Drones Club

And I have very fond memories of my childhood, either with myself on the porch reading one of the short stories to my father or he reading reading one of them to me at bedtime.

And I particularly love The Drones Club, particularly love Jeeves.

And I haven't done a dive into many of his other novels or earlier works.

So I'm really excited to spark up that level of interest again.

It's pure 1920s Soviet kitsch, uh, that looks almost balletic with sort of Stalin, who's about three times life-size, towering above a group of adoring schoolchildren, uh, who appear to be sort of dancers in the Bolshoi.

And Stalin's standing there with his hand on his chest, rather like sort of certain images of Bertie Wooster standing against a fireplace in the Drones Club.

Uh, what, [laughs] what on earth is going on, and why is, why is Putin indulging Stalin in this way?

Okay, so I mean, you, you, you think it's giving sort of, you know, Bertie Wooster vibes.

You might give the place a glance as you pass, but you would certainly not pause and stand staring at it as at the Sistine Chapel or the Taj Mahal.

Yet at ten-thirty on the morning after Eve Halliday had taken tea with her friend Phyllis Jackson in West Kensington, P. Smith, lounging gracefully in the smoking-room window of the Drones Club, which is immediately opposite the Thorpe & Briscoe establishment, had been gazing at it fixedly for a full five minutes.

One would have said that the spectacle enthralled him.

He seemed unable to take his eyes off of it.

Leave it to Smith by P.G. Wodehouse.

Chapter four.

Painful scene at the Drones Club.

Meanwhile, at the Drones Club, a rather painful scene had been taking place.

About the front of the premises of Messrs Thorpe & Briscoe, for instance, who sell coal in Dover Street, there is as a rule nothing whatever to attract fascinated attention.

You might give the place a glance as you passed, but you would certainly not pause and stand staring at it as at the Sistine Chapel or the Taj Mahal Yet at ten thirty on the morning after Eve Halliday had taken tea with her friend Phyllis Jackson in West Kensington Psmith lounging gracefully in the smoking room window of the Drones Club which is immediately opposite the Thorpe & Briscoe establishment had been gazing at it fixedly for a full five minutes One would have said that the spectacle enthralled him He seemed unable to take his eyes off it There is always a reason for the most apparently inexplicable happenings It is the practice of Thorpe (or Briscoe) during the months of summer to run out an awning over the shop A quiet genteel awning of course Nothing to offend the eye But an awning which offers quite adequate protection against those sudden showers which are such a delightfully piquant feature of the English summer one of which had just begun to sprinkle the west end of London with a good deal of haughtiness and vigour And under this awning peering plaintively out at the rain Eve Halliday On her way to the Ada Clarkson Employment Bureau Had Taken Refuge.

It Was She Who Had So Enchained P Smith’S Interest.

It Was His Considered Opinion That She Improved The Thorpe & Briscoe Frontage By About Ninety Five Per Cent Pleased And Gratified As P Smith Was To Have Something Nice To Look At Out Of The Smoking Room Window He Was Also Somewhat puzzledThis Girl Seemed To Him To Radiate An Atmosphere Of Wealth Starting At Farthest South And Proceeding NorthwardShe Began In A Gleam Of Patent Leather ShoesFawn Stockings Obviously Expensive Led Up To A Black Crepe FrockAnd Then Just As The Eye Was Beginning To Feel That There Could Be Nothing MoreIt Was Stunned By A Supreme Hat Of Soft Dull Satin With A Black Bird Of Paradise Feather Falling Down Over The Left ShoulderEven To The Masculine Eye Which Is Notoriously To Seek In These MattersA Whale Of A Hat And yet this sumptuously upholstered young woman had been marooned by a shower of rain beneath the awning of Messrs Thorpe & Briscoe Why Psmith asked himself was this Even he argued If Charles the chauffeur had been given the day off Or was driving her father the millionaireTo the City to attend to his vast interests she could surely afford a cab fare We who are familiar with the state of Eve’s finances can understand her inability to take cabsBut Psmith was frankly perplexed Being however both ready witted and chivalroushe perceived that this was no time for idle speculationHis not to reason why His obvious duty was to take steps to assist Beauty in distress.

I expect the waiting room is full of dukes who want cooks and cooks who want Dukes All fidgeting and wondering how much Longer you are going to Keep them Good bye Darling And having kissed Miss Clarkson fondly and straightened Her hat which the other’s motherly embrace had disarranged Eve left the room End of chapter three

Chapter Four of Leave It to Smith This is a LibriVox recording.

All Libri Vox recordings are in the public domain For More Information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org Recording by Grace Buchanan leave IT to smith BY P G Woodhouse Chapter four Painful Scene at the drones club Meanwhile at the Drones Club a rather painful scene had been taking place.

Smith regaining the shelter of the building had made his way to the washroom where Having studied his features with interest for a moment in the mirror He smoothed His hair Which the rain had somewhat disordered And brushed his clothes with extreme care He then went to the cloak room for his hat The attendant regarded him as he entered With the air of one whose mind Is not wholly at rest Mr Waldrick was in here a moment ago sir Said the Attendant yes said Smith mildly interested An energetic bustling soul Comrade Waldrick Always somewhere Now Here now There Asking about his umbrella he was Pursued the attendant with a Touch of Coldness Indeed asking About his Umbrella eh Made a great fuss about it Sir he Did "And rightly," said Smith with approval.