Aunts Aren't Gentlemen

• Praise for the Author
  
• About the Author
  
• By the Same Author
  
• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Title
  
• CHAPTER ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWO
  
• CHAPTER THREE
  
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
• CHAPTER SIX
  
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER NINE
  
• CHAPTER TEN
  
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY
  
• Extract: Service with a Smile
  
• www.wodehouse.co.uk
  

P. G. Wodehouse

'The ultimate in comfort reading because nothing bad ever happens
in P.G. Wodehouse land. Or even if it does, it's always sorted out
by the end of the book. For as long as I'm immersed in a P.G.
Wodehouse book, it's possible to keep the real world at bay and
live in a far, far nicer, funnier one where happy endings are the
order of the day'
Marian Keyes

'You should read Wodehouse when you're well and when you're
poorly; when you're travelling, and when you're not; when
you're feeling clever, and when you're feeling utterly dim.
Wodehouse always lifts your spirits, no matter how high they
happen to be already'
Lynne Truss

'P.G. Wodehouse remains the greatest chronicler of a certain kind
of Englishness, that no one else has ever captured quite so sharply,
or with quite as much wit and affection'
Julian Fellowes

'Not only the funniest English novelist who ever wrote but one of
our finest stylists. His world is perfect, his stories are perfect, his
writing is perfect. What more is there to be said?'
Susan Hill

'One of my (few) proud boasts is that I once spent a day interviewing
P.G. Wodehouse at his home in America. He was exactly as I'd
expected: a lovely, modest man. He could have walked out of one of
his own novels. It's dangerous to use the word genius to describe a
writer, but I'll risk it with him'
John Humphrys

'The incomparable and timeless genius – perfect for readers of all
ages, shapes and sizes!'
Kate Mosse

'A genius . . . Elusive, delicate but lasting. He created such a credible
world that, sadly, I suppose, never really existed but what a delight it
always is to enter it and the temptation to linger there is sometimes
almost overwhelming'
Alan Ayckbourn

'Wodehouse was quite simply the Bee's Knees. And then some'
Joseph Connolly

'Compulsory reading for anyone who has a pig, an aunt – or a sense
of humour!'
Lindsey Davis

'I constantly find myself drooling with admiration at the sublime
way Wodehouse plays with the English language'
Simon Brett

'I've recorded all the Jeeves books, and I can tell you this: it's like
singing Mozart. The perfection of the phrasing is a physical
pleasure. I doubt if any writer in the English language has more
perfect music'
Simon Callow

'Quite simply, the master of comic writing at work'
Jane Moore

'To pick up a Wodehouse novel is to find oneself in the presence of
genius – no writer has ever given me so much pure enjoyment'
John Julius Norwich

'P.G. Wodehouse is the gold standard of English wit'
Christopher
Hitchens

'Wodehouse is so utterly, properly, simply funny'
Adele Parks

'To dive into a Wodehouse novel is to swim in some of the most
elegantly turned phrases in the English language'
Ben Schott

'P.G. Wodehouse should be prescribed to treat depression.
Cheaper, more effective than valium and far, far more addictive'
Olivia Williams

'My only problem with Wodehouse is deciding which of his
enchanting books to take to my desert island'
Ruth Dudley Edwards

The author of almost a hundred books and the creator of
Jeeves, Blandings Castle, Psmith, Ukridge, Uncle Fred and
Mr Mulliner, P.G. Wodehouse was born in 1881 and educated
at Dulwich College. After two years with the Hong
Kong and Shanghai Bank he became a full-time writer,
contributing to a variety of periodicals including
Punch
and the
Globe
. He married in 1914. As well as his novels
and short stories, he wrote lyrics for musical comedies
with Guy Bolton and Jerome Kern, and at one time had
five musicals running simultaneously on Broadway. His time in
Hollywood also provided much source material for fiction.

At the age of 93, in the New Year's Honours List of 1975,
he received a long-overdue knighthood, only to die
on St Valentine 's Day some 45 days later.

Some of the P.G. Wodehouse titles to be published
by Arrow in 2008

J
EEVES

The Inimitable Jeeves
Carry On, Jeeves
Very Good, Jeeves
Thank You, Jeeves
Right Ho, Jeeves
The Code of the Woosters
Joy in the Morning
The Mating Season
Ring for Jeeves
Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit
Jeeves in the Offing
Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves
Much Obliged, Jeeves
Aunts Aren't Gentlemen

UNCLE FRED

Cocktail Time
Uncle Dynamite

BLANDINGS

Something Fresh
Leave it to Psmith
Summer Lightning
Blandings Castle
Uncle Fred in the Springtime
Full Moon
Pigs Have Wings
Service with a Smile
A Pelican at Blandings

MULLINER

Meet Mr Mulliner
Mulliner Nights
Mr Mulliner Speaking

GOLF

The Clicking of Cuthbert
The Heart of a Goof

OTHERS

Piccadilly Jim
Ukridge
The Luck of the Bodkins
Laughing Gas
A Damsel in Distress
The Small Bachelor
Hot Water
Summer Moonshine
The Adventures of Sally
Money for Nothing
The Girl in Blue
Big Money

P. G. WODEHOUSE

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

ISBN 9781409035190

Version 1.0

www.randomhouse.co.uk

Published by Arrow Books 2008

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Copyright by The Trustees of the Wodehouse Estate

All rights reserved

This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

First published in the United Kingdom in 1974 by Barrie & Jenkins Ltd

Arrow Books
The Random House Group Limited
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, SW1V 2SA

www.rbooks.co.uk

www.wodehouse.co.uk

Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be
found at:
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library

ISBN: 9781409035190

Version 1.0

Aunts Aren't
Gentlemen

My attention was drawn to the spots on my chest when I
was in my bath, singing, if I remember rightly, the
Toreador song from the opera
Carmen.
They were pink in
colour, rather like the first faint flush of dawn, and I viewed
them with concern. I am not a fussy man, but I do object to
being freckled like a pard, as I once heard Jeeves describe it, a
pard, I take it, being something in the order of one of those
dogs beginning with d.

'Jeeves,' I said at the breakfast table, 'I've got spots on my
chest.'

'Indeed, sir?'

'Pink.'

'Indeed, sir?'

'I don't like them.'

'A very understandable prejudice, sir. Might I enquire if
they itch?'

'Sort of.'

'I would not advocate scratching them.'

'I disagree with you. You have to take a firm line with spots.
Remember what the poet said.'

'Sir?'

'The poet Ogden Nash. The poem he wrote defending the
practice of scratching. Who was Barbara Frietchie, Jeeves?'

'A lady of some prominence in the American war between
the States, sir.'

'A woman of strong character? One you could rely on?'

'So I have always understood, sir.'

'Well, here's what the poet Nash wrote. "I'm greatly
attached to Barbara Frietchie. I'll bet she scratched when she
was itchy." But I shall not be content with scratching. I shall
place myself in the hands of a competent doctor.'

'A very prudent decision, sir.'

The trouble was that, except for measles when I was just
starting out, I've always been so fit that I didn't know any
doctors. Then I remembered that my American pal, Tipton
Plimsoll, with whom I had been dining last night to celebrate
his betrothal to Veronica, only daughter of Colonel and Lady
Hermione Wedge of Blandings Castle, Shropshire, had
mentioned one who had once done him a bit of good. I went
to the telephone to get his name and address.

Tipton did not answer my ring immediately, and when he
did it was to reproach me for waking him at daybreak. But
after he had got this off his chest and I had turned the
conversation to mine he was most helpful. It was with the
information I wanted that I returned to Jeeves.

'I've just been talking to Mr Plimsoll, Jeeves, and everything
is straight now. He bids me lose no time in establishing contact with a medico
of the name of E. Jimpson Murgatroyd. He says if I want a sunny practitioner
who will prod me in the ribs with his stethoscope and tell me an anecdote
about two Irishmen named Pat and Mike and then another about two Scotsmen
named Mac and Sandy, E. Jimpson is not my man, but if what I'm after is someone
to cure my spots, he unquestionably is, as he knows his spots from A to Z
and has been treating them since he was so high. It seems that Tipton had
the same trouble not long ago and Murgatroyd fixed him up in no time. So while
I am getting out of these clothes into something more spectacular will you
give him a buzz and make an appointment.'

When I had doffed the sweater and flannels in which I had
breakfasted, Jeeves informed me that E. Jimpson could see me
at eleven, and I thanked him and asked him to tell the garage
to send the car round at ten-forty-five.

'Somewhat earlier than that, sir,' he said, 'if I might make
the suggestion. The traffic. Would it not be better to take a cab?'

'No, and I'll tell you why. After I've seen the doc, I thought
Imight drive down to Brighton and get a spot of sea air. I don't
suppose the traffic will be any worse than usual, will it?'

'I fear so, sir. A protest march is taking place this morning.'

'What, again? They seem to have them every hour on the
hour these days, don't they?'

'They are certainly not infrequent, sir.'

'Any idea what they're protesting about?'

'I could not say, sir. It might be one thing or it might be
another. Men are suspicious, prone to discontent. Subjects still
loathe the present Government.'

'The poet Nash?'

'No, sir. The poet Herrick.'

'Pretty bitter.'

'Yes, sir.'

'I wonder what they had done to him to stir him up like
that. Probably fined him five quid for failing to abate a smoky
chimney.'

'As to that I have no information, sir.'

Seated in the old sports model some minutes later and
driving to keep my tryst with E. Jimpson Murgatroyd, I was
feeling singularly light-hearted for a man with spots on his
chest. It was a beautiful morning, and it wouldn't have taken
much to make me sing Tra-la as I bowled along. Then I came
abaft of the protest march and found myself becalmed. I
leaned back and sat observing the proceedings with a kindly
eye.