“But why do you want me? I mean, what am I? Ask yourself that.”
“I often have.”
“I mean to say, I’m not the type. You have to have some terrific nib
to give away prizes. I seem to remember, when I was at school, it was
generally a prime minister or somebody.”
“Ah, but that was at Eton. At Market Snodsbury we aren’t nearly so
choosy. Anybody in spats impresses us.”
“Why don’t you get Uncle Tom?”
“Uncle Tom!”
“Well, why not? He’s got spats.”
“Bertie,” she said, “I will tell you why not Uncle Tom. You remember me
losing all that money at baccarat at Cannes? Well, very shortly I shall
have to sidle up to Tom and break the news to him. If, right after
that, I ask him to put on lavender gloves and a topper and distribute
the prizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar School, there will be a divorce
in the family. He would pin a note to the pincushion and be off like a
rabbit. No, my lad, you’re for it, so you may as well make the best of
it.”
“But, Aunt Dahlia, listen to reason. I assure you, you’ve got hold
of the wrong man. I’m hopeless at a game like that. Ask Jeeves about
the time I got lugged in to address a girls’ school. I made the most
colossal ass of myself.”
“And I confidently anticipate that you will make an equally colossal
ass of yourself on the thirty-first of this month. That’s why I want
you. The way I look at it is that, as the thing is bound to be a frost,
anyway, one may as well get a hearty laugh out of it. I shall enjoy
seeing you distribute those prizes, Bertie. Well, I won’t keep you, as,
no doubt, you want to do your Swedish exercises. I shall expect you in
a day or two.”
And with these heartless words she beetled off, leaving me a prey to
the gloomiest emotions. What with the natural reaction after Pongo’s
party and this stunning blow, it is not too much to say that the soul
was seared.
And I was still writhing in the depths, when the door opened and Jeeves
appeared.
“Mr. Fink-Nottle to see you, sir,” he announced.
-5-