Psmith in the City. P. G. Wodehouse. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: P. G. Wodehouse
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 4057664121011
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       P. G. Wodehouse

      Psmith in the City

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664121011

       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 Take 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

       Table of Contents

      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 contented spectator of a Pageant. My pater wants to jump in and stage-manage. He is a man of hobbies. He never has more than one at a time, and he never has that long. But while he has it, it's all there. When I left the house this morning he was all for cricket. But by the time we get to the ground he may have chucked cricket and taken up the Territorial Army. Don't be surprised if you find the wicket being dug up into trenches, when we arrive, and the pro. moving in echelon towards the pavilion. No,' he added, as the car turned into the drive, and they caught a glimpse of white flannels and blazers in the distance, and heard the sound of bat meeting ball, 'cricket seems still to be topping the bill.