A Few Quick Ones by P. G. Wodehouse

Author:P. G. Wodehouse [Wodehouse, P. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humour
ISBN: 9781590202333
Publisher: Everyman
Published: 1959-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

6

Big Business

IN a corner of the bar parlour of the Angler's Rest a rather heated dispute had arisen between a Small Bass and a Light Lager. Their voices rose angrily.

"Old," said the Small Bass.

"Ol’," said the Light Later.

"Bet you a million pounds it's Old."

"Bet you a million trillion pounds it's Ol’'."

Mr. Mulliner looked up indulgently from his hot Scotch and lemon. On occasions like this he is usually called in to arbitrate.

"What is the argument, gentlemen?"

"It's about that song Old Man River," said the Small Bass.

"Ol’ Man River," insisted the Light Lager. "He says it's Old Man River, I say it's Ol' Man River. Who's right?"

"In my opinion," said Mr. Mulliner, "both of you. Mr. Oscar Hammerstein, who wrote that best of all lyrics, preferred Ol’, but I believe the two readings are considered equally correct. My nephew sometimes employed one, sometimes the other, according to the whim of the moment."

"Which nephew was that?"

"Reginald, the son of my late brother. He sang the song repeatedly, and at the time of that sudden change in his fortunes was billed to render it at the annual village concert at Lower-Smattering-on-the-Wissel in Worcestershire, where he maintained a modest establishment."

"His fortunes changed, did they?"

"Quite remarkably. He was rehearsing the number in an undertone over the breakfast eggs and bacon one morning, when he heard the postman's knock and went to the door.

"Oh, hullo, Bagshot," he said. "Shift that trunk."

"Sir?"

"Lift that bale."

"To what bale do you refer, sir?"

"Get a little drunk and you…Oh, sorry," said Reginald, "I was thinking of something else. Forget I spoke. Is that a letter for me?"

"Yes, sir. Registered."

Reginald signed for the letter and, turning it over, saw that the name and address on the back of the envelope were those of Watson, Watson, Watson, Watson and Watson of Lincoln's Inn Fields. He opened it, and found within a communication requesting him to call on the gang at his earliest convenience, when he would hear of something to his advantage.

Something to his advantage being always what he was glad to hear of, he took train to London, called at Lincoln's Inn Fields, and you could have knocked him down with a toothpick when Watson - or Watson or Watson or Watson, or it may have been Watson - informed him that under the will of a cousin in the Argentine, whom he had not seen for years, he had benefited to the extent of fifty thousand pounds. It is not surprising that on receipt of this news he reeled and would have fallen, had he not clutched at a passing Watson. It was enough to stagger anyone, especially someone who, like Reginald, had never been strong in the head. Apart from his ability to sing Old Man River, probably instinctive, he was not a very gifted young man. Amanda Biffen, the girl he loved, though she admired his looks - for, like all the Mulliners, he was extraordinarily handsome - had never wavered in her view that if men were dominoes, he would have been the double blank.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.