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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
4
“Are
you
sure?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“You
got
the
name
correctly?
Fink-Nottle?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“Well,
it’s
the
most
extraordinary
thing.
It
must
be
five
years
since
he
was
in
London.
He
makes
no
secret
of
the
fact
that
the
place
gives
him
the
pip.
Until
now,
he
has
always
stayed
glued
to
the
country,
completely
surrounded
by
newts.”
“Sir?”
“Newts,
Jeeves.
Mr.
Fink-Nottle
has
a
strong
newt
complex.
You
must
have
heard
of
newts.
Those
little
sort
of
lizard
things
that
charge
about
in
ponds.”
“Oh,
yes,
sir.
The
aquatic
members
of
the
family
Salamandridae
which
constitute
the
genus
Molge.”
“That’s
right.
Well,
Gussie
has
always
been
a
slave
to
them.
He
used
to
keep
them
at
school.”
“I
believe
young
gentlemen
frequently
do,
sir.”
“He
kept
them
in
his
study
in
a
kind
of
glass-tank
arrangement,
and
pretty
niffy
the
whole
thing
was,
I
recall.
I
suppose
one
ought
to
have
been
able
to
see
what
the
end
would
be
even
then,
but
you
know
what
boys
are.
Careless,
heedless,
busy
about
our
own
affairs,
we
scarcely
gave
this
kink
in
Gussie’s
character
a
thought.
We
may
have
exchanged
an
occasional
remark
about
it
taking
all
sorts
to
make
a
world,
but
nothing
more.
You
can
guess
the
sequel.
The
trouble
spread.”
“Indeed,
sir?”
“Absolutely,
Jeeves.
The
craving
grew
upon
him.
The
newts
got
him.
Arrived
at
man’s
estate,
he
retired
to
the
depths
of
the
country
and
gave
his
life
up
to
these
dumb
chums.
I
suppose
he
used
to
tell
himself
that
he
could
take
them
or
leave
them
alone,
and
then
found--too
late--that
he
couldn’t.”
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