Now that the Empire isn't the place it was, I always think the Park on a Sunday is the centre of London, if you know what I mean. I mean to say, that's the spot that makes the returned exile really sure he's back again. After what you might call my enforced sojourn2 in New York I'm bound to say that I stood there fairly lapping it all up. It did me good to listen to the lads giving tongue and realise that all had ended happily and Bertram was home again.
On the edge of the mob farthest away from me a gang of top-hatted chappies were starting an open-air missionary3 service; nearer at hand an atheist4 was letting himself go with a good deal of vim5, though handicapped a bit by having no roof to his mouth; while in front of me there stood a little group of serious thinkers with a banner labelled "Heralds6 of the Red Dawn"; and as I came up,[Pg 115] one of the heralds, a bearded egg in a slouch hat and a tweed suit, was slipping it into the Idle Rich with such breadth and vigour7 that I paused for a moment to get an earful. While I was standing8 there somebody spoke9 to me.
"Mr. Wooster, surely?"
Stout10 chappie. Couldn't place him for a second. Then I got him. Bingo Little's uncle, the one I had lunch with at the time when young Bingo was in love with that waitress at the Piccadilly bun-shop. No wonder I hadn't recognised him at first. When I had seen him last he had been a rather sloppy11 old gentleman—coming down to lunch, I remember, in carpet slippers12 and a velvet13 smoking-jacket; whereas now dapper simply wasn't the word. He absolutely gleamed in the sunlight in a silk hat, morning coat, lavender spats14 and sponge-bag trousers, as now worn. Dressy to a degree.
"Oh, hallo!" I said. "Going strong?"
"I am in excellent health, I thank you. And you?"
"In the pink. Just been over to America."
"Ah! Collecting local colour for one of your delightful15 romances?"
"Eh?" I had to think a bit before I got on to what he meant. Then I remembered the Rosie M. Banks business. "Oh, no," I said. "Just felt I needed a change. Seen anything of Bingo lately?" I asked quickly, being desirous of heading the old thing off what you might call the literary side of my life.
"Bingo?"
"Your nephew."
"Oh, Richard? No, not very recently. Since my marriage a little coolness seems to have sprung up."
"Sorry to hear that. So you've married since I saw you, what? Mrs. Little all right?"
[Pg 116]
"My wife is happily robust16. But—er—not Mrs. Little. Since we last met a gracious Sovereign has been pleased to bestow17 on me a signal mark of his favour in the shape of—ah—a peerage. On the publication of the last Honours List I became Lord Bittlesham."
"By Jove! Really? I say, heartiest18 congratulations. That's the stuff to give the troops, what? Lord Bittlesham?" I said. "Why, you're the owner of Ocean Breeze."
"Yes. Marriage has enlarged my horizon in many directions. My wife is interested in horse-racing, and I now maintain a small stable. I understand that Ocean Breeze is fancied, as I am told the expression is, for a race which will take place at the end of the month at Goodwood, the Duke of Richmond's seat in Sussex."
"The Goodwood Cup. Rather! I've got my chemise on it for one."
"Indeed? Well, I trust the animal will justify19 your confidence. I know little of these matters myself, but my wife tells me that it is regarded in knowledgeable20 circles as what I believe is termed a snip21."
At this moment I suddenly noticed that the audience was gazing in our direction with a good deal of interest, and I saw that the bearded chappie was pointing at us.
"Yes, look at them! Drink them in!" he was yelling, his voice rising above the perpetual-motion fellow's and beating the missionary service all to nothing. "There you see two typical members of the class which has down-trodden the poor for centuries. Idlers! Non-producers! Look at the tall thin one with the face like a motor-mascot. Has he ever done an honest day's work in his life? No! A prowler, a trifler, and a blood-sucker! And I bet he still owes his tailor for those trousers!"
[Pg 117]
He seemed to me to be verging23 on the personal, and I didn't think a lot of it. Old Bittlesham, on the other hand, was pleased and amused.
"And the fat one!" proceeded the chappie. "Don't miss him. Do you know who that is? That's Lord Bittlesham! One of the worst. What has he ever done except eat four square meals a day? His god is his belly26, and he sacrifices burnt-offerings to it. If you opened that man now you would find enough lunch to support ten working-class families for a week."
"You know, that's rather well put," I said, but the old boy didn't seem to see it. He had turned a brightish magenta27 and was bubbling like a kettle on the boil.
"Come away, Mr. Wooster," he said. "I am the last man to oppose the right of free speech, but I refuse to listen to this vulgar abuse any longer."
We legged it with quiet dignity, the chappie pursuing us with his foul28 innuendoes29 to the last. Dashed embarrassing.
* * * * *
Next day I looked in at the club, and found young Bingo in the smoking-room.
"Hallo, Bingo," I said, toddling30 over to his corner full of bonhomie, for I was glad to see the chump, "How's the boy?"
"Jogging along."
"I saw your uncle yesterday."
"I know you did, you trifler. Well, sit down, old thing, and suck a bit of blood. How's the prowling these days?"
[Pg 118]
"Good Lord! You weren't there!"
"Yes, I was."
"I didn't see you."
"Yes, you did. But perhaps you didn't recognise me in the shrubbery."
"The shrubbery?"
"The beard, my boy. Worth every penny I paid for it. Defies detection. Of course, it's a nuisance having people shouting 'Beaver32!' at you all the time, but one's got to put up with that."
"I don't understand."
"It's a long story. Have a martini or a small gore-and-soda, and I'll tell you all about it. Before we start, give me your honest opinion. Isn't she the most wonderful girl you ever saw in your puff34?"
He had produced a photograph from somewhere, like a conjurer taking a rabbit out of a hat, and was waving it in front of me. It appeared to be a female of sorts, all eyes and teeth.
"Oh, Great Scott!" I said. "Don't tell me you're in love again."
"What do you mean—again?"
"Well, to my certain knowledge you've been in love with at least half a dozen girls since the spring, and it's only July now. There was that waitress and Honoria Glossop and——"
"Where did you meet her?"
"On top of a bus. Her name is Charlotte Corday Rowbotham."
"My God!"
"It's not her fault, poor child. Her father had her christened that because he's all for the [Pg 119]Revolution, and it seems that the original Charlotte Corday used to go about stabbing oppressors in their baths, which entitles her to consideration and respect. You must meet old Rowbotham, Bertie. A delightful chap. Wants to massacre37 the bourgeoisie, sack Park Lane, and disembowel the hereditary38 aristocracy. Well, nothing could be fairer than that, what? But about Charlotte. We were on top of the bus, and it started to rain. I offered her my umbrella, and we chatted of this and that. I fell in love and got her address, and a couple of days later I bought the beard and toddled39 round and met the family."
"But why the beard?"
"Well, she had told me all about her father on the bus, and I saw that to get any footing at all in the home I should have to join these Red Dawn blighters; and naturally, if I was to make speeches in the Park, where at any moment I might run into a dozen people I knew, something in the nature of a disguise was indicated. So I bought the beard, and, by Jove, old boy, I've become dashed attached to the thing. When I take it off to come in here, for instance, I feel absolutely nude40. It's done me a lot of good with old Rowbotham. He thinks I'm a Bolshevist of sorts who has to go about disguised because of the police. You really must meet old Rowbotham, Bertie. I tell you what, are you doing anything to-morrow afternoon?"
"Nothing special. Why?"
"Good! Then you can have us all to tea at your flat. I had promised to take the crowd to Lyons' Popular Café after a meeting we're holding down in Lambeth, but I can save money this way; and, believe me, laddie, nowadays, as far as I'm concerned, a penny saved is a penny earned. My uncle told you he'd got married?"
[Pg 120]
"Yes. And he said there was a coolness between you."
"Coolness? I'm down to zero. Ever since he married he's been launching out in every direction and economising on me. I suppose that peerage cost the old devil the deuce of a sum. Even baronetcies have gone up frightfully nowadays, I'm told. And he's started a racing-stable. By the way, put your last collar-stud on Ocean Breeze for the Goodwood Cup. It's a cert."
"I'm going to."
"It can't lose. I mean to win enough on it to marry Charlotte with. You're going to Goodwood, of course?"
"Rather!"
"So are we. We're holding a meeting on Cup day just outside the paddock."
"But, I say, aren't you taking frightful41 risks? Your uncle's sure to be at Goodwood. Suppose he spots you? He'll be fed to the gills if he finds out that you're the fellow who ragged42 him in the Park."
"How the deuce is he to find out? Use your intelligence, you prowling inhaler of red corpuscles. If he didn't spot me yesterday, why should he spot me at Goodwood? Well, thanks for your cordial invitation for to-morrow, old thing. We shall be delighted to accept. Do us well, laddie, and blessings43 shall reward you. By the way, I may have misled you by using the word 'tea.' None of your wafer slices of bread-and-butter. We're good trenchermen, we of the Revolution. What we shall require will be something on the order of scrambled45 eggs, muffins, jam, ham, cake and sardines46. Expect us at five sharp."
"But, I say, I'm not quite sure——"
"Yes, you are. Silly ass22, don't you see that this is going to do you a bit of good when the Revolution[Pg 121] breaks loose? When you see old Rowbotham sprinting47 up Piccadilly with a dripping knife in each hand, you'll be jolly thankful to be able to remind him that he once ate your tea and shrimps48. There will be four of us—Charlotte, self, the old man, and Comrade Butt44. I suppose he will insist on coming along."
"Who the devil's Comrade Butt?"
"Did you notice a fellow standing on my left in our little troupe49 yesterday? Small, shrivelled chap. Looks like a haddock with lung-trouble. That's Butt. My rival, dash him. He's sort of semi-engaged to Charlotte at the moment. Till I came along he was the blue-eyed boy. He's got a voice like a fog-horn, and old Rowbotham thinks a lot of him. But, hang it, if I can't thoroughly50 encompass51 this Butt and cut him out and put him where he belongs among the discards—well, I'm not the man I was, that's all. He may have a big voice, but he hasn't my gift of expression. Thank heaven I was once cox of my college boat. Well, I must be pushing now. I say, you don't know how I could raise fifty quid somehow, do you?"
"Why don't you work?"
"Work?" said young Bingo, surprised. "What, me? No, I shall have to think of some way. I must put at least fifty on Ocean Breeze. Well, see you to-morrow. God bless you, old sort, and don't forget the muffins."
* * * * *
I don't know why, ever since I first knew him at school, I should have felt a rummy feeling of responsibility for young Bingo. I mean to say, he's not my son (thank goodness) or my brother or anything like that. He's got absolutely no claim on me at all, and yet a large-sized chunk52 of my existence seems[Pg 122] to be spent in fussing over him like a bally old hen and hauling him out of the soup. I suppose it must be some rare beauty in my nature or something. At any rate, this latest affair of his worried me. He seemed to be doing his best to marry into a family of pronounced loonies, and how the deuce he thought he was going to support even a mentally afflicted53 wife on nothing a year beat me. Old Bittlesham was bound to knock off his allowance if he did anything of the sort; and, with a fellow like young Bingo, if you knocked off his allowance, you might just as well hit him on the head with an axe54 and make a clean job of it.
"Jeeves," I said, when I got home, "I'm worried."
"Sir?"
"About Mr. Little. I won't tell you about it now, because he's bringing some friends of his to tea to-morrow, and then you will be able to judge for yourself. I want you to observe closely, Jeeves, and form your decision."
"Very good, sir."
"And about the tea. Get in some muffins."
"Yes, sir."
"And some jam, ham, cake, scrambled eggs, and five or six wagonloads of sardines."
"Sardines."
There was an awkward pause.
"Don't blame me, Jeeves," I said. "It isn't my fault."
"No, sir."
"Well, that's that."
"Yes, sir."
I could see the man was brooding tensely.
* * * * *
I've found, as a general rule in life, that the things[Pg 123] you think are going to be the scaliest nearly always turn out not so bad after all; but it wasn't that way with Bingo's tea-party. From the moment he invited himself I felt that the thing was going to be blue round the edges, and it was. And I think the most gruesome part of the whole affair was the fact that, for the first time since I'd known him, I saw Jeeves come very near to being rattled56. I suppose there's a chink in everyone's armour57, and young Bingo found Jeeves's right at the drop of the flag when he breezed in with six inches or so of brown beard hanging on to his chin. I had forgotten to warn Jeeves about the beard, and it came on him absolutely out of a blue sky. I saw the man's jaw58 drop, and he clutched at the table for support. I don't blame him, mind you. Few people have ever looked fouler59 than young Bingo in the fungus60. Jeeves paled a little; then the weakness passed and he was himself again. But I could see that he had been shaken.
Young Bingo was too busy introducing the mob to take much notice. They were a very C3 collection. Comrade Butt looked like one of the things that come out of dead trees after the rain; moth-eaten was the word I should have used to describe old Rowbotham; and as for Charlotte, she seemed to take me straight into another and a dreadful world. It wasn't that she was exactly bad-looking. In fact, if she had knocked off starchy foods and done Swedish exercises for a bit, she might have been quite tolerable. But there was too much of her. Billowy curves. Well-nourished, perhaps, expresses it best. And, while she may have had a heart of gold, the thing you noticed about her first was that she had a tooth of gold. I knew that young Bingo, when in form, could fall in love with practically anything of the other sex; but this time I couldn't see any excuse for him at all.
[Pg 124]
"My friend, Mr. Wooster," said Bingo, completing the ceremonial.
Old Rowbotham looked at me and then he looked round the room, and I could see he wasn't particularly braced61. There's nothing of absolutely Oriental luxury about the old flat, but I have managed to make myself fairly comfortable, and I suppose the surroundings jarred him a bit.
"Mr. Wooster?" said old Rowbotham. "May I say Comrade Wooster?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Are you of the movement?"
"Well—er——"
"Well, I don't know that I exactly yearn. I mean to say, as far as I can make out, the whole hub of the scheme seems to be to massacre coves63 like me; and I don't mind owning I'm not frightfully keen on the idea."
"But I'm talking him round," said Bingo. "I'm wrestling with him. A few more treatments ought to do the trick."
Old Rowbotham looked at me a bit doubtfully.
"Comrade Little has great eloquence," he admitted.
"I think he talks something wonderful," said the girl, and young Bingo shot a glance of such succulent devotion at her that I reeled in my tracks. It seemed to depress Comrade Butt a good deal too. He scowled64 at the carpet and said something about dancing on volcanoes.
"Tea is served, sir," said Jeeves.
"Tea, pa!" said Charlotte, starting at the word like the old war-horse who hears the bugle65; and we got down to it.
Funny how one changes as the years roll on. At school, I remember, I would cheerfully have[Pg 125] sold my soul for scrambled eggs and sardines at five in the afternoon; but somehow, since reaching man's estate, I had rather dropped out of the habit; and I'm bound to admit I was appalled66 to a goodish extent at the way the sons and daughter of the Revolution shoved their heads down and went for the foodstuffs67. Even Comrade Butt cast off his gloom for a space and immersed his whole being in scrambled eggs, only coming to the surface at intervals68 to grab another cup of tea. Presently the hot water gave out, and I turned to Jeeves.
"More hot water."
"Very good, sir."
"Hey! what's this? What's this?" Old Rowbotham had lowered his cup and was eyeing us sternly. He tapped Jeeves on the shoulder. "No servility, my lad; no servility!"
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
"Don't call me 'sir.' Call me Comrade. Do you know what you are, my lad? You're an obsolete69 relic70 of an exploded feudal71 system."
"Very good, sir."
"If there's one thing that makes the blood boil in my veins——"
"Have another sardine," chipped in young Bingo—the first sensible thing he'd done since I had known him. Old Rowbotham took three and dropped the subject, and Jeeves drifted away. I could see by the look of his back what he felt.
At last, just as I was beginning to feel that it was going on for ever, the thing finished. I woke up to find the party getting ready to leave.
Sardines and about three quarts of tea had mellowed72 old Rowbotham. There was quite a genial73 look in his eye as he shook my hand.
"I must thank you for your hospitality, Comrade Wooster," he said.
[Pg 126]
"Oh, not at all! Only too glad——"
"Hospitality?" snorted the man Butt, going off in my ear like a depth-charge. He was scowling74 in a morose75 sort of manner at young Bingo and the girl, who were giggling76 together by the window. "I wonder the food didn't turn to ashes in our mouths! Eggs! Muffins! Sardines! All wrung77 from the bleeding lips of the starving poor!"
"Oh, I say! What a beastly idea!"
"I will send you some literature on the subject of the Cause," said old Rowbotham. "And soon, I hope, we shall see you at one of our little meetings."
Jeeves came in to clear away, and found me sitting among the ruins. It was all very well for Comrade Butt to knock the food, but he had pretty well finished the ham; and if you had shoved the remainder of the jam into the bleeding lips of the starving poor it would hardly have made them sticky.
"Well, Jeeves," I said, "how about it?"
"I would prefer to express no opinion, sir."
"Jeeves, Mr. Little is in love with that female."
"So I gathered, sir. She was slapping him in the passage."
I clutched my brow.
"Slapping him?"
"Yes, sir. Roguishly."
"Great Scott! I didn't know it had got as far as that. How did Comrade Butt seem to be taking it? Or perhaps he didn't see?"
"Yes, sir, he observed the entire proceedings78. He struck me as extremely jealous."
"I don't blame him. Jeeves, what are we to do?"
"I could not say, sir."
"It's a bit thick."
"Very much so, sir."
And that was all the consolation79 I got from Jeeves.
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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atheist
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| n.无神论者 | |
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vim
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| n.精力，活力 | |
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6
heralds
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| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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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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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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heartiest
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| 亲切的( hearty的最高级 )； 热诚的； 健壮的； 精神饱满的 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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knowledgeable
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| adj.知识渊博的；有见识的 | |
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snip
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| n.便宜货，廉价货，剪，剪断 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trenchant
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| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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innuendoes
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| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
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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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unleashed
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| v.把（感情、力量等）释放出来，发泄( unleash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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goggled
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| adj.戴护目镜的v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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puff
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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toddled
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的过去式和过去分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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42
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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sprinting
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的现在分词 ) | |
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shrimps
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| n.虾，小虾( shrimp的名词复数 )；矮小的人 | |
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troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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51
encompass
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| vt.围绕，包围；包含，包括；完成 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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fouler
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| adj.恶劣的( foul的比较级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
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fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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61
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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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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coves
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| n.小海湾( cove的名词复数 )；家伙 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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foodstuffs
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| 食物，食品( foodstuff的名词复数 ) | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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