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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
20
“Don’t
know
what?”
“That
this
idea
of
Jeeves’s
won’t
work.
I
feel
a
most
frightful
chump
now,
yes,
but
who
can
say
whether
that
will
not
pass
off
when
I
get
into
a
mob
of
other
people
in
fancy
dress.
I
had
the
same
experience
as
a
child,
one
year
during
the
Christmas
festivities.
They
dressed
me
up
as
a
rabbit,
and
the
shame
was
indescribable.
Yet
when
I
got
to
the
party
and
found
myself
surrounded
by
scores
of
other
children,
many
in
costumes
even
ghastlier
than
my
own,
I
perked
up
amazingly,
joined
freely
in
the
revels,
and
was
able
to
eat
so
hearty
a
supper
that
I
was
sick
twice
in
the
cab
coming
home.
What
I
mean
is,
you
can’t
tell
in
cold
blood.”
I
weighed
this.
It
was
specious,
of
course.
“And
you
can’t
get
away
from
it
that,
fundamentally,
Jeeves’s
idea
is
sound.
In
a
striking
costume
like
Mephistopheles,
I
might
quite
easily
pull
off
something
pretty
impressive.
Colour
does
make
a
difference.
Look
at
newts.
During
the
courting
season
the
male
newt
is
brilliantly
coloured.
It
helps
him
a
lot.”
“But
you
aren’t
a
male
newt.”
“I
wish
I
were.
Do
you
know
how
a
male
newt
proposes,
Bertie?
He
just
stands
in
front
of
the
female
newt
vibrating
his
tail
and
bending
his
body
in
a
semi-circle.
I
could
do
that
on
my
head.
No,
you
wouldn’t
find
me
grousing
if
I
were
a
male
newt.”
“But
if
you
were
a
male
newt,
Madeline
Bassett
wouldn’t
look
at
you.
Not
with
the
eye
of
love,
I
mean.”
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