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Archive for the ‘What ho!’ Category

The Truth About George

In Plumsville, the delicately nurtured get proposed to in many delightful ways. Here is an exquisite sample from Plumtopia, based on the lives of George and Susan.

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

1927 Meet Mr. Mulliner mycopyI asked my eight year old daughter to share her favourite Wodehouse romance and, after much umming and ahhhhing, she chose ‘The Truth About George’. In this short story (from Meet Mr. Mulliner) Mr Mulliner recounts the ordeal of his nephew George Mulliner, who must overcome his stammer in order to declare his love for Susan Blake.

Many Wodehouse couples are brought together through a common interest  — it might be golf, Tennyson’s poems, or a shared love of mystery novels, for ‘there is no surer foundation for a beautiful friendship than a mutual taste in literature’ (‘Strychnine in the Soup’). In the case of avid cruciverbalists George Mulliner and Susan Blake, it is a love of crossword puzzles.

…George was always looking in at the vicarage to ask her if she knew a word of seven letters meaning ‘appertaining to the profession of plumbing’, and Susan was…

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My Top Five Wodehouse Books

One of the most arduous tasks a fan of P G Wodehouse can undertake is that of trying to prepare a list of her top five favourite works of the Master. The mind boggles. The heart flutters. The soul rebels.

Here is someone who has attempted the near-impossible and has come up with gratifying results.

zanyzigzag's avatarZanyzigzag's Blog

Greetings, dear readers! I have been away for almost the whole of August visiting family and friends back in the UK, so unfortunately I didn’t manage my usual monthly blogpost last month. Hopefully I can now get back on track with two posts in September.

I was thinking recently about my favourite Wodehouse books and decided to try and narrow my favourites down into a Top Five list. This includes two Jeeves books, one stand-alone, one Psmith book and the only full-length Ukridge book. I have not listed them in order of preference – that process would be too drawn-out and agonising – but I have composed a small summary for each one, detailing why I like that particular story and some of the stand-out moments in each book. I know this post will probably be much more interesting for my readers who also happen to be Wodehouse fans, however, I…

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Habitually late for work? What are the excuses you normally come up with? Are there special tactics to be adopted to win over in a potentially embarrassing situation?

P G Wodehouse is not about humour alone. He also has tips on such mundane affairs.

Here is yet another delectable post from Plumtopia. Pray that your obnoxious boss does not get to read it.

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

PSmith In The CityAs he stood near the doorway, one or two panting figures rushed up the steps, and flung themselves at a large book which stood on the counter near the door. Mike was to come to know this book well.

Psmith in the City

One of the minor curses of my day-to-day existence is being habitually late for work — not through personal tardiness, I hasten to add. Mine is not the life of Joss Weatherby (Quick Service), who oversleeps after late nights at the gambling table, or Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps (Barmy in Wonderland) who goes on toots with Mervyn Potter. No, I go to bed at an early hour and rise regularly at 5.00am to write.

Dragging myself away from writing is a struggle — I sympathise with Nicholas Jules St Xavier Auguste, Marquis de Maufringneuse et Valerie-Moberanne (French Leave) who cannot drag himself from…

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Horace Prosser (of ‘The Fat of the Land’ fame) now has competition – from the Empress of Blandings!

Here is a weighty composition from Idyll Dreams of an Idle Fellow that you are sure to relish.

Wiseguy From The East's avatarIdyll Dreams of an Idle Fellow

blandingsThe over-sizedempress Plum product
Written in response to a lead…. which overweight Wodehouse character would I like to be..?…

Honoria chucked a riddle at me
Which Plum creature would I like to be?
The only stipulation I need to watch
Is this denizen of Plumsville must be fond of starch
I wracked the excuse I have for a mind
Stout Plum creations, in order to find
But all those large forms that occurred to me
Were characters I would hate to be
Stinker Pyke….. the name says it all!
Claude Pott… is like creatures that crawl
R Jones ….is the creepiest spy
Bickersdyke….was Red in view and eye
The Duke of Dunstable is a Royal ass!
The efficient Baxter….I will gladly pass
It looks like Plum does not agree,
With those fellow beings, on an eating spree
But no! There’s Beach! He breaks the scale
Buttling, however, is beyond my…

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Dinner date with Plum

What ho! Here is a juicy post from Neha Dsouza which the residents of Plumsville may like.

Quote

It was quarter past seven and my date was late. I grew anxious; would he not show up? The waiter hovered around my table.
“Your order, ma’am?” he asked me for the third time.
“Il have tea and butter cookies”, said I
That got rid of him, temporarily.
I checked my watch, it was nearly half past seven. I concluded that my date had been hit by a bus. I decided to violate my code of womanly indifference and give him a call. It rang several times with no positive outcome. My date had been hit by a bus and the impact had dislodged his phone from his grip, undoubtedly.
My phone grunted, I received a text message. It was from my date. “Stuck at work, won’t make it, sorry”.
I sighed. I didn’t know him well, so my heart didn’t shatter all over the coffee shop floor. Neither did the song “I will survive” play in my head. I was all right, a little let down that’s all.
I decided to treat myself to the tea and cookies.

My mind wandered and my thoughts were all scattered when an old man plopped into the chair in front of me and flashed a broad smile.
He may have been somewhere in his mid-forties. To me that was old because I was, back then, merely twenty two.

“Do I know you?” I asked, without sounding too alarmed.
“Oh, don’t you?” He asked
“Are you Varun Sharma?” I asked half knowing he wasn’t.

He was a foreigner, most likely a Brit. His skin was pale and white, he had a receding hairline and a soft voice.
“Certainly not”
“What is your name?” I asked
“Plum”
“Plum?”
“It is odd isn’t it? To imagine that loving parents would name the object of their sexual labour as Plum” said he
“Surely it’s the full form for something” I asked
“Yes, Pelham”
“Pelham?”
“What ho” said he
I was stunned at this revelation.
The man was British, his accent gave away his origins, his clothing was outdated, something that may have been in vogue in the seventies. Could he be? No!
“What is your surname?” I asked.
“Wodehouse, pronounced as Wode-house and not Wood house” he replied.
I sank further into my chair. “Surely this is a dream?” I asked.
“No, I’m really here”
“But aren’t you dead?”
He flinched. “Yes I passed away sometime back”
“In your nineties, but you look 40”
“Yes because the soul doesn’t age, only the body does. I’m a soulfully forty something”
“But you are deceased?”
“Yes”
“Then how are you here?”
“Well you’ve been berating at the sky, day after day, night after night that you wished to see me and consult me with regards to your writing, so here I am”
My jaw dropped
“Jesus insisted I see you, he said it would take a load off of him, can’t let the good lord carry much load after that cross business , eh?”
He clicked his tongue
“Oh my god” said I faintly.
“Please call me plum”
“It’s a dream come true”
“You flatter me too much, most people cry at the heavens for a chat with Michael Jackson and Elvis”
“How is heaven?” I asked
“Can’t divulge much, I’m bound by the sacrament of secrecy, but I can assure you it’s a giant drones club floating in the sky”
He signalled to the waiter to bring the menu.
The waiter did so with eagerness.
Mr. Wodehouse sainted through its contents, and ordered a Shepard’s pie and roly-poly pudding.
Once the waiter was out of sight and earshot he said “Mumbai is very obscene about her display of class distinction”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The cleanliness of a street is directly proportionate to the wealth possessed by the people who reside in the apartments adjoining them”.PGWodehouse

I agreed with this sentiment as the effervescent aroma of food being baked filled the café.

“So, Neha, what made you call for me? How can I help you?”
My eyes widened and I turned a shade red.
“I want to be a writer”
“Do you write every day?” He asked
“Yes”
“Well, then you’re already a writer”
“A published writer. A writer like you. Do you know that you have a huge fan following. We have a community on Facebook that discusses your work.”

His face lit up “but my dear child, I did not write to get famous, I wrote to entertain”
I may have looked confused and so he continued saying “Fame is very temporary and not largely satisfying”

My face fell, Plum took my hand, patted it and said “To be a good writer, you must first ask yourself, why do people read?”
“To get away from the monotony of daily existence?” said I
“Yes and?”
“To be transported into a different world far beyond their own”
“Yes and?”
“People also read to increase knowledge and enhance vocabulary”
“Precisely, reading is a selfish pursuit, people read to gain something. Writing cannot be a selfish pursuit. Writing must and had to be selfless and unconditional”
“I don’t understand”
“Reading is a form of escape and reader’s turn to us writers to help them escape. Their minds are at our disposal and we can chose what we want to do with it. Now my endeavour always was to uplift the spirit of my readers. You are free to lead the reader down a rabbit hole to a mad hatter’s tea party, or through a cupboard to a Narnia, through a pillar at King’s cross station to Hogwarts or to an isolated town in West America into the mind of an imbalanced girl who seeks validation through romantic trysts with werewolves and vampires. Where you lead your reader is purely your choice, and whether they want to come with you is entirely their choice. But writing is a form of giving and self-sacrifice. Selfishness and writing do not go hand in hand”

“But didn’t you enjoy the adulation and appreciation?” I asked
“I did, but I didn’t write plainly for the adulation. Remember this, you have to bleed so that your readers feel the pinch, you have to stir every sense and awaken your reader’s sleepy conscious. When your heart breaks, they should feel a splinter pierce their heart. You have to give yourself entirely, in body, spirit and soul to your reader. You have to lose a little bit of yourself, a little bit of your mind with every book or poem you write. That’s why I call it a selfless pursuit and that’s also why writers are a dashed crazy lot.”
I remained silent and absorbed the dose of knowledge
“Lastly, you must not seek validation through your work.”
“Then what must I seek?
“Satisfaction”
The waiter appeared and placed the pie in front of me. My tongue salivated at the aroma of freshly baked mince. I raised my eyes from the pie and looked over at the chair facing me. Mr. Wodehouse wasn’t there. I scanned the entire café, he was nowhere in sight. I looked over at my notebook and noticed that I had scribbled haphazardly in it.
The waiter appeared again with the roly poly pudding and said to me “Madam, I would highly recommend that you have the pudding with plums”
I beamed!

Unquote

Hope you enjoyed it. The original may be accessed at: http://zephyrnick.blogspot.in/2015/08/dinner-date-with-plum.html.

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Reading P G Wodehouse has obvious health benefits. On the flip side, it has its own perils.

pkg's avatarI and Books

It has been few years since I discovered and started enjoying the writings of P. G. Wodehouse and ever since they have never failed to amaze me in their simplicity of story and wonderful English writing. There have been long stretches of times when I have read Wodehouse books before falling asleep and the stories have always helped me to go to sleep.

You might think that these books must be really boring that I go to sleep reading them but that is not the case. These stories relax your mind completely. These are the stories where there are no bad people. The biggest problems in life are related to style of clothing one needs to wear to dinner or in some cases a lover’s tiff. There are times when a pet pig does not eat enough or there is an unwanted guest in the house. These are the simple…

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PGWodehouseThe foundations of our civilization are quivering. Homo sapiens are faced with a medical crisis of gigantic proportions. There is widespread concern about the pace at which the epidemic of Wodehousitis is spreading across countries and continents. Medical researchers of all hues are twiddling their thumbs, trying to figure out a cure for this dreaded affliction.

Wodehousitis is reported to be a disease which affects all human beings, irrespective of their age, sex, cast, creed or ethnicity. It is said to be highly contagious. A word of mouth is all that is required to lead one to contract it. One merely borrows a work of P G Wodehouse. A cursory perusal of any part of a narrative follows. A lifetime of bondage ensues. Frequent purchases of his books gladden the hearts of many a publisher. When one is not able to lay one’s hands on a particular title, one’s moral upbringing goes for a toss. Intentions of returning borrowed titles weaken. Stealing a book from the shelf of a friend becomes the norm.

To put it simply, once the germs of Wodehousitis have managed to find a foothold in any neuro-system, one’s fate is sealed.

The Symptoms

Wodehousitis manifests itself in many ways. Public display of uncontrolled mirth, a tendency to erupt into laughter at inappropriate moments, occasional falls from a chair or a sofa while lapping up one of the juicy narratives, an insatiable thirst for acquiring as many titles of his works as is humanly possible, a relentless devouring of the works of P G Wodehouse, a perpetual state of intoxication with his words of wisdom, and a pitiless analysis of the scintillating characters created by him – these are but some of the symptoms.

As a tribe, bloggers suffering from Wodehousitis also display peculiar symptoms. They cannot help themselves but publish posts based only on Master’s works. With each subsequent post, the time interval between two posts gets shortened. When they pick up any work of his, the simple joy of reading it gets subdued, only to be replaced by a tendency to analyse the narrative from different angles. An irresistible urge to compile some juicy quotes takes over, casting a gloomy spell on the otherwise sparkling wit and humour embedded in the Master’s works.

The most serious symptom happens to be the disinclination of all those suffering from Wodehousitis to seek a cure for this dreaded affliction. Once afflicted, one is apt to remain happy to continue in a state of perennial addiction. Medical fraternity is yet to find a solution to this unique kind of drug resistance.

Medicos use these symptoms to ascertain if the person under scrutiny deserves to be classified as one suffering from Wodehousitis.

Three Stages

There are three stages of Wodehousitis which have been identified and catalogued so far.

In the first stage, one displays occasional signs of having any of the symptoms described above.

In the second stage, one shows grave signs of many of these symptoms, but is still considered treatable.

The third stage is the most critical one, with no cure in sight as of now. Medicos continue to be baffled. In this stage, one is obsessed with all facets of Plum’s narratives, much to the exclusion of every other piece of literature one comes across. In each and every situation of life, a streak of one of the narratives is invariably noticed. All relatives and friends get identified with one or the other characters created by P G Wodehouse.

A person suffering from the last stage of Wodehousitis often complains of a stifling sensation. No other work of literature appeals any longer. The allure of catching up on the latest best sellers fades away. All friends, philosophers and guides sound like Jeeves. All aunts appear to be moulded along the lines of either Aunt Agatha or Aunt Dahlia.

Cops sound like Constable Oates, using their investigating skills to the hilt, but meekly surrendering to the dictates of the Justices of Peace. Introspection leads one to identify oneself with the woolly-headedness of the likes of Bertie Wooster and Lord Emsworth. All kids appear to have traces of traits like those of Thos and Edwin.

Even pets assume a halo of some kind – the canine ones sound either like a Bottles or a Bartholomew; the feline ones sound like an Augustus. All pigs look like malnourished cousins of the Empress of Blandings.

A psychoanalyst, having examined a person who has attained this blissful state, would be forgiven for certifying the person to be eminently fit to be admitted to a loony bin.

Searching for a cure

Governments the world over are justifiably worried over the relentless spread of this affliction. If our armed forces contract this affliction, fighting wars would be a thing of the past. Ex-service-persons would need to identify alternative employment avenues. Cops would take a benevolent view of law and order problems. Doctors may end up prescribing only Laughter Therapy to seriously ill patients. Politicos mighst take a leaf out of the Code of the Woosters and start rolling out welfare schemes based only on the milk of human kindness, thereby resulting in empty coffers. The socio-economic implications of widespread Wodehousitis are mind-boggling indeed.

While steps are being taken to motivate medicos to come up with a cure for Wodehousitis, fans of the author wonder if finding a solution to this endemic problem is really necessary. The overriding feeling is that the germs of Wodehousitis should instead be deployed cleverly, thereby improving the score of Gross National Happiness of all countries.

The case against finding a cure for Wodehousitis

Imagine a scenario where reading Wodehouse is made mandatory at all levels of education, all across the world. Pretty soon, professionals of all hues would end up being afflicted with Wodehousitis. Judges would end up having stiffer lips, possibly dishing out harsher sentences. Their propensity to get swayed by non-judicial considerations would get curtailed. Illegal activities of any kind would get nipped in the bud. Lawyers, doctors, engineers and professionals across all vocations would have a better sense of humour. As a consequence, their ability to deliver results would improve drastically.

Members of the so-called sterner sex would end up being more chivalrous, thereby minimizing misdemeanours directed at the delicately nurtured. Following the dictums propounded by Jeeves, match-making quality would improve. Divorce rates would plummet. Loving husbands would be more likely to follow the example of Bingo Little, thereby ensuring that the doves of peace keep their wings flapping over their humble abodes.

Even kids who are normally a threat to societal peace would aspire to be worthy of their favourite silver screen divas. Headmasters and headmistresses would lose their faith in the old adage which exhorts them to spare the rod and spoil the child.

Global peace and harmony

The premier of a country who is toying with the idea of unleashing violence upon a neighbouring country would simply meet up her counterpart, say ‘What ho!’ and gift the other a set of Wodehouse books. Peace and love would stand a better chance.

Those planning a terror strike would look at their plans askance and wonder if better results could not be achieved by persuasive methods of a gentler kind. If advised by the likes of Roberta Wickham, they might even conclude that their goals could be met more effectively by merely ensuring that the hot water bottles of the dissenting politicians and their immediate family members get punctured at frequent intervals.

Money being spent on arms of all kinds would eventually get deployed to eradicate poverty across all our continents. Gross Happiness Indices of all countries would reach stratospheric heights.

International bodies such as the United Nations would come up with a Charter of Global Happiness and take initiatives designed to spread cheer and happiness amongst all the citizens of our planet. Peace Keeping Forces would be trained in Wodehousian skills and redeployed to monitor and promote laughter and mirth in strife torn areas.

In other words, Wodehousitis need not be contained or cured. On the contrary, it needs to be spread as quickly as may be possible. This could ensure that God continues to be in heaven and all remains well with the world.

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2017/10/06/a-plummy-appeal-to-the-honble-human-resource-development-minister-of-india

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2017/11/05/a-plummy-wish-for-a-bride-to-be

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2017/12/02/the-need-to-look-for-plummy-soul-mates

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2018/01/01/spreading-wodehousitis-some-plummy-awards

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2019/05/28/dont-fret-the-future-of-wodehousitis-is-secure)

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When it comes to making a choice between characters of all sizes and shapes created by P G Wodehouse, one would be left twiddling one’s thumbs. A sense of bafflement would overwhelm us. Our minds boggle. Not so for the jury which declares the winner. They happen to be used to a pitiless analysis of characters and situations. They have nerves of chilled steel.
Pig….hoooooo….eeeey!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

Having taken the obligatory swigs of orange juice, it gives me great pleasure to announce the prize winner of the ‘Fatty O’Leary’s Dinner Party’ competition. Judging was more difficult than expected. I’m only sorry there aren’t enough prizes to go around.

The entries deserves some discussion, beginning with Sally — what a wonderful name for a Wodehouse lover. Sally was quick off the mark in suggesting Cakebread, butler of Shipley Hall in Money in the Bank. A fine answer. Even the name Cakebread implies calories. Those of you who’ve read Money in the Bank will also know it’s an alias. Cakebread isn’t Cakebread. He’s not a real butler either. But he is large.

‘The newcomer, as the sound of his footsteps had suggested, was built on generous lines. In shape, he resembled a pear, reasonably narrow at the top but getting wider and wider all the way down and…

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A saunter down the Gallery of Rogue Kids in Plumsville leaves us amazed at the innovative skills, cunning and resource of the children we come across in the works of P G Wodehouse.

Some end up boosting the sagging morale of their fathers. Some treat their step fathers with as much scorn as theyPGW PiccadillyJim can muster at a tender age. They do not spare them while out to collect protection money. Their antics could make or break matrimonial alliances in a jiffy. Souring up business deals comes easy to them. When they burn down cottages, guests are forced to seek shelter in garden sheds.

When seniors devise a Good Conduct award, they leave no stone unturned to prove their mettle. When infatuated with celebrities, they devote their lives to being worthy of their affections. When in the company of clergymen, they end up making them more spiritual, thereby making them hotter on their jobs.

When it comes to wreaking vengeance, they do not discriminate based on one’s wealth or social stature. A Cabinet Minister has as much chance of spending a rainy afternoon out in the open marooned on an island inhabited by an agitated swan as you and I. If we have reported their misdemeanours to an unforgiving mother like Aunt Agatha, we are bound to land in a soup sooner or later. If we have decided to kick them on their backsides, we are bound to find hedgehogs in our beds at night. Retribution is invariably swift and harsh.

When delivering mischief, kids of the gentler sex appear to be deadlier than their male counterparts. But they deploy subtler methods. When playing a prank, they are more delicate in their approach. Not so for the kids of the so-called sterner sex, whose roguish tendencies manifest in a straight forward manner, in full public view. Methods as well as outcomes of the pranks played by them happen to be rough.

Rankings on the Richter Scale of Roguishness

When it comes to ranking them on a Richter Scale of Roguishness, one has to evaluate the evidence available in somePGW MatingSeason of the narratives of P G Wodehouse. One sifts it based on three broad parameters. One, the gravity of the kind of pranks played. Two, if the pranks were of an ingenious nature, perpetrated by self-motivated souls, entirely of their own. Three, the goofiness of the methods deployed.

Based on the above, one would endeavour to grant them the following scores.

Ogden Ford

Here is someone who can manipulate his kidnappers with much aplomb, change the rules of the game at the school he joins and even tick off his step father. If there is a spoilt and unpleasant brat who is overindulged by his wealthy parents, it is Ogden, the supreme fiend in human shape.

A score of 8.2 would perhaps be the mot juste.

Thos

Master Thomas is one of the star attractions in the Gallery of Rogue Kids. He is the King of the Underworld. He is alsoVeryGoodJeeves known as The Shadow. He has carroty hair and a cynical expression. His manner is curt and supercilious. The only person who appears capable of outwitting him is Jeeves.

A score of less than 7.9 would be undervaluing his unique capabilities.

Edwin

He is the younger brother of Florence Craye. When he tries to catch up with his acts of kindness, human life is imperiled. His acts of mercy include burning down country cottages, nipping his father and others with a Scout’s stick when mistaking them for a burglar, mending egg boilers with perilous results and pasting press clippings of ‘Spindrift’ upside down.

He deserves a score of at least 7.7.

Seabury

If you do not cough up protection money when called upon to do so, things could happen to you. The fact that you JoyInTheMorninghappen to be an aspiring step father does not get you off the hook. Using butter slides to trip one up is one of the tricks he can teach us. This is how Bertie views him.

‘In my Rogues Gallery of repulsive small boys I suppose he would come about third – not quite so bad as my Aunt Agatha’s son, Young Thos, or Blumenfeld’s Junior, but well ahead of little Sebastian Moon, my Aunt Dahlia’s Bonzo, and the field.’

A score of less than 7.3 would be unjust.

Kid Blumenfeld

In the world of theatre, he is an undisputed king-maker. Besides nipping the career of aspiring artists in the bud, this dish-faced specimen is also in the habit of walking off with a guest’s pet. When he takes a fancy to McIntosh, Jeeves has to intervene so that relations between Bertie and Aunt Agatha continue to be cordial.

Here is someone who deserves to be awarded a score of at least 5.1.

Sebastian Moon

The boy with golden curls has hidden depths which deserve a further investigation. He tends to be direct and blunt. PGW ThankYouJeevesWhile in love with Clara Bow, he does not mince words when criticizing Greta Garbo. Jeeves is convinced about his proficiency in matters which might get classified as pranks in our civilized times.

A score of 4.6 would surely be in order.

Bonzo

Details about his escapades remain fuzzy but the opinion of his mother, Aunt Dahlia, does carry some weight with us.

‘Whenever it comes to devilry, Bonzo is a good, ordinary selling-plater. Whereas Thomas is a classic yearling.’

A score of 3.8 might do him justice.

Peggy Mainwaring

She is a red-haired young girl with a snub-nose and an extremely large grin. She could impart lessons on unnervingPGW Inimitable_jeeves the best of public speakers by using such techniques as giggling and staring.

A score of 3.6 would perhaps be in order.

Oswald

The brother of the formidable Honoria Glossop, Oswald happens to be one of those supercilious souls who give you the impression that you went to the wrong school and that your clothes do not quite fit.

He deserves a score of 3.3.

Kid Clementina

She teaches us the art of going AWOL when under the care of Miss Mapleton, the female lion-tamer.

A score of 2.1 would perhaps be in order.

Prudence Baxter

An innocent kid, she secures the fifth position at the local Egg and Spoon Race. However, thanks to Jeeves, she getsPGW CarryOnJeeves declared as a winner.

She deserves a negative rank on the Richter Scale of Roguishness: -1.8

Algernon Aubrey Little

Bingo Little Junior wins a bonny baby competition, giving his father the vim and courage to demand a raise from the proprietor of Wee Tots. When left in the custody of Oofy Prosser, his Godfather, the latter sees the futility of getting married in life and decides to remain a bachelor.

He scores -2.2.

The hapless parents of all the kids who score higher than 5 on the Richter Scale of Roguishness obviously have our full sympathies.

Notes:
1. This list does not purport to be exhaustive in nature. Nor does it claim to be highly objective. In case of a demur of any kind, a consultation with Reginald Jeeves would provide better satisfaction.
2. This summary has been compiled for the benefit of those in a tearing hurry. For a leisurely review, the reader is hereby exhorted to either refer to the original narratives of the Master, or to look up the detailed blog posts listed herein.

Sourced from:
-The Little Nugget
-Piccadilly Jim
-The Mating Season
-Very Good, Jeeves
-Joy in the Morning
-Thank you, Jeeves
-The Inimitable Jeeves
-Carry On, Jeeves
-Eggs, Beans and Crumpets

An Update:

A shorter and crisper version of this blog post also appears in Wooster Sauce, the quarterly journal of the P G Wodehouse Society (UK) in its issue number 96 of December 2020. 

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/09/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-1-of-3

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/17/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-2-of-3

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-3-of-3

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/04/01/when-masters-thos-bonzo-and-moon-rise-in-love)

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Here is yet another interesting post from Plumtopia.

The freshness of ‘Something Fresh’ is everlasting. To me, there are at least two reasons for it. One, the manner in which it showcases physical fitness. Two, the independent minded Joan Valentine who speaks thus:
‘You look on woman as a weak creature to be shielded and petted. We aren’t anything of the sort. We’re terrors. We’re as hard as nails. We’re awful creatures. You mustn’t let my sex interfere with your trying to get this reward.’
Enjoy!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

1915 Something Fresh collage

It’s a pretty special week for P.G. Wodehouse fans. June 26th will mark 100 years since the first Blandings story, Something Fresh, was serialised in the ‘Saturday Evening Post’. It was published in book form later that year (in the U.S. as Something New).

If Wodehouse had not gone on to write more Blandings stories, Something Fresh would be highly-regarded as a fine comic novel. Aside from the memorable central romance between detective fiction writer Ashe Marson and the enterprising Joan Valentine, Wodehouse gives us all the subplots and subterfuge we expect from a Blandings adventure.

And as the work that introduced characters like Lord Emsworth, Freddie Threepwood, Rupert Baxter, and Beach, Something Fresh holds a special place in many Wodehouse lovers’ hearts. It’s one of the books I often return to. The title Something Fresh seems particularly apt because the story leaps from the page, as fresh…

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