Stories by P. G. Wodehouse : Arthur's Classic Novels

Stories by P. G. Wodehouse

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Psmith Journalist
The guiding spirit of Cosy Moments was Mr. Wilberfloss. Circumstances had left the development of the paper mainly to him. For the past twelve months the proprietor had been away in Europe, taking the waters at Carlsbad

A Damsel In Distress
Maud came out of the house as the car disappeared down the long avenue of elms. She crossed the terrace to where Reggie sat brooding on life and its problem.

Love Among the Chickens
I had not met him for years, and, glad as I am, as a general thing, to see the friends of my youth when they drop in for a chat, I doubted whether I was quite equal to Ukridge at the moment. A stout fellow in both the physical and moral sense of the words, he was a trifle too jumpy for a man of my cloistered and intellectual life

Indiscretions of Archie
All the employes of the Hotel Cosmopolis were alert. It was one of the things on which Mr. Daniel Brewster, the proprietor, insisted. And as he was always wandering about the lobby of the hotel keeping a personal eye on affairs, it was never safe to relax.

The Intrusion of Jimmy
Everybody in the room on this July night had come from the theater. Most of those present had been acting, but a certain number had been to the opening performance of the latest better-than-Raffles play.

Piccadilly Jim
Through the rich interior of this mansion Mr. Pett, its nominal proprietor, was wandering like a lost spirit. The hour was about ten of a fine Sunday morning, but the Sabbath calm which was upon the house had not communicated itself to him.

Multiple Wodehouse I
It is a splendid thing to be seventeen and have one's hair up and feel that one cannot be kissed indiscriminately anymore by sticky boys and horrid old gentlemen who "knew you when you were that high

Plum Punch: Four Short Tales
Of all the young bachelors in his tribe not one was more highly esteemed than Ug, the son of Zug. He was one of the nicest young prehistoric men that ever sprang seven feet into the air to avoid the impulsive bite of a sabre-tooth tiger

Six Short Stories
Marjorie was sitting under the cedar on the tennis-lawn. It seemed to me that the best way of spending my morning would be to go and sit under the cedar on the tennis-lawn too.

Four More Short Stories
My family are a great anxiety to me. Sometimes when Saunders is doing my hair -- it's been up for ages -- nearly six months -- I look in the glass, and wonder why it's not grey -- the hair, I mean.

Multiple Wodehouse II
Quite without meaning it, I really won the Gentlemen v. Players match the summer I was eighteen. They don't say anything about me in the reports, but all the time I was really the thingummy

The Fifteenth Man
after having courted some village beauty with fair success through the summer, would find themselves completely cut out in the winter by a blade from Chalfont St. Peter's, purely on the strength of the latter's football.

The Pro: (A Cricket Story)
He told it to me in the knowledge that I would be unable to take any steps towards verifying his statements, for I had already informed him that I was only resting in the village for a few hours

The Reformation of Study Sixteen
Study sixteen was under discussion, not for the first time. Bellwood and Davies, its joint occupants, had been a thorn in Trevor's side ever since he had become captain of football.

Something New
Of all the spots in London which may fairly be described as backwaters there is none that answers so completely to the description as Arundel Street, Leicester Square.

Reginald's Record Knock
'I was thinking more of the dashing about in a hot sun while Reggie made his runs -- I'm all against too much exercise.'

A Prisoner Of War
Herbert's official position was that of odd-job man to the house which Mrs. Porter had taken for the summer in England. He had gone with the place as a sort of bonus.

The Spring Suit
beautiful and refined women are popping in and out all day like rabbits, something with a little more tone is required: and George landed the job against a field of twenty- six competitors.

Petticoat Influence
I could have told him millions of things, but I suppose if you don't like London it isn't any fun looking at the sort of sights I like to see.

Love Me, Love My Dog
Homicidal feelings surged up within John's bosom. This was the fourth time that day that Lord Bertie Fendall had interrupted just as he got Aline alone.

Ladies And Gentlemen V. Players
Quite without meaning it, I really won the Gentlemen v. Players match the summer I was eighteen. They don't say anything about me in the reports, but all the time I was really the thingummy

Keeping It From Harold
It was a constant source of amazement to Mrs. Bramble that she should have brought such a prodigy as Harold into the world.

A Job Of Work
Mr. Bivatt looked at Lord Freddie in silence. He belonged to the second and more offensive class of American millionaire. There are only two kinds.

Jackson's Extra
If you had told him that the country was on the brink of war he would have replied: "Really! After you with the paper." But tell him on the eve of the Ripton match that his best batsman was in extra lesson, and you really did interest him.

The Military Invasion Of America
To-day, it is hard to understand how even a City editor (notoriously one of the least intelligent of human beings) could have failed to detect in the lad's face the promise of future greatness.

Between The Innings
A steady downpour in the night, and the wicket would play easy for the first hour on the morrow, during which period our last three men might be expected to put on at least another fifty.

All About The Income Tax
I begin to see the other side. What the Government is going to do with it, I do not know -- I can only hope that they will not spend it on foolishness and nut sundaes and the movies

Creatures Of Impulse
The thought passed through Sir Godfrey's mind as he allowed his spoon to volplane slowly down into the golden lake that life was very pleasant. He had ample means. As a Colonial governor he had just that taste of power and authority which is enough for the sensible man

Homoeopathic Treatment
But otherwise the understanding seemed perfect. Both did a moderate amount of work, and both were perfectly willing to stop at a moment's notice, in order to play stump cricket or "soccer" in the passage.

The Guardian
"You'll be right enough if you don't go sticking on side. Don't forget that, however much of a blood you may have been at that rotten little private school of yours, you're not one at Eckleton."

Against The Clock: A Cricket Story
There is my brother Bob, for instance. He's much better, now, of course, for I have worked very hard on him; but when he first went to Oxford he was dreadful. He required the very firmest treatment on my part.

The Colour Line (The Golden Flaw)
On the cheek of the stout man who reclined in the barber's chair there still lingered a small patch of unreclaimed jungle. Lancelot Purvis removed this with his gleaming razor, and, stepping back, surveyed his handiwork

A Benefit Match
If I have one fault --which I am not prepared to admit --it is that I am too good-natured. I remember on one occasion, when staying in the country with a lady who had known me from boyhood, protesting in a restrained, gentlemanly manner

The Wire Pullers
It is a splendid thing to be seventeen and have one's hair up and feel that one cannot be kissed indiscriminately anymore by sticky boys and horrid old gentlemen who "knew you when you were that high, my dear," or who nursed you on their knees when you were a baby.

What is the Secret?

We must turn our inner selves to God.
Turn away from the person that wishes
all the pleasures of this world.
Ourselves.
What a waste to obtain the riches of
this place and lose the rewards of the next.

God will see to our enjoyment if we turn to Him.
But it must not be our goal.
Secrets are those things that people
refuse to discuss, to investigate.

How is it that a prophet comes and
no one listens?
How is it that guidance is given
and no one follows?

What is it with this world and these people?
They rush forward into life
without asking the questions.
Never could I understand persons living
without knowing their purpose.

A life circling and spiralling in a tailspin
Only asking, making some last minute cry
as life comes to a crash.

We are souls.
Can you not feel the convulsions as that person
seeks to free itself of the dirt of the city
Freeing itself of a society of darkness.

It wants the pleasures of deep union
Complete lowliness before God and
entire oneness with other like souls.
Ah, the Secret!

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