A Bertie and Jeeves classic, featuring novelist Florence Craye, a pearl necklace, and The Mystery of the Pink Crayfish. Bertie is in a genuine fix. Not only does Jeeves disapprove most strongly of Bertie's new mustache, but also, and more disturbingly, "Stilton" Cheesewright is in a jealous rage and threatens to tear him limb from limb. In Bertie Wooster Sees It Through, more than ever, Bertie needs the wisdom of the peerless Jeeves to extricate him from this perilous situation. Will Jeeves rally to the cause and rescue his employer once again? Christopher Buckley author of Little Green Men It is impossible to be unhappy while reading the adventures of Jeeves and Wooster. And I've tried. Kurt Andersen author of Turn of the Century Wodehouse can be extremely funny, of course, and Bertie and Jeeves are echt-Englishmen, but the surprising and surpassing pleasure of these books is their cheerful humanity. Reading Wodehouse always makes me feel good. David Foster Wallace author of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men Timelessly funny and mean. Evelyn Waugh Mr. Wodehouse's idyllic world can never stale. He will continue to release future generations from captivity that may be more irksome than our own. He has made a world for us to live in and delight in. "It is impossible to be unhappy while reading the adventures of Jeeves and Wooster. And I've tried."--Christopher Buckley, author of "Little Green Men" "Wodehouse can be extremely funny, of course, and Bertie and Jeeves are echt-Englishmen, but the surprising and surpassing pleasure of these books is their cheerful humanity. Reading Wodehouse always makes me feel good."—Kurt Andersen, author of "Turn of the Century" "Timelessly funny and mean."—David Foster Wallace, author of "Brief Interviews with Hideous Men" "Mr. Wodehouse's idyllic world can never stale. He will continue to release future generations from captivity that may be more irksome than our own. He has made a world for us to live in and delight in."—Evelyn Waugh A Bertie and Jeeves classic, featuring novelist Florence Craye, a pearl necklace, and The Mystery of the Pink Crayfish. Bertie is in a genuine fix. Not only does Jeeves disapprove most strongly of Bertie's new mustache, but also, and more disturbingly, "Stilton" Cheesewright is in a jealous rage and threatens to tear him limb from limb. In Bertie Wooster Sees It Through, more than ever, Bertie needs the wisdom of the peerless Jeeves to extricate him from this perilous situation. Will Jeeves rally to the cause and rescue his employer once again? Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (1881-1975) was an English humorist who wrote novels, short stories, plays, lyrics, and essays, all with the same light touch of gentle satire. He is best known as the creator of the bumbling Bertie Wooster and his all-knowing valet, Jeeves. Chapter 1 As I sat in the bath tub, soaping a meditative foot and singing, if I remember correctly, "Pale Hands I Loved Beside The Shalimar," it would be deceiving my public to say that I was feeling boomps-a-daisy. The evening that lay before me promised to be one of those sticky evenings, no good to man or beast. My Aunt Dahlia, writing from her country residence, Brinkley Court down in Worcestershire, had asked me as a personal favor to take some acquaintances of hers out to dinner, a couple of the name of Trotter. They were, she said, creeps of the first water and would bore the pants off me, but it was imperative that they be given the old oil, because she was in the middle of a very tricky business deal with the male half of the sketch and at such times every little helps. "Don't fail me, my beautiful bountiful Bertie," her letter had concluded, on a note of poignant appeal. Well, this Dahlia is my good and deserving aunt, not to be confused with Aunt Agatha, the one who kills rats with her teeth and devours her young, so when she says Don't fail me, I don't fail her. But, as I say, I was in no sense looking forward to the binge. The view I took of it was that the curse had come upon me. It had done so, moreover, at a moment when I was already lowered spiritually by the fact that for the last couple of weeks or so Jeeves had been away on his summer holiday. Round about the beginning of July each year he downs tools, the slacker, and goes off to Bognor Regis for the shrimping, leaving me in much the same position as those poets one used to have to read at school who were always beefing about losing gazelles. For without this righthand man at his side Bertram Wooster becomes a mere shadow of his former self and in no condition to cope with any ruddy Trotters. Brooding darkly on these Trotters, whoever they might be, I was starting to scour the left elbow and had switched to "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life," when my reverie was interrupted by the sound of a soft footstep in the bedroom, and I sat up, alert and, as you might say, agog, the soap frozen in my grasp. If feet were stepping softly in my sleeping quarters