Hard-boiled egg

For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Paul Hampton Carry On, Jeeves, by P.G. Wodehouse.

Chapter Four: Jeeves and the Hard-Boiled Egg.

Sometimes of a morning, as I've sat in bed sucking down the early cup of tea and watched Jeeves flitting about the room and putting out the raiment for the day, I've wondered what the deuce I should do if the fellow ever took it into his head to leave me.

It's not so bad when I'm in New York, but in London, the anxiety is frightful.

You can spot it even in the way he shoves studs into a shirt.

I rely on him absolutely in every crisis, and he never lets me down, and what's more, he can always be counted on to extend himself on behalf of any pal of mine who happens to be, to all appearances, knee-deep in the bullion.

Take the rather rummy case, for instance, of dear old Bicky and his uncle, the Hard-Boiled Egg.

It happened after I'd been in America for a few months.