Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
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Messrs. Mainprice, Mainprice & Boole Until The Afternoon, It Is
Possible That Barriers Of Laziness Might Have Reared Themselves
In The Path Of Adventure; For Ashe, An Adventurer At Heart, Was
Also Uncommonly Lazy. As It Was, However, He Could Make An
Immediate Start.
Pausing But To Put On His Shoes, And Having Satisfied Himself By
A Glance In The Mirror That His Appearance Was Reasonably Good,
He Seized His Hat, Shot Out Of The Narrow Mouth Of Arundell Street
Like A Shell, And Scrambled Into A Taxicab, With The Feeling
That--Short Of Murder--They Could Not Make It Too Delicate And
Dangerous For Him.
He Was Conscious Of Strange Thrills. This, He Told Himself, Was
The Only Possible Mode Of Life With Spring In The Air. He Had
Always Been Partial To Those Historical Novels In Which The
Characters Are Perpetually Vaulting On Chargers And Riding Across
Country On Perilous Errands. This Leaping Into Taxicabs To Answer
Stimulating Advertisements In The Morning Post Was Very Much The
Same Sort Of Thing. It Was With Fine Fervor Animating Him That He
Entered The Gloomy Offices Of Mainprice, Mainprice & Boole. His
Brain Was Afire And He Felt Ready For Anything.
"I Have Come In Ans--" He Began, To The Diminutive Office Boy,
Who Seemed To Be The Nearest Thing Visible To A Mainprice Or A
Boole.
"Siddown. Gottatakeyerturn," Said The Office Boy; And For The
First Time Ashe Perceived That The Ante-Room In Which He Stood
Was Crowded To Overflowing.
This, In The Circumstances, Was Something Of A Damper. He Had
Pictured Himself, During His Ride In The Cab, Striding Into The
Office And Saying. "The Delicate And Dangerous Enterprise. Lead
Me To It!" He Had Not Realized Until Now That He Was Not The Only
Man In London Who Read The Advertisement Columns Of The Morning
Post, And For An Instant His Heart Sank At The Sight Of All This
Competition. A Second And More Comprehensive Glance At His Rivals
Gave Him Confidence.
The Wanted Column Of The Morning Paper Is A Sort Of Dredger,
Which Churns Up Strange Creatures From The Mud Of London's
Underworld. Only In Response To The Dredger's Operations Do They
Come To The Surface In Such Numbers As To Be Noticeable, For As A
Rule They Are Of A Solitary Habit And Shun Company; But When They
Do Come They Bring With Them Something Of The Horror Of The
Depths.
It Is The Saddest Spectacle In The World--That Of The Crowd
Collected By A Wanted Advertisement. They Are So Palpably Not
Wanted By Anyone For Any Purpose Whatsoever; Yet Every Time They
Gather Together With A Sort Of Hopeful Hopelessness. What They
Were Originally--The Units Of These Collections--Heaven Knows.
Fate Has Battered Out Of Them Every Trace Of Individuality. Each
Now Is Exactly Like His Neighbor--No Worse; No Better.
Ashe, As He Sat And Watched Them, Was Filled With Conflicting
Emotions. One-Half Of Him, Thrilled With The Glamour Of
Adventure, Was Chafing At The Delay, And Resentful Of These Poor
Creatures As Of So Many Obstacles To The Beginning Of All The
Brisk And Exciting Things That Lay Behind The Mysterious Brevity
Of The Advertisement; The Other, Pitifully Alive To The Tragedy
Of The Occasion, Was Grateful For The Delay.
On The Whole, He Was Glad To Feel That If One Of These Derelicts
Did Not Secure The "Good Pay For The Right Man," It Would Not Be
His Fault. He Had Been The Last To Arrive, And He Would Be The
Last To Pass Through That Door, Which Was The Gateway Of
Chapter 4 Pg 58Adventure--The Door With Mr. Boole Inscribed On Its Ground Glass,
Behind Which Sat The Author Of The Mysterious Request For
Assistance, Interviewing Applicants. It Would Be Through Their
Own Shortcomings--Not Because Of His Superior Attractions--If
They Failed To Please That Unseen Arbiter.
That They Were So Failing Was Plain. Scarcely Had One Scarred
Victim Of London's Unkindness Passed Through Before The Bell
Would Ring; The Office Boy, Who, In The Intervals Of Frowning
Sternly On The Throng, As Much As To Say That He Would Stand No
Nonsense, Would Cry, "Next!" And Another Dull-Eyed Wreck Would
Drift Through, To Be Followed A Moment Later By Yet Another. The
One Fact At Present Ascertainable Concerning The Unknown Searcher
For Reckless Young Men Of Good Appearance Was That He Appeared To
Be Possessed Of Considerable Decision Of Character, A Man Who Did
Not Take Long To Make Up His Mind. He Was Rejecting Applicants
Now At The Rate Of Two A Minute.
Expeditious Though He Was, He Kept Ashe Waiting For A
Considerable Time. It Was Not Until The Hands Of The Fat Clock
Over The Door Pointed To Twenty Minutes Past Eleven That The
Office Boy's "Next!" Found Him The Only Survivor. He Gave His
Clothes A Hasty Smack With The Palm Of His Hand And His Hair A
Fleeting Dab To Accentuate His Good Appearance, And Turned The
Handle Of The Door Of Fate.
The Room Assigned By The Firm To Their Mr. Boole For His Personal
Use Was A Small And Dingy Compartment, Redolent Of That
Atmosphere Of Desolation Which Lawyers Alone Know How To Achieve.
It Gave The Impression Of Not Having Been Swept Since The
Foundation Of The Firm, In The Year 1786. There Was One Small
Window, Covered With Grime. It Was One Of Those Windows You See
Only In Lawyers' Offices. Possibly Some Reckless Mainprice Or
Harebrained Boole Had Opened It In A Fit Of Mad Excitement
Induced By The News Of The Battle Of Waterloo, In 1815, And Had
Been Instantly Expelled From The Firm. Since Then, No One Had
Dared To Tamper With It.
Gazing Through This Window--Or, Rather, Gazing At It, For X-Rays
Could Hardly Have Succeeded In Actually Penetrating The Alluvial
Deposits On The Glass--Was A Little Man. As Ashe Entered, He
Turned And Looked At Him As Though He Hurt Him Rather Badly In
Some Tender Spot.
Ashe Was Obliged To Own To Himself That He Felt A Little Nervous.
It Is Not Every Day That A Young Man Of Good Appearance, Who Has
Led A Quiet Life, Meets Face To Face One Who Is Prepared To Pay
Him Well For Doing Something Delicate And Dangerous. To Ashe The
Sensation Was Entirely Novel. The Most Delicate And Dangerous Act
He Had Performed To Date Had Been The Daily Mastication Of Mrs.
Bell's Breakfast--Included In The Rent. Yes, He Had To Admit
It--He Was Nervous: And The Fact That He Was Nervous Made Him Hot
And Uncomfortable.
Chapter 4 Pg 59
To Judge Him By His Appearance, The Man At The Window Was Also
Hot And Uncomfortable. He Was A Little, Truculent-Looking Man,
And His Face At Present Was Red With A Flush That Sat Unnaturally
On A Normally Lead-Colored Face. His Eyes Looked Out From Under
Thick Gray Eyebrows With An Almost Tortured Expression. This Was
Partly Owing To The Strain Of Interviewing Ashe's Preposterous
Predecessors, But Principally To The Fact That The Little Man Had
Suddenly Been Seized With Acute Indigestion, A Malady To Which He
Was Peculiarly Subject.
He Removed From His Mouth The Black Cigar He Was Smoking,
Inserted A Digestive Tabloid, And Replaced The Cigar. Then He
Concentrated His Attention On Ashe. As He Did So The Hostile
Expression Of His Face Became Modified. He Looked Surprised
And--Grudgingly--Pleased.
"Well, What Do You Want?" He Said.
"I Came In Answer To--"
"In Answer To My Advertisement? I Had Given Up Hope Of Seeing
Anything Part Human. I Thought You Must Be One Of The Clerks.
You're Certainly More Like What I Advertised For. Of All The
Seedy Bunches Of Dead Beats I Ever Struck, The Aggregation I've
Just Been Interviewing Was The Seediest! When I Spend Good Money
In Advertising For A Young Man Of Good Appearance, I Want A Young
Man Of Good Appearance--Not A Tramp Of Fifty-Five."
Ashe Was Sorry For His Predecessors, But He Was Bound To Admit
That They Certainly Had Corresponded Somewhat Faithfully To The
Description Just Given. The Comparative Cordiality Of His Own
Reception Removed The Slight Nervousness That Had Been Troubling
Him. He Began To Feel Confident--Almost Jaunty.
"I'm Through," Said The Little Man Wearily. "I've Had Enough Of
Interviewing Applicants. You're The Last One I'll See. Are There
Any More Hobos Outside?"
"Not When I Came In."
"Then We'll Get Down To Business. I'll Tell You What I Want Done,
And If You Are Willing You Can Do It; If You Are Not Willing You
Can Leave It--And Go To The Devil! Sit Down."
Ashe Sat Down. He Resented The Little Man's Tone, But This Was
Not The Moment For Saying So. His Companion Scrutinized Him
Narrowly.
"So Far As Appearance Goes," He Said, "You Are What I Want." Ashe
Felt Inclined To Bow. "Whoever Takes On This Job Has Got To Act
As My Valet, And You Look Like A Valet." Ashe Felt Less Inclined
To Bow.
"You're Tall And Thin And Ordinary-Looking. Yes; So Far As
Chapter 4 Pg 60Appearance Goes, You Fill The Bill."
It Seemed To Ashe That It Was Time To Correct An Impression The
Little Man Appeared To Have Formed.
"I Am Afraid," He Said, "If All You Want Is A Valet, You Will
Have To Look Elsewhere. I Got The Idea From Your Advertisement
That Something Rather More Exciting Was In The Air. I Can
Recommend You To Several Good Employment Agencies If You Wish."
He Rose. "Good-Morning!" He Said.
He Would Have Liked To Fling The Massive Pewter Inkwell At This
Little Creature Who Had So Keenly Disappointed Him.
"Sit Down!" Snapped The Other.
Ashe Resumed His Seat. The Hope Of Adventure Dies Hard On A
Spring Morning When One Is Twenty-Six, And He Had The Feeling
That There Was More To Come.
"Don't Be A Damned Fool!" Said The Little Man. "Of Course I'm Not
Asking You To Be A Valet And Nothing Else."
"You Would Want Me To Do Some Cooking And Plain Sewing On The
Side, Perhaps?"
Their Eyes Met In A Hostile Glare. The Flush On The Little Man's
Face Deepened.
"Are You Trying To Get Fresh With Me?" He Demanded Dangerously.
"Yes," Said Ashe.
The Answer Seemed To Disconcert His Adversary. He Was Silent For
A Moment.
"Well," He Said At Last, "Maybe It's All For The Best. If You
Weren't Full Of Gall Probably You Wouldn't Have Come Here At All;
And Whoever Takes On This Job Of Mine Has Got To Have Gall If He
Has Nothing Else. I Think We Shall Suit Each Other."
"What Is The Job?"
The Little Man's Face Showed Doubt And Perplexity.
"It's Awkward. If I'm To Make The Thing Clear To You I've Got To
Trust You. And I Don't Know
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