity over Cyril that night, when I had got home and Jeeves had brought me the final whisky. I couldn't help feeling that this visit of his to America was going to be one of those times that try men's souls and what not. I hauled out Aunt Agatha's letter of introduction and re-read it, and there was no getting away from the fact that she undoubtedly49 appeared to be somewhat wrapped up in this blighter and to consider it my mission in life to shield him from harm while on the premises50. I was deuced thankful that he had taken such a liking51 for George Caffyn, old George being a steady sort of cove. After I had got him out of his dungeon-cell, he and old George had gone off together, as chummy as brothers, to watch the afternoon rehearsal of "Ask Dad." There was some talk, I gathered, of their dining together. I felt pretty easy in my mind while George had his eye on him.
I had got about as far as this in my meditations52, when Jeeves came in with a telegram. At least, it wasn't a telegram: it was a cable—from Aunt Agatha, and this is what it said:—
[Pg 96]
Has Cyril Bassington-Bassington called yet? On no account introduce him into theatrical53 circles. Vitally important. Letter follows.
I read it a couple of times.
"This is rummy, Jeeves!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Very rummy and dashed disturbing!"
"Will there be anything further to-night, sir?"
Of course, if he was going to be as bally unsympathetic as that there was nothing to be done My idea had been to show him the cable and ask his advice. But if he was letting those purple socks rankle54 to that extent, the good old noblesse oblige of the Woosters couldn't lower itself to the extent of pleading with the man. Absolutely not. So I gave it a miss.
"Nothing more, thanks."
"Good night, sir."
"Good night."
He floated away, and I sat down to think the thing over. I had been directing the best efforts of the old bean to the problem for a matter of half an hour, when there was a ring at the bell. I went to the door, and there was Cyril, looking pretty festive55.
"I'll come in for a bit if I may," he said. "Got something rather priceless to tell you."
He curveted past me into the sitting-room56, and when I got there after shutting the front door I found him reading Aunt Agatha's cable and giggling57 in a rummy sort of manner. "Oughtn't to have looked at this, I suppose. Caught sight of my name and read it without thinking. I say, Wooster, old friend of my youth, this is rather funny. Do you mind if I have a drink? Thanks awfully58 and all that sort of rot. Yes, it's rather funny, considering what I came[Pg 97] to tell you. Jolly old Caffyn has given me a small part in that musical comedy of his, 'Ask Dad.' Only a bit, you know, but quite tolerably ripe. I'm feeling frightfully braced59, don't you know!"
He drank his drink, and went on. He didn't seem to notice that I wasn't jumping about the room, yapping with joy.
"You know, I've always wanted to go on the stage, you know," he said. "But my jolly old guv'nor wouldn't stick it at any price. Put the old Waukeesi down with a bang, and turned bright purple whenever the subject was mentioned. That's the real reason why I came over here, if you want to know. I knew there wasn't a chance of my being able to work this stage wheeze60 in London without somebody getting on to it and tipping off the guv'nor, so I rather brainily sprang the scheme of popping over to Washington to broaden my mind. There's nobody to interfere61 on this side, you see, so I can go right ahead!"
I tried to reason with the poor chump.
"But your guv'nor will have to know some time."
"That'll be all right. I shall be the jolly old star by then, and he won't have a leg to stand on."
"It seems to me he'll have one leg to stand on while he kicks me with the other."
"Why, where do you come in? What have you got to do with it?"
"I introduced you to George Caffyn."
"So you did, old top, so you did. I'd quite forgotten. I ought to have thanked you before. Well, so long. There's an early rehearsal of 'Ask Dad' to-morrow morning, and I must be toddling62. Rummy the thing should be called 'Ask Dad,' when that's just what I'm not going to do. See what I mean, what, what? Well, pip-pip!"
[Pg 98]
"Toodle-oo!" I said sadly, and the blighter scudded63 off. I dived for the phone and called up George Caffyn.
"I say, George, what's all this about Cyril Bassington-Bassington?"
"What about him?"
"He tells me you've given him a part in your show."
"Oh, yes. Just a few lines."
"But I've just had fifty-seven cables from home telling me on no account to let him go on the stage."
"I'm sorry. But Cyril is just the type I need for that part. He's simply got to be himself."
"It's pretty tough on me, George, old man. My Aunt Agatha sent this blighter over with a letter of introduction to me, and she will hold me responsible."
"She'll cut you out of her will?"
"It isn't a question of money. But—of course, you've never met my Aunt Agatha, so it's rather hard to explain. But she's a sort of human vampire-bat, and she'll make things most fearfully unpleasant for me when I go back to England. She's the kind of woman who comes and rags you before breakfast, don't you know."
"Well, don't go back to England, then. Stick here and become President."
"But, George, old top——!"
"Good night!"
"But, I say, George, old man!"
"You didn't get my last remark. It was 'Good night!' You Idle Rich may not need any sleep, but I've got to be bright and fresh in the morning. God bless you!"
I felt as if I hadn't a friend in the world. I was so jolly well worked up that I went and banged on Jeeves's door. It wasn't a thing I'd have cared to do as a rule, but it seemed to me that now was[Pg 99] the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party, so to speak, and that it was up to Jeeves to rally round the young master, even if it broke up his beauty-sleep.
Jeeves emerged in a brown dressing-gown.
"Sir?"
"Deuced sorry to wake you up, Jeeves, and what not, but all sorts of dashed disturbing things have been happening."
"I was not asleep. It is my practice, on retiring, to read a few pages of some instructive book."
"That's good! What I mean to say is, if you've just finished exercising the old bean, it's probably in mid-season form for tackling problems. Jeeves, Mr. Bassington-Bassington is going on the stage!"
"Indeed, sir?"
"Ah! The thing doesn't hit you! You don't get it properly! Here's the point. All his family are most fearfully dead against his going on the stage. There's going to be no end of trouble if he isn't headed off. And, what's worse, my Aunt Agatha will blame me, you see."
"I see, sir."
"Well, can't you think of some way of stopping him?"
"Not, I confess, at the moment, sir."
"Well, have a stab at it."
"I will give the matter my best consideration, sir. Will there be anything further to-night?"
"I hope not! I've had all I can stand already."
"Very good, sir."
He popped off.
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1
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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lugging
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| 超载运转能力 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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8
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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estrangement
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| n.疏远，失和，不和 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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fawn
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| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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cosset
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| v.宠爱，溺爱 | |
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nibs
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| 上司，大人物； 钢笔尖，鹅毛管笔笔尖( nib的名词复数 )； 可可豆的碎粒； 小瑕疵 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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lugged
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| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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vegetarian
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| n.素食者；adj.素食的 | |
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caterpillar
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| n.毛虫，蝴蝶的幼虫 | |
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trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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nominee
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| n.被提名者；被任命者；被推荐者 | |
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bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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bailing
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| （凿井时用吊桶）排水 | |
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retrieved
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| v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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51
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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52
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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53
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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54
rankle
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| v.（怨恨，失望等）难以释怀 | |
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55
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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56
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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57
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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58
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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59
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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60
wheeze
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| n.喘息声，气喘声；v.喘息着说 | |
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61
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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62
toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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63
scudded
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| v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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