Carry On, Jeeves

P. G. Wodehouse

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9780486848952
• eBook ISBN: 9780486850672
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

Ten classic short stories by author and humorist P. G. Wodehouse tell the amusing antics and occasional mishaps of young gentleman Bertie Wooster, who regularly relies on the infinite wisdom of his consummate valet, Jeeves, for help. Lighthearted and delightful to read, these stories include some of the most popular from the Jeeves canon: “Jeeves Takes Charge,” in which Bertie and Jeeves first meet, and “Bertie Changes His Mind,” the only story told from Jeeves’s point of view.

Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest

I’M NOT ABSOLUTELY certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it’s Shakespeare—or, if not, it’s some equally brainy bird—who says that it’s always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping. And what I’m driving at is that the man is perfectly right. Take, for instance, the business of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. That was one of the scaliest affairs I was ever mixed up with, and a moment before they came into my life I was just thinking how thoroughly all right everything was.

I was still in New York when the thing started, and it was about the time of year when New York is at its best. It was one of those topping mornings, and I had just climbed out from under the cold shower, feeling like a million dollars. As a matter of fact, what was bucking me up more than anything was the fact that the day before I had asserted myself with Jeeves—absolutely asserted myself, don’t you know. You see, the way things had been going on I was rapidly becoming a dashed serf. The man had jolly well oppressed me. I didn’t so much mind when he made me give up one of my new suits, because Jeeves’s judgment about suits is sound and can generally be relied upon.

But I as near as a toucher rebelled when he wouldn’t let me wear a pair of cloth-topped boots which I loved like a couple of brothers. And, finally, when he tried to tread on me like a worm in the matter of a hat, I put the Wooster foot down and showed him in no uncertain manner who was who.

It’s a long story, and I haven’t time to tell you now, but the nub of the thing was that he wanted me to wear the White House Wonder—as worn by President Coolidge—when I had set my heart on the Broadway Special, much patronised by the Younger Set; and the end of the matter was that, after a rather painful scene, I bought the Broadway Special. So that’s how things were on this particular morning, and I was feeling pretty manly and independent.

Well, I was in the bathroom, wondering what there was going to be for breakfast while I massaged the spine with a rough towel and sang slightly, when there was a tap at the door. I stopped singing and opened the door an inch.

“What ho, without there!” I said.

“Lady Malvern has called, sir.”

“Eh?”

“Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room.”

“Pull yourself together, Jeeves, my man,” I said rather severely, for I bar practical jokes before breakfast. “You know perfectly well there’s no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How could there be when it’s barely ten o’clock yet?”

“I gathered from her ladyship, sir, that she had landed from an ocean liner at an early hour this morning.”

This made the thing a bit more plausible. I remembered that when I had arrived in America about a year before, the proceedings had begun at some ghastly hour like six, and that I had been shot out on to a foreign shore considerably before eight.

“Who the deuce is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?”

“Her ladyship did not confide in me, sir.”

“Is she alone?”

“Her ladyship is accompanied by a Lord Pershore, sir. I fancy that his lordship would be her ladyship’s son.”

“Oh, well, put out rich raiment of sorts, and I’ll be dressing.”

“Our heather-mixture lounge is in readiness, sir.”

“Then lead me to it.”

While I was dressing I kept trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern could be. It wasn’t till I had climbed through the top of my shirt and was reaching out for the studs that I remembered.

“I’ve placed her, Jeeves. She’s a pal of my Aunt Agatha.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Yes. I met her at lunch one Sunday before I left London. A very vicious specimen. Writes books. She wrote a book on social conditions in India when she came back from the Durbar.”

“Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie.”

“Eh?”

“Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir.”

It was a shock to me. I thought I had quelled the fellow. It was rather a solemn moment. What I mean is, if I weakened now, all my good work the night before would be thrown away. I braced myself.

“What’s wrong with this tie? I’ve seen you give it a nasty look before. Speak out like a man! What’s the matter with it?”

“Too ornate, sir.”

“Nonsense! A cheerful pink. Nothing more.”

“Unsuitable, sir.”

“Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!”

“Very good, sir.”

Dashed unpleasant. I could see that the man was wounded. But I was firm. I tied the tie, got into the coat and waistcoat, and went into the sitting-room.

“Hullo-ullo-ullo!” I said. “What?”

“Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have never met my son Wilmot, I think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster.”

Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, over-powering sort of dashed female, not so very tall but making up for it by measuring about six feet from the O. P. to the Prompt Side. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been bu...

Table of contents

• Beginning of Book
• Jeeves Take Charge
• The Artistic Career of Corkey
• Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest
• The Aunt and the Sluggard
• The Rummy Affair of Old Biffy
• Without the Option
• Fixing It For Freddie
• Clustering Round Young Bingo
• Bertie Changes His Mind