Psmith in the City

Psmith in the City, by P. G. Wodehouse

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Title: Psmith in the City
Author: P. G. Wodehouse
Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6753] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on January 23, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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Psmith in the City

by P. G. Wodehouse

[Dedication] to Leslie Havergal Bradshaw

Contents
1. Mr Bickersdyke Walks behind the Bowler's Arm
2. Mike Hears Bad News
3. The New Era Begins
4. First Steps in a Business Career
5. The Other Man
6. Psmith Explains
7. Going into Winter Quarters
8. The Friendly Native
9. The Haunting of Mr Bickersdyke
10. Mr Bickersdyke Addresses His Constituents
11. Misunderstood
12. In a Nutshell
13. Mike is Moved On
14. Mr Waller Appears in a New Light
15. Stirring Times on the Common
16. Further Developments
17. Sunday Supper
18. Psmith Makes a Discovery
19. The Illness of Edward
20. Concerning a Cheque
21. Psmith Makes Inquiries
22. And Takes Steps
23. Mr Bickersdyke Makes a Concession
24. The Spirit of Unrest
25. At the Telephone
26. Breaking the News
27. At Lord's
28. Psmith Arranges His Future
29. And Mike's
30. The Last Sad Farewells

1. Mr Bickersdyke Walks behind the Bowler's Arm
Considering what a prominent figure Mr John Bickersdyke was to be in Mike Jackson's life, it was only appropriate that he should make a dramatic entry into it. This he did by walking behind the bowler's arm when Mike had scored ninety-eight, causing him thereby to be clean bowled by a long-hop.
It was the last day of the Ilsworth cricket week, and the house team were struggling hard on a damaged wicket. During the first two matches of the week all had been well. Warm sunshine, true wickets, tea in the shade of the trees. But on the Thursday night, as the team champed their dinner contentedly after defeating the Incogniti by two wickets, a pattering of rain made itself heard upon the windows. By bedtime it had settled to a steady downpour. On Friday morning, when the team of the local regiment arrived in their brake, the sun was shining once more in a watery, melancholy way, but play was not possible before lunch. After lunch the bowlers were in their element. The regiment, winning the toss, put together a hundred and thirty, due principally to a last wicket stand between two enormous corporals, who swiped at everything and had luck enough for two whole teams. The house team followed with seventy-eight, of which Psmith, by his usual golf methods, claimed thirty. Mike, who had gone in first as the star bat of the side, had been run out with great promptitude off the first ball of the innings, which his partner had hit in the immediate neighbourhood of point. At close of play the regiment had made five without loss. This, on the Saturday morning, helped by another shower of rain which made the wicket easier for the moment, they had increased to a hundred and forty-eight, leaving the house just two hundred to make on a pitch which looked as if it were made of linseed.
It was during this week that Mike had first made the acquaintance of Psmith's family. Mr Smith had moved from Shropshire, and taken Ilsworth Hall in a neighbouring county. This he had done, as far as could be ascertained, simply because he had a poor opinion of Shropshire cricket. And just at the moment cricket happened to be the pivot of his life.
'My father,' Psmith had confided to Mike, meeting him at the station in the family motor on the Monday, 'is a man of vast but volatile brain. He has not that calm, dispassionate outlook on life which marks your true philosopher, such as myself. I--'
'I say,' interrupted Mike, eyeing Psmith's movements with apprehension, 'you aren't going to drive, are you?'
'Who else? As I was saying, I am like some