"Very good, sir."

And so the long day wore on till it was time for me to dress for Pongo's
party.

Pongo had assured me, while chatting of the affair on the previous night,
that this birthday binge of his was to be on a scale calculated to
stagger humanity, and I must say I have participated in less fruity
functions. It was well after four when I got home, and by that time I was
about ready to turn in. I can just remember groping for the bed and
crawling into it, and it seemed to me that the lemon had scarcely touched
the pillow before I was aroused by the sound of the door opening.

I was barely ticking over, but I contrived to raise an eyelid.

"Is that my tea, Jeeves?"

"No, sir. It is Mrs. Travers."

And a moment later there was a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and the
relative had crossed the threshold at fifty m.p.h. under her own steam.



-4-


It has been well said of Bertram Wooster that, while no one views his
flesh and blood with a keener and more remorselessly critical eye, he is