Not wholly spiritual

     "He stands it, aged relative, because he loves her, and you wouldn't be far wrong in saying that love conquers all. I know what you mean, of course. It suprises you that a fellow of his thews and sinews should curl up in a ball when she looks squiggle-eyed at him and receive her strictures, if that's the word I want, with the meekness of a spaniel rebuked for bringing a decaying bone into the drawing room. What you overlook is the fact that in the matter of finely chiseled profile, willowy figure and platinum-blonde hair she is well up among the top ten, and these things weigh with a man like Ginger. You and I, regarding Florence coolly, pencil her in as too bossy for hyman consumption, but he gets a different slant. It's the old business of what Jeeves calls the psychology of the individual.

    "Very possibly the seeds of rebellion start to seethe within him when she speaks her mind, but he catches sight of her sideways or gets a glimpse of her hair, assuming for purposes of argument that she isn't wearing  hat, or notices once again that she has as many curves as a scenic railway, and he feels that it's worth putting up with a spot of mind-speaking in order to make her his own. His love, you see, is not wholly spiritual. There's a bit of the carnal mixed up in it."

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

He botched it again

     "It was the Chamber of Commerce luncheon at the Town Hall. A vitally important occasion, and he made the feeblest speech i have ever heard. A child with water on the brain could have done better. Even you could have done better."

    Well, I suppose placing me on a level of efficiency with a water-on-the-brain child was quite a stately compliment coming from Florence, so I didn't go further into the matter, and she carried on, puffs of flame emerging from both nostrils.

    "Er, er, er!"

    "I beg your pardon."

    "He kept saying Er, Er, er, er. I could have thrown a coffee spoon at him."

    Here, of course, was my chance to work in the old gag about to err being human, but it didn't seem to me the moment. Instead, I said, "He was probably nervous."

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Sir Pelham

 You may have noticed that when I give the references on this blog for any quotes from the inimitable comedic writer, P. G. Wodehouse, I call him "Sir Pelham." His full name was Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (pronounced WOOD-house). The nickname used by family and close friends was "Plum," which I suspect was a contraction of Pelham.

Wodehouse was knighted in the 1975 New Year's Honours List, just a month before he died on February 14th. He and actor Charlie Chaplin were knighted in the same ceremony. 

Wodehouse and Chaplin were both given the rank of K. B. E., or Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire. 

The five classes of appointment to the order are, from highest grade to lowest grade:

1. Knight Grand Cross or Dame Grand Cross of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (GBE);
2. Knight Commander or Dame Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE or DBE);
3. Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (CBE);
4. Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (OBE); and
5. Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE).

The senior two ranks of Knight or Dame Grand Cross and Knight or Dame Commander entitle their members to use the titles Sir for men and Dame for women before their forenames, except with honorary awards.

Curiously, Bob Hope was made an honorary Knight Commander, but as far as I have been able to find, was never called "Sir." Wodehouse and Chaplin, although they spent large portions of their lives in the United States, were naturally born British subjects, and so were entitled to be called "Sir." Since Hope was born near London, it is not clear why he was never called "Sir."

I'll be glad when you're gone, you rascal, you

     "Oh, Bertie, how nice to see you again. How are you?"

    "I'm fine. How are you?"

    "I'm fine."

    "That's fine. How's your father?"

    "He's fine."

    I was sorry to hear this. My relations with Sir Watkyn Bassett were such that a more welcome piece of news would have been that he had contracted bubonic plague and wasn't expected to recover.

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

There is something about Earls

 When she had been betrothed to Gussie Fink-Nottle, the peril of her making a switch had always been present, Gussie being the sort of spectacled newt-collecting freak a girl might at any moment get second thoughts about, but there was something so reassuring in her being engaged to Spode. Because, whatever you might think of him, you couldn't get away from it that he was the seventh Earl of Sidcup, and no girl who has managed to hook a seventh Earl with a castle in Shropshire and an income of twenty thousand pounds per annum is lightly  going to change her mind about him.

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

The problem with over-population

     "Whoever told you about population explosions?"

    "Jeeves. They are rather a favorite subject of his. He says if something isn't done pretty soon - "

    "I'll bet he said, If steps are not taken shortly through the proper channels."

    "He did, as a matter of fact. He said, If steps are not taken shortly through the proper channels, half the world will soon be standing on the other half's shoulders."

    "All right if you're one of the top layer."

    "Yes, there's that, of course."

    "Though even then it would be uncomfortable. Tricky sort of balancing act."

    "True."

    "And difficult to go for a stroll if you wanted to stretch the legs. And one wouldn't get much hunting."

    "Not much."

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

    

Watch those stockbrokers!

     "You'll hardly believe this, but soon after that he turned up at Totleigh Towers, Sir Watkyn's house in Gloucestershire."

    "Incredible!'

    "I thought you'd think so."

    "Disguised, of course? A wig? A false beard? His cheeks stained with walnut juice?"

    "No, he came quite openly, invited by my future wife. She has a sort of sentimental pity for him. I think she hopes to reform him."

    "Girls will be girls."

    "Yes, but I wish they wouldn't."

    "Did you rebuke your future wife?"

    "I wasn't in a position to then."

    "Probably a wise thing, anyway. I once rebuked the girl I wanted to marry, and she went off and teamed up with a stockbroker."

(from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Defending the family honor

     There was something in the unhappy man's tone as he spoke, something so crushed and forlorn, that John could not but melt a little. He paused at the door. I crossed his mind that he might possibly be able to cheer him up.

    "Uncle Lester," he said, "hod did you get on with Sergeant-Major Flannery at Healthward Ho?" 

    Mr. Carmody winced. Unpleasant memories seemed to be troubling him.

    "Just before I left," said John, "I blacked his eye and we fell downstairs together."

    "Downstairs?"

    "Right down the entire flight. He thumped his head against an oak chest."

    On Mr. Carmody's drawn face there hovered for an instant a faint flickering smile.

    "I thought you'd be pleased," said John.

(from Money For Nothing," by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)