The Essential Works of P. G. Wodehouse. P. G. WodehouseЧитать онлайн книгу.
to find a way.
In the present case it was simple. The large schoolroom was situated on the ground floor, with commodious French windows which, as the weather was clement, remained open throughout the proceedings. By stationing myself behind a pillar on the porch or veranda which adjoined the room, I was enabled to see and hear all. It was an experience which I should be sorry to have missed. The guv’nor indubitably excelled himself.
Mr. Wooster is a young gentleman with practically every desirable quality except one. I do not mean brains, for in an employer brains are not desirable. The quality to which I allude is hard to define, but perhaps I might call it the gift of dealing with the unusual situation. In the presence of the unusual, Mr. Wooster is too prone to smile weakly and allow his eyes to protrude. He lacks presence. I have often wished that I had the power to bestow upon him some of the savoir faire of a former employer of mine, Mr. Montague-Todd, the well known financier, now in the second year of his sentence. I have known men call upon Mr. Todd with the express intention of horse-whipping him and go away half an hour later laughing heartily and smoking one of his cigars.
To Mr. Todd it would have been child’s play to speak a few impromptu words to a schoolroom full of young ladies; in fact, before he had finished, he would probably have induced them to invest all their pocket money in one of his numerous companies; but to the guv’nor it was plainly an ordeal which had knocked all the stuffing out of him right from the start. He gave one look at the young ladies, who were all staring at him in an extremely unwinking manner, blinked and started to pick feebly at his coat sleeve. His aspect reminded me of that of a bashful young man who has been persuaded against his better judgment to go on the platform and assist a conjurer and is having rabbits and hard boiled eggs taken out of the top of his head.
The proceedings opened with a short but graceful speech of introduction from Miss Tomlinson.
“Girls, some of you have already met Mr. Wooster—Mr. Bertram Wooster—and you all, I hope, know him by reputation.” Here the guv’nor gave a hideous, gurgling laugh and, catching Miss Tomlinson’s eye, turned vermilion. Miss Tomlinson resumed. “He has very kindly consented to say a few words to you before he leaves, and I am sure that you will all give him your very earnest attention. Now, please.”
She gave a spacious gesture with her right hand as she said the last two words, and the guv’nor, under the impression that they were addressed to him, cleared his throat and began to say something. But it appeared that her remark was directed to the young ladies and was in the nature of a cue or signal, for she had no sooner spoken them than the whole school rose to its feet in a body and burst into a species of chant, of which I am glad to say I can remember the words, though the tune eludes me. The lyric ran as follows:
Many greetings to you!
Many greetings to you!
Many greetings, dear stranger,
Many greetings,
Many greetings,
Many greetings to you!
Many greetings to you!
To you!
Considerable latitude of choice was given to the singers in the matter of key, and there was little of what I might call team work. Each child went on till she had reached the end, then stopped and waited for the stragglers to come up. It was an unusual performance, and I, personally, found it extremely exhilarating. It seemed to smite the guv’nor, however, like a blow. He recoiled a couple of steps and flung up an arm defensively. Then the uproar died away and an air of expectancy fell upon the room. Miss Tomlinson directed a brightly authoritative gaze upon the guv’nor, and he caught it, gulped somewhat and tottered forward.
“Well, you know . . .”
Then it seemed to strike him that this opening lacked the proper formal dignity.
“Ladies . . .”
A silvery peal of laughter from the front row stopped him again.
“Girls!” said Miss Tomlinson. She spoke in a low, soft voice, but the effect was immediate. Perfect stillness instantly descended upon all present. I am bound to say that, brief as my acquaintance with Miss Tomlinson had been, I could recall few women I had admired more.
I fancy that Miss Tomlinson had gauged the guv’nor’s oratorical capabilities pretty correctly by this time and had come to the conclusion that nothing much in the way of a stirring address was to be expected.
“Perhaps,” she said, “as it is getting late and he has not very much time to spare, Mr. Wooster will just give you some little word of advice which may be helpful to you in after life, and then we will sing the school song and disperse.”
She looked at the guv’nor. He passed a finger round the inside of his collar.
“Advice? After life? What? Well, I don’t know . . .”
“Just some brief word of helpful counsel, Mr. Wooster,” said Miss Tomlinson firmly.
“Oh, well . . . Well, yes . . . Well . . .” It was painful to see the guv’nor’s brain endeavoring to work. “Well, I’ll tell you something that’s often done me a bit of good, and it’s a thing not many people know. My old uncle Henry gave me the tip when I first came to London. ‘Never forget, my boy,’ he said, ‘that, if you stand outside Romano’s in the Strand, you can see the clock on the wall of the Law Courts down in Fleet Street. Most people who don’t know don’t believe it’s possible, because there are a couple of churches in the middle of the road and you would think they would be in the way. But you can, and it’s worth knowing. You can win a lot of money betting on it with fellows who haven’t found it out.’ And by Jove, he was perfectly right. Many a quid have I . . . ”
Miss Tomlinson gave a hard, dry cough.
“Perhaps it would be better, Mr. Wooster,” she said in a cold, even voice, “if you were to tell my girls some little story. What you say is no doubt extremely interesting, but perhaps a little . . . ”
“Oh, ah, yes,” said the guv’nor. “Story? Story?” He appeared completely distraught, poor young gentleman. “I wonder if you’ve heard the one about the stockbroker and the chorus girl? Stop me if you have. This chappie . . . ”
The guv'nor's is not one of those inscrutable faces
“We will now sing the school song,” said Miss Tomlinson, rising like an iceberg.
I decided not to remain for the singing of the school song. It seemed probable to me that the guv’nor would shortly be requiring the car.
I had not long to wait. In a very few moments the guv’nor came tottering up. The guv’nor’s is not one of those inscrutable faces which it is impossible to read. On the contrary, it is a limpid pool in which is mirrored each passing emotion. I could read it now like a book, and his first words were very much on the lines I had anticipated.
Jeeves, is that confounded car mended yet?“Jeeves,” he said hoarsely, “is that confounded car mended yet?”
“Just this moment, sir.”
“Then for heaven’s sake let’s go!”
“But I understood that you were to address the young ladies, sir.”
“Oh, I’ve done that!” responded the guv’nor, blinking twice. “I’ve done that.”
“It was a success, I hope, sir?”
“Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Most extraordinarily successful. Went like a breeze. But—er—I think I may as well be going. No use outstaying one’s welcome, what?”
“Assuredly not, sir.”
I had climbed into my seat and was about to start the engines when voices made themselves heard; and at the first sound of them the guv’nor sprang with almost incredible nimbleness into the tonneau, and when I glanced round he was on the floor covering himself with a rug.
“Have you seen Mr. Wooster, my man?”