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Updated: June 6, 2025
Cricket was his line. He could earn his pay at that. But it was very far from being summer. He had turned the problem over in his mind till his head ached, and had eaten in the process one-third of a wooden penholder, when Psmith arrived. 'It has reached me, said Psmith, 'that you and Comrade Bickersdyke have been seen doing the Hackenschmidt-Gotch act on the floor.
Mr Bickersdyke told that story as an experience of his own while fishing one summer in the Lake District. It went well. The meeting was amused. Mr Bickersdyke went on to draw a trenchant comparison between the lack of genuine merit in the trout and the lack of genuine merit in the achievements of His Majesty's Government. There was applause. When it had ceased, Psmith rose to his feet again.
'I heard from father this morning, resumed Psmith. Mr Bickersdyke lowered his paper and glared at him. 'I don't wish to hear about your father, he snapped. An expression of surprise and pain came over Psmith's face. 'What! he cried. 'You don't mean to say that there is any coolness between my father and you? I am more grieved than I can say.
His brother was very distressed about it. What could Comrade Jackson do? Could he refuse to help his brother when it was in his power? His generous nature is a byword. He did the only possible thing. He consented to play. Mr Bickersdyke spoke. 'Am I to understand, he asked, with sinister calm, 'that Mr Jackson has left his work and gone off to play in a cricket match?
'I am unable, he said, 'to recall at this moment the exact terms of the very pleasant conversation I had with Comrade Bickersdyke on the occasion of our chance meeting in the Turkish Bath that afternoon; but, thinking things over quietly now that I have more leisure, I cannot help feeling that he may possibly have read some such intention into my words.
Mr Bickersdyke broke out into a cold perspiration. 'I forbid you to send those speeches to the papers, he cried. Psmith reflected. 'You see, he said at last, 'it is like this. The departure of Comrade Jackson, my confidential secretary and adviser, is certain to plunge me into a state of the deepest gloom.
'What is the meaning of this foolery? he asked, pointing to Psmith's gloves and hat. 'Suppose Mr Bickersdyke had come round and seen them, what should I have said? 'You would have given him a message of cheer. You would have said, "All is well. Psmith has not left us. He will come back. And Comrade Bickersdyke, relieved, would have " 'You do not seem very busy, Mr Smith.
I intimated that Comrade Bickersdyke was my greatest chum on earth. So the thing was fixed up and here I am. But you are not getting on with your porridge, Comrade Jackson. Perhaps you don't care for porridge? Would you like a finnan haddock, instead? Or a piece of shortbread? You have only to say the word.
I believe that man is beginning to dislike me, Comrade Jackson. 'What happened, anyhow? Never mind about Bickersdyke. 'Perhaps it was mistaken zeal on my part.... Well, I will tell you all. Make a long arm for the shovel, Comrade Jackson, and pile on a few more coals. I thank you. Well, all went quite smoothly for a while. Comrade B. in quite good form.
'That need not have taken you half an hour. 'True. And the actual work did not. It was carried through swiftly and surely. But the nerve-strain had left us shaken. Before resuming our more ordinary duties we had to refresh. A brief breathing-space, a little coffee and porridge, and here we are, fit for work once more. 'If it occurs again, I shall report the matter to Mr Bickersdyke.
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