Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
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Suddenly There Was A Break. Baxter Sat Up, Blinking. He Had A
Curious Impression That His Companion Had Said "Hello, Freddie!"
Chapter 7 Pg 129And That The Door Had Just Opened And Closed.
"Eh?" He Said.
"Yes?" Said The Fat Man.
"What Did You Say?"
"I Was Speaking Of--"
"I Thought You Said, 'Hello, Freddie!'"
His Companion Eyed Him Indulgently.
"I Thought You Were Dropping Off When I Looked At You. You've
Been Dreaming. What Should I Say, 'Hello, Freddie!' For?"
The Conundrum Was Unanswerable. Baxter Did Not Attempt To Answer
It. But There Remained At The Back Of His Mind A Quaint Idea That
He Had Caught Sight, As He Woke, Of The Honorable Frederick
Threepwood, His Face Warningly Contorted, Vanishing Through The
Doorway. Yet What Could The Honorable Freddie Be Doing At The
Emsworth Arms?
A Solution Of The Difficulty Occurred To Him: He Had Dreamed He
Had Seen Freddie And That Had Suggested The Words Which, Reason
Pointed Out, His Companion Could Hardly Have Spoken. Even If The
Honorable Freddie Should Enter The Room, This Fat Man, Who Was
Apparently A Drummer Of Some Kind, Would Certainly Not Know Who
He Was, Nor Would He Address Him So Familiarly.
Yes, That Must Be The Explanation. After All, The Quaintest
Things Happened In Dreams. Last Night, When He Had Fallen Asleep
In His Chair, He Had Dreamed That He Was Sitting In A Glass Case
In The Museum, Making Faces At Lord Emsworth, Mr. Peters, And
Beach, The Butler, Who Were Trying To Steal Him, Under The
Impression That He Was A Scarab Of The Reign Of Cheops Of The
Fourth Dynasty--A Thing He Would Never Have Done When Awake. Yes;
He Must Certainly Have Been Dreaming.
In The Bedroom Into Which He Had Dashed To Hide Himself, On
Discovering That The Dining-Room Was In Possession Of The
Efficient Baxter, The Honorable Freddie Sat On A Rickety Chair,
Scowling. He Elaborated A Favorite Dictum Of His:
"You Can't Take A Step Anywhere Without Stumbling Over That Damn
Feller, Baxter!"
He Wondered Whether Baxter Had Seen Him. He Wondered Whether
Baxter Had Recognized Him. He Wondered Whether Baxter Had Heard
R. Jones Say, "Hello, Freddie!"
He Wondered, If Such Should Be The Case, Whether R. Jones'
Presence Of Mind And Native Resource Had Been Equal To Explaining
Chapter 7 Pg 130Away The Remark.
Chapter 8 Pg 131
"'Put The Butter Or Drippings In A Kettle On The Range, And When
Hot Add The Onions And Fry Them; Add The Veal And Cook Until
Brown. Add The Water, Cover Closely, And Cook Very Slowly Until
The Meat Is Tender; Then Add The Seasoning And Place The Potatoes
On Top Of The Meat. Cover And Cook Until The Potatoes Are Tender,
But Not Falling To Pieces.'"
"Sure," Said Mr. Peters--"Not Falling To Pieces. That's Right.
Go On."
"'Then Add The Cream And Cook Five Minutes Longer'" Read Ashe.
"Is That All?"
"That's All Of That One."
Mr. Peters Settled Himself More Comfortably In Bed.
"Read Me The Piece Where It Tells About Curried Lobster."
Ashe Cleared His Throat.
"'Curried Lobster,'" He Read. "'Materials: Two One-Pound
Lobsters, Two Teaspoonfuls Lemon Juice, Half A Spoonful Curry
Powder, Two Tablespoonfuls Butter, A Tablespoonful Flour, One
Cupful Scalded Milk, One Cupful Cracker Crumbs, Half Teaspoonful
Salt, Quarter Teaspoonful Pepper.'"
"Go On."
"'Way Of Preparing: Cream The Butter And Flour And Add The
Scalded Milk; Then Add The Lemon Juice, Curry Powder, Salt And
Pepper. Remove The Lobster Meat From The Shells And Cut Into
Half-Inch Cubes.'"
"Half-Inch Cubes," Sighed Mr. Peters Wistfully. "Yes?"
"'Add The Latter To The Sauce.'"
"You Didn't Say Anything About The Latter. Oh, I See; It Means
The Half-Inch Cubes. Yes?"
"'Refill The Lobster Shells, Cover With Buttered Crumbs, And Bake
Until The Crumbs Are Brown. This Will Serve Six Persons.'"
Chapter 8 Pg 132
"And Make Them Feel An Hour Afterward As Though They Had
Swallowed A Live Wild Cat," Said Mr. Peters Ruefully.
"Not Necessarily," Said Ashe. "I Could Eat Two Portions Of That
At This Very Minute And Go Off To Bed And Sleep Like A Little
Child."
Mr. Peters Raised Himself On His Elbow And Stared At Him. They
Were In The Millionaire's Bedroom, The Time Being One In The
Morning, And Mr. Peters Had Expressed A Wish That Ashe Should
Read Him To Sleep. He Had Voted Against Ashe's Novel And Produced
From The Recesses Of His Suitcase A Much-Thumbed Cookbook. He
Explained That Since His Digestive Misfortunes Had Come On Him He
Had Derived A Certain Solace From Its Perusal.
It May Be That To Some Men Sorrow's Crown Of Sorrow Is
Remembering Happier Things; But Mr. Peters Had Not Found That To
Be The Case. In His Hour Of Affliction It Soothed Him To Read Of
Hungarian Goulash And Escaloped Brains, And To Remember That He,
Too, The Nut-And-Grass Eater Of Today, Had Once Dwelt In Arcadia.
The Passage Of The Days, Which Had So Sapped The Stamina Of The
Efficient Baxter, Had Had The Opposite Effect On Mr. Peters. His
Was One Of Those Natures That Cannot Deal In Half Measures.
Whatever He Did, He Did With The Same Driving Energy. After The
First Passionate Burst Of Resistance He Had Settled Down Into A
Model Pupil In Ashe's One-Man School Of Physical Culture. It Had
Been The Same, Now That He Came To Look Back On It, At Muldoon's.
Now That He Remembered, He Had Come Away From White Plains
Hoping, Indeed, Never To See The Place Again, But Undeniably A
Different Man Physically. It Was Not The Habit Of Professor
Muldoon To Let His Patients Loaf; But Mr. Peters, After The
Initial Plunge, Had Needed No Driving. He Had Worked Hard At His
Cure Then, Because It Was The Job In Hand. He Worked Hard Now,
Under The Guidance Of Ashe, Because, Once He Had Begun, The Thing
Interested And Gripped Him.
Ashe, Who Had Expected Continued Reluctance, Had Been Astonished
And Delighted At The Way In Which The Millionaire Had Behaved.
Nature Had Really Intended Ashe For A Trainer; He Identified
Himself So Thoroughly With His Man And Rejoiced At The Least
Signs Of Improvement.
In Mr. Peters' Case There Had Been Distinct Improvement Already.
Miracles Do Not Happen Nowadays, And It Was Too Much To Expect
One Who Had Maltreated His Body So Consistently For So Many Years
To Become Whole In A Day; But To An Optimist Like Ashe Signs Were
Not Wanting That In Due Season Mr. Peters Would Rise On
Stepping-Stones Of His Dead Self To Higher Things, And Though
Never Soaring Into The Class That Devours Lobster A La Newburg
And Smiles After It, Might Yet Prove Himself A Devil Of A Fellow
Among The Mutton Chops.
Chapter 8 Pg 133
"You're A Wonder!" Said Mr. Peters. "You're Fresh, And You Have
No Respect For Your Elders And Betters; But You Deliver The
Goods. That's The Point. Why, I'm Beginning To Feel Great! Say,
Do You Know I Felt A New Muscle In The Small Of My Back This
Morning? They Are Coming Out On Me Like A Rash."
"That's The Larsen Exercises. They Develop The Whole Body."
"Well, You're A Pretty Good Advertisement For Them If They Need
One. What Were You Before You Came To Me--A Prize-Fighter?"
"That's The Question Everybody I Have Met Since I Arrived Here
Has Asked Me. I Believe It Made The Butler Think I Was Some Sort
Of Crook When I Couldn't Answer It. I Used To Write Stories--
Detective Stories."
"What You Ought To Be Doing Is Running A Place Over Here In
England Like Muldoon Has Back Home. But You Will Be Able To Write
One More Story Out Of This Business Here, If You Want To. When
Are You Going To Have Another Try For My Scarab?"
"To-Night."
"To-Night? How About Baxter?"
"I Shall Have To Risk Baxter."
Mr. Peters Hesitated. He Had Fallen Out Of The Habit Of Being
Magnanimous During The Past Few Years, For Dyspepsia Brooks No
Divided Allegiance And Magnanimity Has To Take A Back Seat When
It Has Its Grip On You.
"See Here," He Said Awkwardly; "I've Been Thinking This Over
Lately--And What's The Use? It's A Queer Thing; And If Anybody
Had Told Me A Week Ago That I Should Be Saying It I Wouldn't Have
Believed Him; But I Am Beginning To Like You. I Don't Want To Get
You Into Trouble. Let The Old Scarab Go. What's A Scarab Anyway?
Forget About It And Stick On Here As My Private Muldoon. If It's
The Five Thousand That's Worrying You, Forget That Too. I'll Give
It To You As Your Fee."
Ashe Was Astounded. That It Could Really Be His Peppery Employer
Who Spoke Was Almost Unbelievable. Ashe's Was A Friendly Nature
And He Could Never Be Long Associated With Anyone Without Trying
To Establish Pleasant Relations; But He Had Resigned Himself In
The Present Case To Perpetual Warfare.
He Was Touched; And If He Had Ever Contemplated Abandoning His
Venture, This, He Felt, Would Have Spurred Him On To See It
Through. This Sudden Revelation Of The Human In Mr. Peters Was
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