“I have already had occasion, Jeeves,” I said rebukingly, “to comment
on the way you say ‘Well, sir’ and ‘Indeed, sir?’ I take this
opportunity of informing you that I object equally strongly to your
‘Sir?’ pure and simple. The word seems to suggest that in your opinion
I have made a statement or mooted a scheme so bizarre that your brain
reels at it. In the present instance, there is absolutely nothing to
say ‘Sir?’ about. The plan I have put forward is entirely reasonable
and icily logical, and should excite no sirring whatsoever. Or don’t
you think so?”
“Well, sir----”
“Jeeves!”
“I beg your pardon, sir. The expression escaped me inadvertently. What
I intended to say, since you press me, was that the action which you
propose does seem to me somewhat injudicious.”
“Injudicious? I don’t follow you, Jeeves.”
“A certain amount of risk would enter into it, in my opinion, sir.
It is not always a simple matter to gauge the effect of alcohol on
a subject unaccustomed to such stimulant. I have known it to have
distressing results in the case of parrots.”
“Parrots?”
“I was thinking of an incident of my earlier life, sir, before I
entered your employment. I was in the service of the late Lord
Brancaster at the time, a gentleman who owned a parrot to which he was
greatly devoted, and one day the bird chanced to be lethargic, and his
lordship, with the kindly intention of restoring it to its customary
animation, offered it a portion of seed cake steeped in the ’84 port.
The bird accepted the morsel gratefully and consumed it with every
indication of satisfaction. Almost immediately afterwards, however,
its manner became markedly feverish. Having bitten his lordship in the
thumb and sung part of a sea-chanty, it fell to the bottom of the cage
and remained there for a considerable period of time with its legs in
the air, unable to move. I merely mention this, sir, in order to----”