Office Boys

Here are five representatives of the human race (well, some of them are almost human) who are entitled, by their profession, to take part in the Office Boys' High-Kicking Championship, as described in Sam the Sudden. Open, one presumes, to all office boys whose legs are not broken before the second Sunday in Epiphany.

1. A___, when not running errands, spent his time in a small cubbyhole down the corridor reading the comics. He could be summoned by a bell, and she went into B___'s office to press the requisite button.

"I'm going out, young A___," she said when he appeared. "I shan't be long. Park yourself at my desk and take any telephone calls. [...]"

She was gone some twenty minutes. Returning all tuned up and ready for another spell of sitting and thinking of nothing, she was pleased to see A___ at his post. Full of tea, buns and the milk of human kindness, she might have patted him on the head, had it not been for the peculiarly repellent brand of hair oil which he affected.

"Any calls?" she asked, and A___ replied that there had been only one.

[...]

"I wasn't on to him at first. He was all right when he asked for the boss, didn't hiccup or anything. I said the boss had hopped it and would he care to leave a message. Then guess what."

"What?"

"He said 'Yus, tell him I put C___ in the middle drawer of the desk'."

[...]

"But how do you put a girl in the middle drawer of a desk? There wouldn't be room."

"There would if you chopped her up first. But I could see it was just the drunken babble of someone who had been mopping it up all day like a vacuum cleaner, so I dismissed the thing from my mind."

What is the name of the office boy (A) and what happened to the unfortunate girl (C)?

2. Brooding upon these matters, he was interrupted by the opening of the door. The gentlemanly office-boy entered. D___ looked up, annoyed.

"How many times have I told you not to come in here without knocking?" he asked sternly.

The office-boy reflected.

"Seven," he replied.

"What would you have done if I had been in conference with an important client?"

"Gone out again," said the office-boy. Working in a Private Enquiry Agency, you drop into the knack of solving problems.

"Well, go out now."

"Very good, sir. I merely wished to say that, while you were absent at lunch, a gentleman called."

Who is the gentleman who called during the boss's absence?

3. A loud and angry voice proceeding through the door had warned her before she turned the handle that a disturbed atmosphere prevailed within. She found E___ in a state of effervescing fury, engaged in a passionate passage with F___ the office boy.

[...]

The instinct of self-preservation rules us all. G___, though their acquaintance had been so brief, was fond of F___, and had her own affairs been less pressing might have attempted to create a diversion. As it was, she merely welcomed the fact that E___ was busy outside of his private office and walked into that sanctum without a pause. And there was the second door, beckoning her.

What did F___ do to incur the fury of E___?

4. Those who have studied the subject have come to the conclusion that the boorishness of New York theatrical managers' office-boys cannot be the product of mere chance. Somewhere, in some sinister den in the criminal districts of the town, there is a school where small boys are trained for these positions, where their finer feelings are rigorously uprooted and rudeness systematically inculcated by competent professors. Of this school the Cerberus of Messrs H___ and J___ had been the star scholar. Quickly seeing his natural gifts, his teachers had given him special attention. When he had graduated, it had been amidst the cordial good wishes of the entire staff. They had taught him all they knew, and they were proud of him. They felt that he would do them credit.

This boy raised a pair of pink-rimmed eyes to K___, sniffed, bit his thumb-nail, and spoke. He was a snub-nosed boy. His ears and hair were vermillion. His name was L___. He had seven hundred and forty-three pimples.
"Woddyerwant?" enquired L___, coming within an ace of condensing the question into a word of one syllable.

"I want to see Mr H___."

"Zout!" said the Pimple King, and returned to his paper.

[...]

K___ looked at him sternly.

"You wretched child!" she said, encouraged by a sharp giggle from the neighbourhood of the switchboard. "Do you know where little boys go who don't speak the truth? I can hear him playing the piano. Now he's singing! And it's no good telling me he's busy. If he was busy, he wouldn't have time to sing. If you're as deceitful as this at your age, what do you expect to be when you grow up? You're an ugly little boy, you've got red ears, and your collar doesn't fit. I shall speak to Mr H___ about you."

With which words K___ opened the door and walked in.

Please name the employers of the Pimple King.

5. M___, passing through the front door like an east wind, found himself confronted by a small boy with a cold and supercilious eye.

"Yes?" said the boy, with deep suspicion. He seemed to be a lad who distrusted his fellowmen and attributed the worst motives to their actions.

M___ pointed curtly to a door on which was the legend "N___, Mgr."

"I wish to see N___, Mgr.," he said.

The boy's lip curled contemptuously. He appeared to be on the point of treating the application with silent disdain. Then he vouchsafed a single, scornful word.

"Can'tseeMrN___withoutanappointment," he said.

A few weeks before, a rebuff like this would have sent M___ stumbling blushfully out of the place, tripping over his feet. But now he merely brushed the child aside like a feather, and strode to the inner office.

WhoisthemanwhomM___could'ntseewithoutanappointment?

Round 292 - 30 October 2006

Plum Pie

A belated tribute to Sir Pelham, on the occasion of his 125th birthday, two weeks ago: a festival of plums and prunes!

1. A___ himself was inclined to make light of the whole affair, urging modestly that his profession, that of a fruit-farmer, gave him perhaps a certain advantage over his fellow-men when it came to dealing with wasps.

"Why, sometimes in the picking season," said A___, "I've had as many as six standing on each individual plum, rolling their eyes at me and daring me to come on."

B___ looked up from his hot Scotch and lemon.

"Suppose they had been gorillas?" he said.

A___ considered this.

"There wouldn't be room," he argued, "not on an ordinary-sized plum."

Who is the intrepid plum-picker?

2. "Similarly," said C___, "with D___ (Tulse Hill), who wants to know how to improve the flavour of prunes. You or I would say that the flavour of prunes was past praying for, that the only thing to do when cornered by a prune was to set your teeth and get it over with. Not so E___"

"He means -"

"-E___. 'A little vinegar added to stewed prunes,' says the writer, 'greatly improves the flavour. And although it may seem strange, it causes less sugar to be used.' What happens? What is the result? D___'s husband comes back tired and hungry after a day's work. 'Prunes for dinner again, I suppose?' he says moodily. 'Yes, dear,' replies D___, 'but of a greatly improved flavour.' Well, he doesn't believe her, of course. He sits down sullenly. Then, as he deposits the first stone on his plate, a delighted smile comes into his face. 'By Jove!' he cries. 'The flavour is greatly improved. They still taste like brown paper soaked in machine oil, but a much superior grade of brown paper. How did you manage it?' 'It was not I, dearest,' says D___, 'but E___. Acting on their advice, I added a little vinegar, with the result that not only is the flavour greatly improved but, strange though it may seem, I used less sugar.' 'Heaven bless E___!' cries the husband."

What is the name of this excellent publication (E___)?

3. The nod was enough for F___. Where the other had obtained his information he did not know, but not for an instant did he question its accuracy. Solid citizens like G___ do not make scenes in public places unless they have good grounds for them, and in H___'s empurpled face he seemed to read obvious signs of guilt. Actually, H___ had turned purple because of the piece of fillet steak to which allusion was made earlier, but F___ was not aware of this. The way he reasoned was that if a man is called a swindler and immediately becomes the colour of a ripe plum, the verdict is in, and remembering that in his guest's wallet was a cheque for two thousand pounds, signed "F___", he acted promptly. Edging around the table, he flung himself on H___ and in next to no time had begun to try to throttle him.

Who is the plum look-alike?

4. Practically all she said was about food and J___'s tendency to shovel it down in excessive quantities, thereby handing the lemon to his stomachic tissues. She didn't seem particularly interested in my stomachic tissues, rather giving the impression that if K___ burst it would be all right with her. It was on young J___ that she concentrated as the brand to be saved from the burning. Gazing at him like a high priestess at the favourite, though erring, disciple, she told him all the things that were happening to his inside because he would insist on eating stuff lacking in fat-soluble vitamins. She spoke freely of proteins, carbohydrates, and the physiological requirements of the average individual. She was not a girl who believed in mincing her words, and a racy little anecdote she told about a man who refused to eat prunes had the effect of causing me to be a non-starter for the last two courses.

Who is the prune specialist?

5. "She reminds me of my Aunt Horatia, who died of apoplexy during Christmas dinner. Keeled over half-way through her second helping of plum pudding and never spoke again."

Who reminds whom of his Aunt?

Round 293 - 8 November 2006

Household Furniture – Beds

We begin our examination of household furniture in the canon with a theme that should prove conclusively that those pundits who claim that Wodehouse couldn’t write a good bedroom scene are talking through their hats.

1. He leaped to the door, and, as he did so, the handle began to turn.

The cloud which had settled on ___(A)___‘s mind lifted abruptly. For an instant he was enabled to think about a hundred times more quickly than was his leisurely wont. Good fortune had brought him to within easy reach of the electric-light switch. He snapped it back and was in darkness. Then, diving silently and swiftly to the floor, he wriggled under the bed. The thud of his head against what appeared to be some sort of joist or support, unless it had been placed there by the maker as a practical joke, on the chance of this kind of thing happening some day, coincided with the creak of the opening door. Then the light was switched on again, and the bulldog in the corner gave a welcoming woofle.

“And how is mamma’s precious angel?”

Rightly concluding that the remark had not been addressed to himself and that no social obligation demanded that he reply, __(A)__ pressed his cheek against the boards and said nothing. (….) He was finding his position physically as well as mentally distressing. It was cramped under the bed, and the boards were harder than anything he had ever encountered. Also it appeared to be the practice of the housemaids at the [name of hotel] to use the space below the beds as a depository for the dust which they swept off the carpet, and much of this was insinuating itself into his nose and mouth. The two things which __(A)__ would have liked most to do at that moment were first to kill Miss __(B)__ – if possible, painfully – and then to spend the remainder of his life sneezing.

2. “What’s the time?”

“Just on eight o’clock, sir.”

“Then __(C)__ has been chasing him for two hours and a half. We must save the unfortunate blighter. (….) The first thing, then, is to find him. After that we can discuss plans and schemes. Go forth, __(D)__, and scour the neighbourhood.”

“It will not be necessary, sir. If you will glance behind you, you will see Mr ___(E)___ coming out from beneath your bed.”

And, by Jove, he was absolutely right.

There was __(E)__, emerging as stated. He was covered with fluff and looked like a tortoise popping forth for a bit of a breather.

3. The odd fact that __(F)__ was not among those present suddenly presented itself to the company.

(...)

__(H)__ laughed the wholesome, indulgent laugh of one who is broad-minded enough to see the humour of the situation even when the joke is at her expense.

“What a silly girl I am!” she said. “I do believe that was __(F)__ I shot at upstairs. How foolish of me making a mistake like that!”

“You shot my only son?” cried Mr __(G)__.

“I shot at him,” said __(H)__. “My belief is that I missed him. Though how I came to do it beats me. I don’t suppose I’ve missed a sitter like that since I was a child in the nursery. (…) I shall get chaffed about this if it comes out.”

“The poor boy must be in his room,” said Mr __(G)__.

“Under the bed, if you ask me,” said __(H)___, blowing on the barrel of her gun and polishing it with the side of her hand. “He’s all right! Leave him alone and the housemaid will sweep him up in the morning.”

(One page later, after being sent on a reconnaissance mission, __(H)__ confirmed her speculation about __(F)__’s whereabouts.) “Right under the bed,” she announced cheerfully. “making a noise like a piece of fluff to deceive burglars.”

4. And, as they stood there, a voice made itself heard from a room down the corridor.

“___(I)___! Come out! Come out, __(I)__, my dear fellow, immediately.”

In the race for the room from which the words had proceed, ___(J)___, getting off to a good start, beat her brother by a matter of two lengths. She was thus the first to see a sight unusual even at [name of country house], though strange things had happened there from time to time.

Her young guest, Miss ___(K)___, was standing by the window, looking excited and alarmed. Her brother ___(L)___, pointing a gun expertly from the hip, was staring fixedly at the bed. And from under the bed, a little like a tortoise protruding from its shell, there was coming into view the spectacled head of ___(I)___.

5. To dive under the bed was with __(M)__ the work of a moment. And there, as the door opened, he lay, holding his breath and trying to keep his ears from rustling in the draught.

__(N)__ was a leisurely undresser. He doffed his gaiters, and then for some little time stood, apparently in a reverie, humming one of the song-hits from the psalms. Eventually, he resumed his disrobing, but even then the ordeal was not over. As far as __(M)__ could see, in the constrained position in which he was lying, the Bishop was doing a few setting-up exercises. Then he went into the bathroom and cleaned his teeth. It was only at the end of half an hour that he finally climbed between the sheets and switched off the light.

(As proof of the habit-forming appeal of hiding under beds, just two pages later our old friend M took refuge in someone else’s bedroom – let’s call her “O” – and once again disappeared beneath the bed “like a diving duck.”)

Round 294 - 15 November 2006

Chairs

We continue our study of household furniture this week by turning our attention to the chair.

1. After a bit of a look round, I decided that the best chance of getting a sort of night’s rest was to doss as well as I could in the arm-chair. I pinched a couple of pillows off the bed, shoved the hearth-rug over my knees, and sat down and started counting sheep.

But it wasn’t any good. The old lemon was sizzling much too much to admit of anything in the nature of slumber. (…) I was just wondering if I would ever get to sleep again in this world when a voice at my elbow said “Good Morning, sir,” and I sat up with a jerk.

I could have sworn I hadn’t so much as dozed off for even a minute, but apparently I had. For the curtains were drawn back and daylight was coming in through the window and there was __(A)__ standing beside me with a cup of tea on a tray.

“Merry Christmas, sir!”

2. “What did he say?” asked the voice of Mrs __(B)__.

“Something about his peculiar position.”

“Why is he in a peculiar position?”

“Ah! There you have me.”

"Let me talk to the man.”

There was a scuffling noise followed by a heavy fall and a plaintive cry from a female in distress.

“I knew that chair would break if you stood on it,” said Lord __(C)__. “I wish I could have had a small bet on that chair breaking if you stood on it.”

“Wheel the bed under the window,” replied the indomitable woman beside him. She had lost an inch of skin from her right ankle, but her hat was still in the ring.

A grating noise proclaimed the shifting of the bed. There was a creak of springs beneath a heavy weight. The window, in its capacity of loud speaker, announced Mrs __(B)__ calling.

3. Just then the door opened and the maid appeared. She was one of those snorting girls, and she snorted something about a gentleman. I couldn’t get it. “Who’s a gentleman?”

“Outside. He says he wants to see you.”

“It must be Uncle ___(D)___,” said __(E)__.

“Of course,” I said. “Show him in (...) at once.”

And a moment later in came a bloke. Obviously not __(D)__ for __(E)__ and the O.B.E. gave no sign of recognition. Then who? The man was a perfect stranger to me.

However, I played the host.

“Good afternoon,” I said affably.

“Afternoon,” said the bloke.

“Take a chair,” I said.

“I’m going to take all the chairs,” he said. “And the sofa, too. I’m from the Mammoth Furniture Company, and the cheque for the deposit on this stuff has been returned Refer to Drawer.”

It is not too much to say, __(F)__, that I reeled. Yes, laddie, your old friend tottered and would have fallen had he not clutched at a chair. And, from the look in the bloke’s eye, it began to seem that my chances of clutching at that particular chair were likely to be very soon a thing of the past.

4. He enquired for Mr __(G)__ and presently the other came wheezing along, and after a certain amount of Well-well-well-ing and So-here-you-are-at-last-ing, inevitable in the circumstances, they went into the dining-room and seated themselves at a table. It gratified __(H)__ to note that as his relative lowered himself into his chair, the chair visibly quivered beneath him and gave out a protesting squeal. On his journey down he had from time to time an uneasy feeling that that snapshot might have exaggerated the other’s proportions, but one glance had been enough to tell him that these were idle fears. Now that he saw the man in the flesh, he felt, like the Queen of Sheba, that the half had not been told unto him.

(A few pages later a dining-room chair actually DID collapse beneath Mr G’s weight, causing him to mutter with a touch of peevishness, “They seem to make these chairs very flimsy nowadays.”)

5. (And, for a bonus point – and give yourself an extra pat on the back if you can get this one without googling – which two friends had a standing offer to donate their chairs to the cause in the event of a bonfire in their college quad, as evidenced by the following conversation?)

“In fact, we’ve always been pals. What?”

“Of course we have.”

“Then, whenever there was a rag on, and a bonner in the quad, you always knew you could help yourself to my chairs.”

“You had the run of mine.”

“We’ve shared each other’s baccy.”

“And whisky.”

“In short, we’ve always been pals. What?”

Round 295 - 23 November 2006

Home Entertainment Centres

With an assortment of HDTVs, DVDs, VCRs, CDs, PCs, and countless other high-tech initials at his beck and call the twenty-first century householder has home entertainment opportunities that a PGW character could only dream of.

And yet, there is no shortage of home entertainment options, both electronic and otherwise, in the canon. In recent months, for example, other Quizmasters in this space have reminded us about the time Gally Threepwood invited Sue Brown to listen to a radio lecture on newts, and the time Mr Purkiss was distracted while airing the Peke when his radio gave a squawk and started talking German. And I myself, in an earlier Quizmastering stint, recalled the incident in Spring Fever when an inebriated burglar, twiddling the knobs on what he thought was a safe, dialled up a programme of dance music from a continental radio station.

Here are a few other examples for your consideration.

1. He spread the envelopes out on the table, and drew one at random.

“Whiteley’s,” he said. “Getting jumpy. Are in receipt of my favour of the 7th inst. and are at a loss to understand. It’s rummy about these blighters, but they never seem able to understand a damn thing. It’s hard! You put things in words of one syllable for them, and they just goggle and wonder what it all means. They want something on account. Upon my Sam, I’m disappointed with Whiteley’s. (…) How can I let them have their infernal money when there isn’t any? Here’s one from Dorchester. Smith, the chap we got the gramophone from. Wants to know when I’m going to settle up for sixteen records.”

“Sordid brute!”

2. “I tell you, I am a lost man.”

He buried his face in his hands. __(A)__ touched __(B)__ on the arm, and together the two men stole silently out.

“Bad!” said __(B)__.

“Very bad,” said __(A)__

“It seems incredible.”

“Oh, no. Cases of this kind are, alas, by no means uncommon among those who, like __(C)__, possess to a marked degree the highly-strung, ultra-sensitive artistic temperament. A friend of mine, a rhythmical interior decorator, once rashly consented to put his aunt’s parrot up in his studio while she was away visiting friends in the north of England. She was a woman of strong evangelical views, which the bird had imbibed from her. It had a way of putting its head on one side, making a noise like someone drawing a cork from a bottle, and asking my friend if he was saved. To cut a long story short, I happened to call on him a month later and he had installed a harmonium in his studio and was singing hymns, ancient and modern, in a rich tenor, while the parrot, standing on one leg on its perch, took the bass. A very sad affair. We were all much upset about it.”

3. “His name’s ___(D)__. (…) And he’s on Time or Newsweek or one of those papers. His editor told him to go and interview your brother, so he wrote asking if he could make an appointment, and your brother wrote back naming a day. His letter was written in red chalk. (…) He asked __(D)__ to lunch and when he got there he told him they were going to lunch backwards. (…) And after lunch, when he tried to interview the old bird – sorry, your late brother – all the old loony – your late brother, I mean – would do was play records on the gramophone and tell __(D)__ to shut up when he tried to say anything. He just sat there sipping his third cocktail and tucking into the potted shrimps and playing records. He was particularly fond of Dorothy Shay. He played that Mountain Girl song of hers sixteen times and was still playing it when __(D)__ left.”

4. He awoke half an hour later with a confused sense that something was wrong. He had been dreaming that he was walking down Fifth Avenue at the head of a military brass band, clad only in a bathing-suit. As he sat up in bed, blinking in the dazed fashion of the half-awakened, the band seemed to be playing still. There was undeniably music in the air. The room was full of it. It seemed to be coming up through the floor and rolling about in chunks all round his bed.

Mr __(E)__ blinked the last fragments of sleep out of his system, and became filled with a restless irritability. (…) He rang the bell for __(F)__.

“Is Mr __(G)__ playing that – that damned gas-engine in the drawing-room?”

“Yes, sir. Tosti’s ‘Goodbye’. A charming air, sir.”

“Go and tell him to stop it!”

“Very good, sir.”

(Note: In the American edition of this book the above scene contained two additional nuggets too good not to pass on. When the valet, (F), made his entrance he was described as “a grave, thin, intellectual man who looked like a duke, only more respectable” and when he exited he “withdrew like a duke leaving the royal presence, not actually walking backwards, but giving the impression of doing so”.)

5. As he spoke, the library door burst open, and __(H)__ came dashing out, horror written on his every feature.

“I say, chaps,” said __(H)__, “the most appalling thing has happened!”

__(I)__ moaned.

“Not something more?”

“This is the absolute frozen limit. The Derby is just starting –”

“__(H)__, the Chief Constable is here.”

“– and the television set has gone on the blink. Oh, it’s my fault, I suppose. I was trying to get a perfect adjustment, and I must have twiddled the wrong thingummy.”

Round 296 - 3 December 2006

Household Furniture – Tables

We conclude our examination of household furniture by turning our attention to tables, mostly occasional, and all of them being abused.

1. “Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a lonely man who lived in a cottage all by himself –”

He stopped. Was it __(A)__ who was talking this bilge?

“Yes?” whispered the girl.

“– but one day there came to him out of nowhere a little fairy princess. She –”

He stopped again, but this time not because of the sheer shame of listening to his own voice. What caused him to interrupt his tale was the fact that at this moment the tea-table suddenly began to rise slowly in the air, tilting as it did so a considerable quantity of hot tea on to the knees of his trousers.

“Ouch!” cried __(A)__, leaping.

The table continued to rise, and then fell sideways, revealing the homely countenance of __(B)__, who, concealed by the cloth, had been taking a nap beneath it.

2. There was a certain spot near the foot of the great staircase which __(C)__, coming downstairs, and __(D)__, coming up, had to pass on their respective routes. __(D)__ reached it at one minute and three seconds after two a.m., moving silently but swiftly, and __(C)__, also maintaining a good rate of speed, arrived there at one minute and four seconds after the hour, when he ceased to walk and began to fly, accompanied by __(D)__, now going down. (…) In due season they reached the foot of the stairs and a small table covered with occasional china and photographs in frames which lay adjacent to the foot of the stairs.

That, especially the occasional china, was what __(E)__ had heard.

(A description of a wrestling match between C and D, concluding with …) __(C)__ rediscovered __(D)__’s throat and began squeezing it afresh, and a pleasant time was being had by all when __(E)__, whizzing down the stairs, tripped over __(C)__’s legs and cannoned into another table, also covered with occasional china and photographs in frames. The Hall at [name of country house] was more an extra drawing-room than a hall and (….) consequently was dotted pretty freely with small tables. There were, indeed, no fewer than five more in various spots waiting to be bumped into and smashed.

(NOTE: There are a few minor differences between the UK edition quoted above and the American version of the same book, but your Quizmaster is confident these will not cause you any difficulties.)

3. She walked into the flat briskly enough, but she pulled up short as she crossed the threshold, appalled by the majestic ruin that met her gaze. A shell bursting in the little sitting-room could hardly have created more havoc. (…)

Bleak chaos appeared on every side. The floor was littered with every imaginable shape and size of broken glass and china. Fragments of pictures, looking as if they had been chewed by some prehistoric animal, lay among heaps of shattered statuettes and vases. As __(F)__ moved slowly into the room after her involuntary pause, china crackled beneath her feet. She surveyed the stripped walls and turned to __(G)___ for an explanation.

__(G)__ had subsided on to an occasional table, and was weeping softly again. It had come over him once more that he had been very, very badly treated. (…) There was a sharp crack as the occasional table, never designed by its maker to bear heavy weights, gave way in a splintering fury of broken legs under the pressure of the master of the house: and __(F)__’s mood underwent an abrupt change. (…) Her sense of humour was tickled. It was, if she could have analyzed her feelings, at herself that she was mocking – at the feeble, sentimental __(F)__ who had once conceived the absurd idea of taking this preposterous man seriously.

4. “In a nutshell, what will people say when they find you here?”

“But they won’t find me here.”

“You think so? Ha! What about ___(H)___? (…) At nine tomorrow morning he will bring me tea.”

“Well, you’ll like that.”

“He will bring it to this room. He will approach the bed. He will place it on the table.”

“What on earth for?”

“To facilitate my getting at the cup and sipping.”

“Oh, you mean he will put the tea on the table. You said he would put the bed on the table.”

“I never said anything of the sort.”

“You did. Distinctly.”

I tried to reason with the girl.

“My dear child,” I said. “I must really ask you to use your intelligence. __(H)__ is not a juggler. He is a well trained gentleman’s personal gentleman, and would consider it a liberty to put beds on tables.

5. Ever since he had been trodden on by Mrs __(I)__, the Alsatian had been thinking things over and trying to fix the responsibility. It had now become plain to him that all the evidence pointed to the cat. He had never liked the cat. He had disapproved all along of admitting her to the library. But he had been prepared to tolerate her presence, provided she started no phonusbolonus. This, by hypnotizing women into treading on his sore foot and smiling superciliously after it had occurred, she had done, and it was time, he felt, to act.

The cat, at the moment when he reached this decision, was still on top of Mr __(I)__’s head. It was consequently with something of a shock that the latter, whose attention had been riveted on his wife and Mrs __(J)__, became aware that a dog whom he had never liked was leaping up and scrabbling at his face. (….)

Nature had bestowed upon __(I)__ one gift of which he was modestly proud – his right upper cut. In the days when he had battled among the pork-and-beaners, he had too often been restricted in its use by the evasiveness of his opponents; but now, at last confronted by an antagonist who seemed willing to mix it, he was able to express himself. There was a dull, chunky sound, and the Alsatian, flying through the air, descended on an occasional table covered with china. Picking himself up, he sat surrounded by the debris, like Marius among the ruins of Carthage, and began licking himself. As far as the Alsatian was concerned, the war was over.

Round 297 - 11 December 2006

Dickens

"God bless us, every one," said Egbert.

He had a feeling that he had heard that before somewhere, but we cannot all be original ...

"Another Christmas Carol", The World of Mr Mulliner

With Christmas coming, we're going to ignore Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright's advice to Bertie: "Never get Dickensy".

1. "You read your fellow man like a book."

"Oh, thanks. Just a matter of studying the psychology of the individual."

"Unfortunately you can't judge someone like A__ by ordinary standards. Do you know why this is, B__?"

"No, C__. Why?"

"Because he's a hellhound, and there's no telling what a hellhound will do. ... The thing was a flop. It couldn't have been a worse flop if I had been trying to get money out of a combination of Scrooge and Gaspard the Miser."

Name the modern Scrooge.

2. "You remind me of Carter Paterson ... no, that's not it ... Nick Carter ... no, not Nick Carter ... Who does D__ remind me of, E__?"

"Sidney Carton, miss."

"That's right. Sidney Carton."

A few pages later, D comments:

Nor did the consciousness that I was innocent seem to help much. I drew no consolation from the fact that F__ thought me like Sidney Carton. I had never met the chap, but I gathered that he was someone who had taken it on the chin to oblige a girl, and to my mind this was enough to stamp him as a priceless ass. Sidney Carton and D__, I felt – nothing to choose between them. Sidney, one of the mugs – D__, the same.

To receive full credit, name not only D but F.

3. "Hullo," he said politely, straightening himself and standing with cue at rest. ...

No sense of impending disaster came to G__. To her, this man was still the sort of modern Cheeryble Brother whom she had heard chatting so gaily out of the window.

A few pages later, the Cheeryble Brother extends his repertoire of Dickensian imitations.

The Sidney Carton spirit descended upon H__ – with the difference, that where Sidney, if one remembers correctly, was rather pleased about the whole thing he himself felt bitter and defiant.

Name G and H.

4. "You know what lovers are."

"Sounds potty."

"But is frequently done, I believe, when the heart is young."

"He may not have mentioned marriage."

"I wouldn't build too much on that. I know he asked me once how to spell "honeymoon", which shows the trend his thoughts were taking. You can't speak of honeymoon in a letter to a girl without laying up trouble for yourself. When you consider what a mere reference to chops and tomato sauce did to Mr Pickwick –"

"Who's Mr Pickwick?"

Name the speakers.

5. J__ had been hoping, lawyerlike, to spin the thing out quite a good deal before coming to the point, but seeing that quick action was desired, he leaped to what he would have called the res.

"It's all right about the television contract. The sale went through this morning." ...

"How much do we get?"

"Well, after deducting legal expenses –"

"Oh, gosh!" said K__. "It isn't going to be like that Thing and Thing thing in Bleak House, is it, where all the money went to the lawyers?"

Name I and J, the lawyer and client.

Extra Credit 1: Who claims that her last name should be Micawber because her father was "just like Mr Micawber"?

Extra Credit 2: Which Wodehouse character states that Hollywood, "once a combination of Santa Claus and Good King Wenceslaus, has turned into a Scrooge"?

Round 298 - 19 December 2006

Babies

"All babies are practically dotty," according to Freddie Threepwood, and his view is more charitable than most men's in Wodehouse. Bruce Corcoran is tempted to bean a baby with an axe.

Identify the people expressing their opinion of babies in #1-4, and the name of the baby in #5.

1. "How many of these frightful babies will there be?"

"There were forty-three last year."

"Forty-three! ... Gosh, I wish I was back in Brazil."

"Oh, A__."

"I do. What a country! Nothing but flies and ticks and alligators and snakes and scorpions and tarantulas and a sort of leech that drops on you from trees and sucks your blood. Not a baby to be seen for miles."

2. "Kissed any babies lately?"

"Ah!" he said again, this time with a shudder. I could see that I had touched an exposed nerve. "What blighters babies are, B__, dribbling, as they do, at the side of the mouth."

3. "The job you've got to tackle is the baby-kissing –"

"I won't kiss their infernal babies! ... Why don't you kiss these beastly babies?"

"There's something about me that scares 'em, laddie. I've tried it once or twice, but only alienated several valuable voters by frightening their offspring into a nervous collapse. I think it's my glasses they don't like. But you – now, you," said C__, with revolting fulsomeness, "are an ideal baby-kisser. The first time I ever saw you, I said: 'There goes one of Nature's baby-kissers'."

4. Now, D__'s views on babies are well defined. He is prepared to cope with them singly, if all avenues of escape are blocked and there is a nurse or mother standing by to lend aid in case of sudden hiccoughs, retchings, or nausea. ... But it would be paltering with the truth to say that he likes babies. They give him, he says, a sort of grey feeling. He resents their cold stare and the supercilious and up-stage way in which they dribble out of the corner of their mouths on seeing him. Eyeing them, he is conscious of doubts as to whether Man can really be Nature's last word.

This being so, you will readily understand that, even for so stupendous a fee as five hundred francs, he shrank from being closeted with a whole platoon of the little brutes.

5. On the question of whether E__ was ethically justified in bringing his baby into the club and standing it a milk straight in the smoking room, opinion at the F__ [name of the establishment] was sharply divided. ... G__ thought that if E__ did let the young thug loose on the premises, he ought at least to give the Committee a personal guarantee for all hats, coats, and umbrellas.

"Because if ever I saw a baby that looked like someone the police were spreading a dragnet for," said G__, "it is this baby of X's. Definitely the criminal type. It reminds me of Edward G. Robinson."

Round 299 - 27 December 2006

Baby Talk

A young woman of singular beauty and rather statuesque appearance came out of the club-house carrying a baby swaddled in flannel. As she drew near the table she said to the baby:

"Chicketty wicketty wicketty wipey pop!"

In other respects her intelligence appeared to be above the ordinary.

– "The Rough Stuff"

Identify the five women guilty of heinous assault on the English language.

1. "I found this darling pussycat in the garden," she said, and for the first time I observed that she was bearing A__ in her arms. He was looking a bit disgruntled, and one could readily see why. He wanted to catch up with his sleep and was being kept awake by the endearments she was murmuring in his ear.

She lowered him to the ground.

"I brought him here to talk to Poppet. Poppet loves cats, don't you, angel? Come and say how-d'you-do to the sweet pussykins, darling."

I shot a quick look at B__, to see how he was reacting to this. It was the sort of observation which might well have quenched the spark of love in his bosom, for nothing tends to cool the human heart more swiftly than babytalk.

2. The arrival of his Cousin C__ deepened D__'s gloom. Even at the best of times she was hard to bear. A stout and voluminous woman in the early forties with eyes like blue poached eggs, she had never had the sense to discard the baby-talk which had so entertained the young men in her débutante days.

"Ooh, what a lot of g'ate big booful books!" said Cousin C__, addressing, apparently, the small fluffy dog which she bore in her arms. "Ickle Willie-dog must be a good boy and not bite the books, and maybe Uncle E___ will give him a lovely cakie."

3. "It was a terrible shock when she walked out on me."

The thought crossed F__'s mind that after his ample experience of that sort of thing the exodus of another wife should have seemed pure routine, but she did not say so. She was a tactful girl, and it was plain to her that for some inscrutable reason the loss of the third Mrs G__, who had chewed gum and talked baby-talk, had affected him deeply. ...

"She used to say the cutest things."

"I can imagine."

"She used to call roses woses."

"So she did."

"And rabbits wabbits."

4. I remember reading in the papers that she had divorced my employer for persistent mental cruelty, calling witnesses to bear out her statement that he had said he did not like her in pink, and that on two separate occasions had insisted on her dog eating the leg of a chicken instead of the breast; but Time, the great healer, seemed to have removed all bitterness, and she greeted him affectionately.

"Wassums going to win great big championship against nasty rough strong man?" she said.

5. She turned to the dog H__. "Is lovely kind curate going to pinch bad, ugly policeman's helmet for his muzzer, zen, and make her very, very happy?" she said.

Or words to that general trend. I can't do the dialect, of course.

Round 300 - 4 January 2007

Kissing Time (Fifth Annual Valentine's Day Quiz)

Last year the annual Valentine's Day Quiz was nearly a month late. To make up for that, this year it's early.

Name both the kissers and those whose upturned faces they cover with burning kisses.

1. "All that," he said coldly, "would go a lot stronger with me, if I hadn't seen you kissing A__ yesterday."

B__ stared.

"Kissing A__?"

"Kissing A__."

"I never kissed A__."

"Yes, you did kiss A__. On the front steps."

B__ clapped a hand to his forehead.

"Good Lord, yes, so I did. Yes, you're perfectly right. I did, didn't I? It all comes back to me. But only like a brother."

"Like a brother, my foot."

"Like a brother," insisted B__, as if he had spent his whole life watching brothers kiss housemaids.

2. "Some months later," proceeded C__, "the man came over to England. He met the girl. And still looking on her as an old friend, you understand, he lost his head and, two minutes after they had met, he kissed her."

"Must have been rather a soppy kind of a silly sort of idiot," observed the blonde shingled girl critically.

3. "You hear what I said? You kiss her."

"But..."

"Come on, come on, come on!"

It is not easy to bestow a kiss with a warmth sufficient to satisfy a father who likes his kisses emotional and at the same time to convey to the party of the second part a suggestion of deep and respectful apology. But D__ did his best.

A few pages later, the kiss is reprised before an additional witness:

... He turned to D__. "I want a word with you," he said. "Kiss E__ and come along."

There are few things which call for so nice an exhibition of tact as the kissing of a girl in the presence of her fiancé. D__ did his best to perform the feat in a manner calculated to cause the minimum of disapproval, but he was haunted by a suspicion that he had not quite got the sympathy of his audience.

4. "F__!"

"Yes, G__?"

"Go for a walk!"

"But I've just been for a walk."

"Go for another."

"Why?"

"Can't you see I want to kiss her?"

F__ looked doubtful.

"It is not a thing I should advise on a full stomach." ...

"F__!"

"Yes, my dear fellow?"

"Do you want to be torn limb from limb?"

"Certainly not," said F__, who could imagine nothing less hygienic.

5. "But I'm engaged to you," she faltered, rather giving the impression that she could have kicked herself for being such a chump.

"Oh, that can be readily adjusted," I said heartily. "Call it off, is my advice. You don't want a weedy butterfly like me about the home, you want something more in the nature of a soulmate, a chap with a number nine hat you can sit and hold hands and talk about TS Eliot with. And H__ fits the bill."

She choked a bit. The light of hope was now very pronounced.

"I__! You will release me?"

"Certainly, certainly. Frightful wrench, of course, and all that sort of thing, but consider it done."

"Oh, I__!"

She flung herself upon me and kissed me. Unpleasant, of course, but these things have to be faced.