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Bickersteth is in need of a little ready money, and is at a loss to obtain it elsewhere, he might secure the sum he requires by describing the occurrences of this afternoon for the Sunday issue of one of the more spirited and enterprising newspapers." "By Jove!" I said. "By George!" said Bicky. "Great heavens!" said old Chiswick. "Very good, sir," said Jeeves.
The inhabitants of this country, as no doubt you are aware, sir, are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands with prominent personages. It occurred to me that Mr. Bickersteth or yourself might know of persons who would be willing to pay a small fee let us say two dollars or three for the privilege of an introduction, including handshake, to his grace." Bicky didn't seem to think much of it.
I had met Bicky for the first time at a species of beano or jamboree down in Washington Square, not long after my arrival in New York. I suppose I was a bit homesick at the time, and I rather took to Bicky when I found that he was an Englishman and had, in fact, been up at Oxford with me.
Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year what?" A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said. "What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then." "Jeeves," I said.
Take the rather rummy case, for instance, of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the hard-boiled egg. It happened after I had been in America for a few months. I got back to the flat latish one night, and when Jeeves brought me the final drink he said: "Mr. Bickersteth called to see you this evening, sir, while you were out." "Oh?" I said. "Twice, sir. He appeared a trifle agitated." "What, pipped?"
He telegraphed a glance to Bickerton. "Turf him out, Bicky." But Penny, perceiving that rough treatment would ensue, gracefully removed himself from the room, so timing his motions that he closed the door from outside just as Bickerton from within arrived at the handle. Bickerton, defeated, swung round upon the assembly and asked if he should follow the fugitive.
"Absolutely!" "But your recompense, my dear Francis, would consist in the unrivalled opportunities you would have, as my secretary, to gain experience, to accustom yourself to the intricacies of political life, to in fact, you would be in an exceedingly advantageous position." "Five hundred a year!" said Bicky, rolling it round his tongue.
"Oh, to think how we've been disappointed in you!" interposed Bickerton, who had taken up a position on the fender. "To think how we've cherished this viper in our bosom!" And he raised his hands in mock despair. "Now don't be an ass, Bicky," said Stanley, who deemed that a Court of Inquiry over which he presided was much too weighty an affair to be approached with levity; "it's no joking matter.
The puppies weren't bad, nor the new under-gardener who swore so awfully at his inferior, nor "Hello, Tommy." "Hello, Bicky." Brigit Mead wore a short blue skirt, brown shoes, a pink wash-silk blouse made like a man's shirt, and a green felt hat that obviously belonged to someone else.
I fancy that you would find this answer satisfactorily, sir." Bicky had stopped rocking himself and was staring at Jeeves in an awed sort of way. "I would advocate the dispatching of a wireless message to his grace on board the vessel, notifying him of the change of address. Mr. Bickersteth could meet his grace at the dock and proceed directly here. Will that meet the situation, sir?"
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