We offer P. G. Wodehouse's books here for free download in pdf and prc format - just what's needed for students searching for quotes. My Man Jeeves P. G. Right Ho, Jeeves P. G. Index of The Project Gutenberg Works of Pelham Grenville Wodehouse downloads. Wodehouse, an English humorist who contributed to the literary world in many forms such as novels, poems, plays, short stories and lyrics. Right Ho, Jeeves has Wodehouse popular characters Jeeves, Bertie Wooster, and Aunt Dahlia Traver.. Wodehouse, remembered for his novels such as.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Hindi|
|Genre:||Science & Research|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Register to download]|
P.G. Wodehouse ebooks: read or download for free. formatTheodore Dreiser11 books in djvu formatWilkie Collins57 books in pdf formatHenri Bergson6 books. P. G. WODEHOUSE old salts who patronized the Excelsior. She was a formidable influ- ence in that little community of sailormen. “That's just how I found him,”. P.G. WODEHOUSE. ANOTHER day had dawned all hot and fresh and, in pursuance of my unswerving policy at that time, I was singing 'Sonny Boy' in my bath.
Of course he may have been brooding because he had just heard that a pal of his in Moscow had been liquidated that morning. It was a great relief to me that I had a watertight explanation.
His spirits were plainly at their lowest ebb. It seemed that there was something about me that aroused the baser passions in men who were eight feet tall and six across. I was there because I had come to the wrong house. After I had done so there was a long silence. I am only here to help. He looked at me as I entered in a manner which made me realize how little chance there was of our exchanging presents at Christmas. Eventually he spoke. I gave it with a winning frankness which I felt could scarcely fail to bring home the bacon.
His eye as I approached was what I have heard described as lacklustre. It suggests an intimacy. He went on brooding but now not so much like Jack the Ripper getting up steam for his next murder. I shall be going for a walk. Take your time. He was not. Girls I hardly know confide in me. More like a snake who goes about the place robbing men of the women they love. Have you ever kissed the woman I love. Capital exercise.
Then to my relief he changed the subject. Just had time to say you were like a knight in shining armour riding up on a white horse and to tell me to tell you to show up at my address tomorrow at three on the dot. What sent him there? Big fellow with a clipped moustache. Did she make a long stay at your cottage?
They look upon me as a father figure. Any girl who takes you for a father figure ought to have her head examined. Bring the roses to your cheeks.
In and out like a flash. They tell me there are beauty spots around here well worth seeing. Just the thing to do. They know their secrets are safe with good old Bertie.
I to go back and tell Vanessa that the pourparlers had been completed and that he would be at the starting post at three pip-emma on the morrow. A meeting has been arranged and will shortly take place. During your absence the situation has become clarified.
He seemed a shade perturbed. Jeeves came shimmering in shortly after she had left. It was a little difficult to answer this. And on this cordial note we parted. I responded suavely: The street outside was as usual. They had sounded like a secret code. She suddenly became all conspiratorial. Not much of it. Like all village lending libraries.
The sight of me appeared to displease her. I went in. She clutched my arm and lowering her voice to a sinister whisper. I had come away rather short of reading matter. Murgatroyd would be if he could see me. I had not yet read that opus. I walked down it and had a look at the Jubilee watering-trough and was walking back on the other side.
A few centenarians were dotted about. Eventually I found speech. I like to think of myself as a polished man of the world who can kid back and forth with a pretty girl as well as the next chap. Her behaviour on seeing me was peculiar. But of course one has to give him time for a job like that. To be on the safe side I gave Orlo and Vanessa about an hour and a half. She seemed to feel that her question had been answered. Has who? Brought what? I called Jeeves in. His presence choked the personable wench off from further revelations.
It is always difficult to estimate the time two sundered hearts. Both had legged it. And after a few desultory exchanges I left them and resumed my walk.
Her manner changed completely. I thought lovers generally whispered. The more I brooded on it. Porter have their conference all right? Porter to demand an interview with her father. I gathered from your account of your visit to Eggesford Court that he is a gentleman of somewhat formidable personality.
Look him in the eye and thump the table. I know about that. I know it begins with pu. Go on telling me all. I must begin by explaining that Mr. Cook you could certify him as mentally unbalanced and ship him off to the nearest home for the insane — or loony-bin. Cook in various commercial enterprises.
I read the book. Porter by his late uncle. Ever hear of Captain Bligh of the Bounty? Porter is in no position to marry. Cook releases this money Mr. Cook is trustee for a sum of money left to Mr. I heard her say. Porter told me. Miss Cook was urging Mr. The door happened to be ajar. Did they have an argument?
He talked me into it. I gathered that his present occupation is not generously paid. You can face a man with fortitude if he has simply got the disposition of a dyspeptic rattlesnake and confines himself to coarse abuse. It was a miracle that I escaped from Eggesford Court with my trouser seat unscathed. But go on. Marshal them all you want. I thought. Rem acu tetigisti. What cat? You had only to think of my Aunt Agatha and spouse to realize the truth of this.
At the end of that period he resumed his blow-by-blow report of the dust-up between Vanessa Cook and O. The female of the species is more deadly than the male. Porter to purloin it. Female of species deadlier than male. A quotation. His refusal to do as Miss Cook asked was unequivocal. Cook and thump tables that Miss Cook introduced the cat into the conversation.
One aims at coherence. Ever hear of Jack the Ripper? What happened then? Briscoe had given me a mystery to chew on.
No doubt I had interrupted him just as Spinoza was on the point of solving the mystery of the headless body on the library floor. Porter of being a lily-livered poltroon. To a man of sensibility there is always something sort of sad about young love coming a stinker on the rocks.
Those cryptic words of Angelica Briscoe had shaken me. She accused Mr. I was beginning to get one now. By speaking in riddles. The front door was open. Her whole demeanour was that of a girl whose emotional nature had been stirred up as if a cyclone had hit it.
The cheeks were flushed. She bore traces of the recent set-to. I mentioned this to Jeeves. I know very little of you. I found speech. I am quite content with you.
I am perfectly satisfied with you. I think I shall call you Harold. Is any man safe. And it may have to be even quieter than that. For one thing. Smoking is just a habit. You have many faults. You were mistaken. By the way. It all depends on Father. That will be perfectly all right with me.
But marry him? What an idea! Certainly she had given no indication that she would not prefer to be dead in a ditch rather than married to me. I suppose many people would say I was being rash. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to read his name in The Times obituary column.
No wonder words failed me. I do dislike that name Bertie. Would any girl with an ounce of sense marry a man who refuses to do the least little thing she asks him because he is afraid of her father? I shall always be glad to see Orlo Porter fall downstairs and break his neck. And now this. I shall be pointing some of them out when I am at leisure. The glitter of her eyes was practically switched off. The thing had come on me as such a complete surprise. You must give that up when we are married.
If he persists in this attitude. The name appeared to have touched an exposed nerve. Getting the thing off her chest seemed to have done her good. And one knew what happened to people. Vanessa followed her with an indulgent eye.
If I were employed in the post office. Lord Chesterfield said that since he had had the full use of his reason nobody had ever heard him laugh. I agreed that Angelica Briscoe moved in a mysterious way her wonders to perform. I was doing this. If you are amused. The next moment. Then she saw Vanessa. For all I knew. I told him to bring it here. He said he was a snip and putting a large bet on him would be like finding money in the street.
Experience over the years ought to have taught me that where this aunt was concerned anything went and the sky was the limit. If I lost. It was only after I got here and canvassed local opinion that I realized that Simla was not a snip or anything like a snip.
I wagered everything I possessed. Naturally aware that her goings-on required a bit of explanation. I was dumbfounded. Change that to considerably more than I possessed. And then you came along with your special information about Potato Chip not being able to keep his mind on the race without this cat there to egg him on. When the aged relative collars the conversation.
And I. I gave her a look which I suppose no nephew should have given an aunt. She started off at m. You can picture my state of mind. He is particularly well situated to carry out operations at the Court.
Graham should have thought that that was the sort of activity Mr. She told him about our anxiety. I think I would have had a nervous breakdown. The suspense was so terrific. All the gamekeepers for miles around have been trying for years to catch him with the goods.
Her face lighting up and her eyes sparkling. You see. It is estimated that seventy-six point eight per cent of the beer sold in the Goose and Grasshopper is bought by haggard gamekeepers trying to drown their sorrows after being baffled by Billy.
I tried to reason with her. The name was familiar to me. I have this on the authority of Angelica. I would have thought by this time you would have asked her to marry you. She said: I told her about the cat and she was enthusiastically in favour of stealing it. Her scheme of engaging the services of a hired bravo who would probably blackmail her for the rest of her life shook me to the core. I believe the old relative was sylphlike in her youth.
As for Angelica Briscoe. Angelica Briscoe. Graham would rather have frowned on. I mentioned this to the old ancestor. I should have thought that that was the sort of activity Mr. There were moments when only my iron will kept me from shooting up to the ceiling. I had a long talk with her after you had left. And nothing could blacken my reputation in Maiden Eggesford.
I gave him a look. No hard feelings on either side. Entertain the cat when it arrives. He showed a proper feeling in that. I had them rolling in the aisles. If you think that caused the blush of shame to mantle her cheek. I tried again: More genuine excitement.
Three encores. He had his arms full. Jeeves entered. A few moments ago. A couple of years ago Jimmy had a horse called Poonah running at Bridmouth. The Woosters never give up. A little finesse from time to time is taken for granted. Of course Jimmy guessed what had happened. I like my turf impure. His first move will be to give you away. I gather that it is rather the Bohemian type and probably prefers whisky. He came in fifth. This was no time for beating about the bush.
But an unpleasant scandal would inevitably result. I want to think. I needed his advice. He has gone to the Goose and Grasshopper. Leave me.
You know how he is after the mildest lobster. I had the advantage of hearing Mrs. The problem that confronts us now is where do we go from here? She is a lady with a very carrying voice. The honour of the Woosters is at stake. We must return this cat to Cook. I believe that when hunting in her younger days she could make herself heard in several adjoining counties.
You could go in the car. You did not purloin the cat. I gave my problem the cream of the Wooster brain for some time. Courageous though the Woosters are. I was still thinking when there was a cheery cry from without and the blood froze in my veins as Plank came bounding in.
Left alone. Would a whisky and soda be of assistance? I might quite have enjoyed this little get-together.
He pulls the whole side together. Macbeth took it big. As I explained earlier. Wrapped in mist at the moment. I goggled at him as he would have goggled at a scorpion or tarantula or whatever they have in Africa if on going to bed one night he had found it nestling in his pyjamas. But in the middle of one of his best stories — he had just got to where the natives seemed friendly.
This one had struck me during our brief acquaintance as the taciturn type. The dullest eye could have perceived the delicacy of my position. Plank was very merry and bright.
I remember my Aunt Agatha once making me take her revolting son. And a single mew would be enough to plunge me in the soup. For he was an entertaining companion.
Thos slept throughout. I never had another bearer like the puma chap. He was the one I was telling you we had to bury before sundown. Fast as a streak and never failed to give the reverse pass.
I laughed a light laugh. He imitates cats. They used to come flocking round the camp in dozens. I suppose. How are those spots of yours? Plenty of fellows who could do you a passable screech owl. Jimpson Murgatroyd the boy. Which reminds me. But I preserved my poise.
He scored two tries against Bedford. I had a native bearer once who could imitate the mating call of the male puma. That man of yours certainly makes it lifelike.
He talked of calling Scotland Yard in. Could it have been a nickname of some sort? And when I say the possibility. He is closely allied to Pop Cook. I told him you were a cat-imitator brushing up your cat-imitating. But what of Pop Cook? No sooner had he beetled off than I was calling Jeeves in for a conference.
And I caught him with the cat actually on his person. Are you still resolved not to return this cat to status quo? I trust they were not overheard by your visitor. I doubt it. When he came. He learns that I am lunching at Eggesford Hall. I only stopped by to tell you about the remarkable improvement in my memory.
A slight wiggling of the nose showed that. He finds me up at Eggesford Court apparently swiping the cat. Plank heard those yowls. Cats will be cats. He seemed to think he had let the young master down. Figure it out for yourself. But I must be getting along. His comment on my obiter dicta was brief and to the point. I was taken aback at the moment. He will be at my door in ten seconds flat. I mean the certainty.
I thought how wise Jeeves had been in suggesting that I entrust to him the delicate mission which I had in mind. The first thing that impressed itself on me as I gave him the once over was his air of respectability. With your permission I will go to the Goose and Grasshopper and tell him that you wish to see him. His eyes were frank and blue. I had always supposed that poachers were tough-looking eggs who wore whatever they could borrow from the nearest scarecrow and shaved only once a week.
No sense in humming or. I never thought of that. His experience enables him to move around without letting a twig snap beneath his feet. But if I might make a suggestion. The old ancestor had compared him to the Scarlet Pimpernel.
When it comes to returning cats that have been snitched from their lawful homes. He was about the height and tonnage of Fred Astaire. Where Lloyd George or Winston Churchill would have failed. I knew would succeed. I have seen more raffish Cabinet ministers. One could readily imagine him flitting silently through the undergrowth with a couple of rabbits in his grasp.
I think I outlined the position of affairs rather well. When Angelica Briscoe had come to him. It would have to be a ready-money transaction. She had said. Angelica had then touched Aunt Dahlia for ten and the deal had gone through. Plainly that stuff about personal favours to sweet children had been the merest bobbledygook.
Give it a name. You purloined it. All that remained was to arrange terms. He had evidently had a good education. There was not much chance. You are overlooking certain vital facts. He had been actuated throughout entirely by commercial motives.
I said it because the scales had fallen from my eyes and I saw all. I have often thought I would have made a good detective.
Fellows at the Drones have told me they notice the same thing in Oofy Prosser. But when I had finished. I can reason and deduce. It will be perfectly simple for you to intercept the manuscript, Bertie. It only requires a little resolution. He'd cut me off with a bob.
Rather not! The parcel containing the manuscript will, of course, be placed on the hall table tomorrow for Oakshott to take to the village with the letters. All you have to do is to take it away and destroy it. Then your uncle will think it has been lost in the post. He is sending the manuscript just as he wrote it.
Once and for all, will you do me this quite simple act of kindness? Keep it in the family, kind of, don't you know. Besides, it would be a boon to the kid. Edwin was her young brother, who was spending his holidays at Easeby. He was a ferret-faced kid, whom I had disliked since birth. As a matter of fact, talking of Recollections and Memories, it was young blighted Edwin who, nine years before, had led his father to where I was smoking his cigar and caused all the unpleasantness.
He was fourteen now and had just joined the Boy Scouts. He was one of those thorough kids, and took his responsibilities pretty seriously.
He was always in a sort of fever because he was dropping behind schedule with his daily acts of kindness. However hard he tried, he'd fall behind; and then you would find him prowling about the house, setting such a clip to try and catch up with himself that Easeby was rapidly becoming a perfect hell for man and beast.
The idea didn't seem to strike Florence. I wonder you can't appreciate the compliment I am paying you -- trusting you like this. These Boy Scouts are up to all sorts of dodges. They spoor, don't you know, and take cover and creep about, and what not. If not, say so now, and let us end this farce of pretending that you care a snap of the fingers for me. All right! I met Jeeves in the passage just outside. I was endeavouring to find you.
I had a much simpler sort of job on hand, and the thought of it rattled me to such an extent in the night watches that I was a perfect wreck next day.
Dark circles under the eyes -- I give you my word! I had to call on Jeeves to rally round with one of those life-savers of his. From breakfast on I felt like a bag-snatcher at a railway station. I had to hang about waiting for the parcel to be put on the hall table, and it wasn't put. Uncle Willoughby was a fixture in the library, adding the finishing touches to the great work, I supposed, and the more I thought the thing over the less I liked it.
The chances against my pulling it off seemed about three to two, and the thought of what would happen if I didn't gave me cold shivers down the spine.
Uncle Willoughby was a pretty mild sort of old boy, as a rule, but I've known him to cut up rough, and, by Jove, he was scheduled to extend himself if he caught me trying to get away with his life work. It wasn't till nearly four that he toddled out of the library with the parcel under his arm, put it on the table, and toddled off again.
I was hiding a bit to the south-cast at the moment, behind a suit of armour. I bounded out and legged it for the table. Then I nipped upstairs to hide the swag. I charged in like a mustang and nearly stubbed my toe on young blighted Edwin, the Boy Scout. He was standing at the chest of drawers, confound him, messing about with my ties.
It's my last Saturday's act of kindness. I was six till last night, but I polished your shoes. Did you see them? I just happened to think of it.
I was in here, looking round. Mr Berkeley had this room while you were away. He left this morning. I thought perhaps he might have left something in it that I could have sent on. I've often done acts of kindness that way. I had hidden the parcel behind my back, and I didn't think he had seen it; but I wanted to get at that chest of drawers quick, before anyone else came along.
It's not a bit of trouble -- really. I didn't want to murder the kid, and yet there didn't seem any other way of shifting him. I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea. Take it down to the smoking-room and snip off the ends for me.
That would save me no end of trouble. Stagger along, laddie. I shoved the parcel into a drawer, locked it, trousered the key, and felt better. I might be a chump, but, dash it, I could out-general a mere kid with a face like a ferret. I went downstairs again. Just as I was passing the smoking-room door out curveted Edwin.
It seemed to me that if he wanted to do a real act of kindness he would commit suicide. Snip on! I'll be getting on, then. Fellows who know all about that sort of thing -- detectives, and so on -- will tell you that the most difficult thing in the world is to get rid of the body. I remember, as a kid, having to learn by heart a poem about a bird by the name of Eugene Aram, who had the deuce of a job in this respect.
All I can recall of the actual poetry is the bit that goes: Tum-tum, tum-tum, tum-tumty-tum, I slew him, tum-tum tum! But I recollect that the poor blighter spent much of his valuable time dumping the corpse into ponds and burying it, and what not, only to have it pop out at him again.
It was about an hour after I had shoved the parcel into the drawer when I realized that I had let myself in for just the same sort of thing. Florence had talked in an airy sort of way about destroying the manuscript; but when one came down to it, how the deuce can a chap destroy a great chunky mass of paper in somebody else's house in the middle of summer?
I couldn't ask to have a fire in my bedroom, with the thermometer in the eighties. And if I didn't burn the thing, how else could I get rid of it?
Fellows on the battlefield eat dispatches to keep them from falling into the hands of the enemy, but it would have taken me a year to eat Uncle Willoughby's Recollections. I'm bound to say the problem absolutely baffled me. The only thing seemed to be to leave the parcel in the drawer and hope for the best. I don't know whether you have ever experienced it, but it's a dashed unpleasant thing having a crime on one's conscience.
Towards the end of the day the mere sight of the drawer began to depress me. I found myself getting all on edge; and once when Uncle Willoughby trickled silently into the smoking-room when I was alone there and spoke to me before I knew he was there, I broke the record for the sitting high jump.
I was wondering all the time when Uncle Willoughby would sit up and take notice. I didn't think he would have time to suspect that anything had gone wrong till Saturday morning, when he would be expecting, of course, to get the acknowledgement of the manuscript from the publishers.
But early on Friday evening he came out of the library as I was passing and asked me to step in. He was looking considerably rattled. As you know, I dispatched the manuscript of my book to Messrs Riggs and Ballinger, the publishers, yesterday afternoon.
It should have reached them by the first post this morning. Why I should have been uneasy I cannot say, but my mind was not altogether at rest respecting the safety of the parcel. I therefore telephoned to Messrs Riggs and Ballinger a few moments back to make inquiries. To my consternation they informed me that they were not yet in receipt of my manuscript. But here is a sinister thing. I have spoken to Oakshott, who took the rest of the letters to the post office, and he cannot recall seeing it there.
He is, indeed, unswerving in his assertions that when he went to the hall to collect the letters there was no parcel among them. I incline to the belief that the parcel has been stolen. Surely not! Hear me out.
Though I have said nothing to you before, or to anyone else, concerning the matter, the fact remains that during the past few weeks a number of objects -- some valuable, others not -- have disappeared in this house. The conclusion to which one is irresistibly impelled is that we have a kleptomaniac in our midst. It is a peculiarity of kleptomania, as you are no doubt aware, that the subject is unable to differentiate between the intrinsic values of objects.
He will purloin an old coat as readily as a diamond ring, or a tobacco pipe costing but a few shillings with the same eagerness as a purse of gold. The fact that this manuscript of mine could be of no possible value to any outside person convinces me that --' 'But, uncle, one moment; I know all about those things that were stolen.
It was Meadowes, my man, who pinched them. I caught him snaffling my silk socks. Right in die act, by Jove! Send for the man at once and question him. You see, directly I found that he was a sock-sneaker I gave him die boot. That's why I went to London -- to get a new man.
The whole thing is inexplicable. Uncle Willoughby pottered about die room, registering baffledness, while I sat sucking at a cigarette, feeling rather like a chappie I'd once read about in a book, who murdered another cove and hid the body under the dining-room table, and then had to be the life and soul of a dinner party, with it there all the time. My guilty secret oppressed me to such an extent that after a while I couldn't stick it any longer. I lit another cigarette and started for a stroll in the grounds, by way of cooling off.
It was one of those still evenings you get in the summer, when you can hear a snail clear its throat a mile away. The sun was sinking over the hills and the gnats were fooling about all over the place, and everything smelled rather topping -- what with the falling dew and so on -- and I was just beginning to feel a little soothed by the peace of it all when suddenly I heard my name spoken. For a moment I couldn't locate it. Then I realized that it came from the library.
My stroll had taken me within a few yards of the open window. I had often wondered how those Johnnies in books did it -- I mean the fellows with whom it was the work of a moment to do about a dozen things that ought to have taken them about ten minutes. But, as a matter of fact, it was the work of a moment with me to chuck away my cigarette, swear a bit, leap about ten yards, dive into a bush that stood near the library window, and stand there with my ears flapping.
I was as certain as I've ever been of anything that all sorts of rotten things were in the offing. I heard you talking to him just now. General Reference. General Science. Historical Fiction. Western Fiction. Wodehouse a.
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse Author Code: A Man of Means. The Diverting Episode of the Exiled Monarch. The Episode of the Landlady's Daughter. Miscellaneous Essays. Miscellaneous Short Stories.