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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
30
If
I
hadn’t
been
afraid
of
spilling
the
healing
brew,
I
have
little
doubt
that
I
should
have
given
an
impatient
gesture.
I
know
I
felt
like
it.
“Not
the
contents
of
this
cup.
All
this.
Your
barging
in
and
telling
me
to
get
up
and
dress,
and
all
that
rot.”
“I’ve
barged
in,
as
you
call
it,
because
my
telegrams
seemed
to
produce
no
effect.
And
I
told
you
to
get
up
and
dress
because
I
want
you
to
get
up
and
dress.
I’ve
come
to
take
you
back
with
me.
I
like
your
crust,
wiring
that
you
would
come
next
year
or
whenever
it
was.
You’re
coming
now.
I’ve
got
a
job
for
you.”
“But
I
don’t
want
a
job.”
“What
you
want,
my
lad,
and
what
you’re
going
to
get
are
two
very
different
things.
There
is
man’s
work
for
you
to
do
at
Brinkley
Court.
Be
ready
to
the
last
button
in
twenty
minutes.”
“But
I
can’t
possibly
be
ready
to
any
buttons
in
twenty
minutes.
I’m
feeling
awful.”
She
seemed
to
consider.
“Yes,”
she
said.
“I
suppose
it’s
only
humane
to
give
you
a
day
or
two
to
recover.
All
right,
then,
I
shall
expect
you
on
the
thirtieth
at
the
latest.”
“But,
dash
it,
what
is
all
this?
How
do
you
mean,
a
job?
Why
a
job?
What
sort
of
a
job?”
“I’ll
tell
you
if
you’ll
only
stop
talking
for
a
minute.
It’s
quite
an
easy,
pleasant
job.
You
will
enjoy
it.
Have
you
ever
heard
of
Market
Snodsbury
Grammar
School?”
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