treatment with
whale-oil solution; and the stricken cow had taken a sudden turn
for the better, and at last advices was sitting up and taking
nourishment with something of the old appetite. Moreover, as
he stroked his shaven chin, his lordship felt a better, lighter man,
as if some burden had fallen from him.
And yet, as he sat there, a frown was on his forehead.
He rang the bell.
'M'lord?'
Lord Emsworth looked at his faithful butler with appreciation.
Deuce of a long time Beach had been at the Castle, and
would, no doubt, be there for many a year to come. A good
fellow. Lord Emsworth had liked the way the man's eyes had
lighted up on his return, as if the sight of his employer had
removed a great weight from his mind.
'Oh, Beach,' said his lordship, 'kindly put in a trunk-call to
London on the telephone.'
'Very good, m'lord.'
'Get through to Suite Number Sixty-seven at the Savoy
Hotel, and speak to Mr Frederick.'
'Yes, your lordship.'
'Say that I particularly wish to know how that scenario of his
ended.'
'Scenario, your lordship?'
'Scenario.'
'Very good, m'lord.'
Lord Emsworth returned to his reverie. Time passed. The
butler returned.
'I have spoken to Mr Frederick, your lordship.'
'Yes?'
'He instructed me to give your lordship his best wishes, and to
tell you that, when the millionaire and Mr Cove's wife entered
the bedroom, there was a black jaguar tied to the foot of the bed.'
'A jaguar?'
'A jaguar, your lordship. Mrs Cove stated that it was there to
protect her honour, whereupon the millionaire, touched by this,
gave her the money, and they sang the Theme Song as a duet.
Mr Cove made a satisfactory recovery after his operation, your
lordship.'
Ah!' said Lord Emsworth, expelling a deep breath. 'Thank
you, Beach, that is all.'
3 PIG-HOO-O-O-O-EY!
T HANKS to the publicity given to the matter by The Bridgnorth,
Shifnal, and Albrighton Argus (with which is incorporated The Wheat-Growers' Intelligencer and Stock Breeders' Gazetteer), the whole world to-day knows that the silver medal in the Fat
Pigs class at the eighty-seventh annual Shropshire Agricultural
Show was won by the Earl of Emsworth's black Berkshire sow,
Empress of Blandings.
Very few people, however, are aware how near that splendid
animal came to missing the coveted honour.
Now it can be told.
This brief chapter of Secret History may be said to have
begun on the night of the eighteenth of July, when George
Cyril Wellbeloved (twenty-nine), pig-man in the employ of
Lord Emsworth, was arrested by Police-Constable Evans
of Market Blandings for being drunk and disorderly in the
tap-room of the Goat and Feathers. On July the nineteenth,
after first offering to apologize, then explaining that it had been
his birthday, and finally attempting to prove an alibi, George
Cyril was very properly jugged for fourteen days without the
option of a fine.
On July the twentieth, Empress of Blandings, always hitherto
a hearty and even a boisterous feeder, for the first time on record
declined all nourishment. And on the morning of July the
twenty-first, the veterinary surgeon called in to diagnose
and deal with this strange asceticism, was compelled to confess
to Lord Emsworth that the thing was beyond his professional
skill.
Let us just see, before proceeding, that we have got these
dates correct:
July 18. – Birthday Orgy of Cyril Wellbeloved.
July 19. – Incarceration of Ditto.
July 20. – Pig Lays off the Vitamins.
July 21. – Veterinary Surgeon Baffled.
Right.
The effect of the veterinary surgeon's announcement on Lord
Emsworth was overwhelming. As a rule, the wear and tear of our
complex modern life left this vague and amiable peer unscathed.
So long as he had sunshine, regular meals, and complete freedom
from the society of his younger son Frederick, he was
placidly happy. But there were chinks in his armour, and one
of these had been pierced this morning. Dazed by the news he
had received, he stood at the window of the great library
whale-oil solution; and the stricken cow had taken a sudden turn
for the better, and at last advices was sitting up and taking
nourishment with something of the old appetite. Moreover, as
he stroked his shaven chin, his lordship felt a better, lighter man,
as if some burden had fallen from him.
And yet, as he sat there, a frown was on his forehead.
He rang the bell.
'M'lord?'
Lord Emsworth looked at his faithful butler with appreciation.
Deuce of a long time Beach had been at the Castle, and
would, no doubt, be there for many a year to come. A good
fellow. Lord Emsworth had liked the way the man's eyes had
lighted up on his return, as if the sight of his employer had
removed a great weight from his mind.
'Oh, Beach,' said his lordship, 'kindly put in a trunk-call to
London on the telephone.'
'Very good, m'lord.'
'Get through to Suite Number Sixty-seven at the Savoy
Hotel, and speak to Mr Frederick.'
'Yes, your lordship.'
'Say that I particularly wish to know how that scenario of his
ended.'
'Scenario, your lordship?'
'Scenario.'
'Very good, m'lord.'
Lord Emsworth returned to his reverie. Time passed. The
butler returned.
'I have spoken to Mr Frederick, your lordship.'
'Yes?'
'He instructed me to give your lordship his best wishes, and to
tell you that, when the millionaire and Mr Cove's wife entered
the bedroom, there was a black jaguar tied to the foot of the bed.'
'A jaguar?'
'A jaguar, your lordship. Mrs Cove stated that it was there to
protect her honour, whereupon the millionaire, touched by this,
gave her the money, and they sang the Theme Song as a duet.
Mr Cove made a satisfactory recovery after his operation, your
lordship.'
Ah!' said Lord Emsworth, expelling a deep breath. 'Thank
you, Beach, that is all.'
3 PIG-HOO-O-O-O-EY!
T HANKS to the publicity given to the matter by The Bridgnorth,
Shifnal, and Albrighton Argus (with which is incorporated The Wheat-Growers' Intelligencer and Stock Breeders' Gazetteer), the whole world to-day knows that the silver medal in the Fat
Pigs class at the eighty-seventh annual Shropshire Agricultural
Show was won by the Earl of Emsworth's black Berkshire sow,
Empress of Blandings.
Very few people, however, are aware how near that splendid
animal came to missing the coveted honour.
Now it can be told.
This brief chapter of Secret History may be said to have
begun on the night of the eighteenth of July, when George
Cyril Wellbeloved (twenty-nine), pig-man in the employ of
Lord Emsworth, was arrested by Police-Constable Evans
of Market Blandings for being drunk and disorderly in the
tap-room of the Goat and Feathers. On July the nineteenth,
after first offering to apologize, then explaining that it had been
his birthday, and finally attempting to prove an alibi, George
Cyril was very properly jugged for fourteen days without the
option of a fine.
On July the twentieth, Empress of Blandings, always hitherto
a hearty and even a boisterous feeder, for the first time on record
declined all nourishment. And on the morning of July the
twenty-first, the veterinary surgeon called in to diagnose
and deal with this strange asceticism, was compelled to confess
to Lord Emsworth that the thing was beyond his professional
skill.
Let us just see, before proceeding, that we have got these
dates correct:
July 18. – Birthday Orgy of Cyril Wellbeloved.
July 19. – Incarceration of Ditto.
July 20. – Pig Lays off the Vitamins.
July 21. – Veterinary Surgeon Baffled.
Right.
The effect of the veterinary surgeon's announcement on Lord
Emsworth was overwhelming. As a rule, the wear and tear of our
complex modern life left this vague and amiable peer unscathed.
So long as he had sunshine, regular meals, and complete freedom
from the society of his younger son Frederick, he was
placidly happy. But there were chinks in his armour, and one
of these had been pierced this morning. Dazed by the news he
had received, he stood at the window of the great library
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