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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
182
There
was
applause,
and
a
voice
cried:
“Hear,
hear!”
“Yes,”
said
Gussie,
“it
is
a
beautiful
world.
The
sky
is
blue,
the
birds
are
singing,
there
is
optimism
everywhere.
And
why
not,
boys
and
ladies
and
gentlemen?
I’m
happy,
you’re
happy,
we’re
all
happy,
even
the
meanest
Irishman
that
walks
along
Broadway.
Though,
as
I
say,
there
were
two
of
them--Pat
and
Mike,
one
drawing
out,
the
other
putting
in.
I
should
like
you
boys,
taking
the
time
from
me,
to
give
three
cheers
for
this
beautiful
world.
All
together
now.”
Presently
the
dust
settled
down
and
the
plaster
stopped
falling
from
the
ceiling,
and
he
went
on.
“People
who
say
it
isn’t
a
beautiful
world
don’t
know
what
they
are
talking
about.
Driving
here
in
the
car
today
to
award
the
kind
prizes,
I
was
reluctantly
compelled
to
tick
off
my
host
on
this
very
point.
Old
Tom
Travers.
You
will
see
him
sitting
there
in
the
second
row
next
to
the
large
lady
in
beige.”
He
pointed
helpfully,
and
the
hundred
or
so
Market
Snods-buryians
who
craned
their
necks
in
the
direction
indicated
were
able
to
observe
Uncle
Tom
blushing
prettily.
“I
ticked
him
off
properly,
the
poor
fish.
He
expressed
the
opinion
that
the
world
was
in
a
deplorable
state.
I
said,
‘Don’t
talk
rot,
old
Tom
Travers.’
‘I
am
not
accustomed
to
talk
rot,’
he
said.
‘Then,
for
a
beginner,’
I
said,
‘you
do
it
dashed
well.’
And
I
think
you
will
admit,
boys
and
ladies
and
gentlemen,
that
that
was
telling
him.”
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