United States or United States Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Wantonly to accuse a man of puffing when he goes up a flight of stairs is something very different." I began to see that the situation would require all my address and ingenuity. If the wedding bells were ever to ring out in the little church of Market Snodsbury, Bertram had plainly got to put in some shrewdish work.
Some twenty minutes had elapsed, and having picked the honest fellow up outside the front door, I was driving in the two-seater to the picturesque town of Market Snodsbury. Since we had parted he to go to his lair and fetch his hat, I to remain in my room and complete the formal costume I had been doing some close thinking. The results of this I now proceeded to hand on to him.
As regards his getting blotto and turning the prize-giving ceremonies at Market Snodsbury Grammar School into a sort of two-reel comic film, I will say nothing, for frankly I enjoyed it.
Considering what had passed at Market Snodsbury that afternoon, it was one which I had been expecting her to touch on earlier. When she did touch on it, I could see that she had not yet been informed of Angela's engagement. "I say, Bertie," she said, meditatively chewing fruit salad. "This Spink-Bottle." "Nottle." "Bottle," insisted the aunt firmly.
This cannot be done by wolfing sausages." "No, sir." "Very well, then." And, taking form and p., I drafted the following: Fink-Nottle Brinkley Court, Market Snodsbury Worcestershire Lay off the sausages. Avoid the ham. Bertie. "Send that off, Jeeves, instanter." "Very good, sir." I sank back on the pillows. "Well, Jeeves," I said, "you see how I am taking hold.
So you see we shall, by lacing that juice, not only embolden him to propose to Miss Bassett, but also put him so into shape that he will hold that Market Snodsbury audience spellbound." "In fact, you will be killing two birds with one stone, sir." "Exactly. A very neat way of putting it. And now here is a minor point.
It was from my Aunt Dahlia, operating from Market Snodsbury, a small town of sorts a mile or two along the main road as you leave her country seat. It ran as follows: Come at once. Travers. And when I say it puzzled me like the dickens, I am understating it; if anything. As mysterious a communication, I considered, as was ever flashed over the wires.
The Grammar School at Market Snodsbury had, I understood, been built somewhere in the year 1416, and, as with so many of these ancient foundations, there still seemed to brood over its Great Hall, where the afternoon's festivities were to take place, not a little of the fug of the centuries.
"And in two shakes of a duck's tail Gussie, with all that lapping about inside him, will be distributing the prizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar School before an audience of all that is fairest and most refined in the county." "Yes, sir." "It seems to me, Jeeves, that the ceremony may be one fraught with considerable interest." "Yes, sir." "What, in your opinion, will the harvest be?"
All right, then, I shall expect you on the thirtieth at the latest." "But, dash it, what is all this? How do you mean, a job? Why a job? What sort of a job?" "I'll tell you if you'll only stop talking for a minute. It's quite an easy, pleasant job. You will enjoy it. Have you ever heard of Market Snodsbury Grammar School?" "Never." "It's a grammar school at Market Snodsbury."
Word Of The Day