The Clicking of CuthbertWodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
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The Clicking of Cuthbert
Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
Golf stories; Humorous stories
I saw the girl's eyes flash, and there came into her face that peculiar
set expression which married men know. It passed in an instant, but not
before it had given me material for thought which lasted me all the way
to my house and into the silent watches of the night. I was fond of
Mortimer Sturgis, and I could see trouble ahead for him as plainly as
though I had been a palmist reading his hand at two guineas a visit.
There are other proverbs fully as wise as the one which Mortimer had
translated from the Swahili, and one of the wisest is that quaint old
East London saying, handed down from one generation of costermongers to
another, and whispered at midnight in the wigwams of the whelk-seller!
"Never introduce your donah to a pal." In those seven words is
contained the wisdom of the ages. I could read the future so plainly.
What but one thing could happen after Mortimer had influenced Betty's
imagination with his stories of his friend's romantic career, and added
the finishing touch by advertising him as a woman-hater? He might just
as well have asked for his ring back at once. My heart bled for
Mortimer.
* * * *
I happened to call at his house on the second evening of the explorer's
visit, and already the mischief had been done.
Denton was one of those lean, hard-bitten men with smouldering eyes and
a brick-red complexion. He looked what he was, the man of action and
enterprise. He had the wiry frame and strong jaw without which no
explorer is complete, and Mortimer, beside him, seemed but a poor, soft
product of our hot-house civilization. Mortimer, I forgot to say, wore
glasses; and, if there is one time more than another when a man should
not wear glasses, it is while a strong-faced, keen-eyed wanderer in the
wilds is telling a beautiful girl the story of his adventures.
For this was what Denton was doing. My arrival seemed to have
interrupted him in the middle of narrative. He shook my hand in a
strong, silent sort of way, and resumed:
"Well, the natives seemed fairly friendly, so I decided to stay the
night."
I made a mental note never to seem fairly friendly to an explorer. If
you do, he always decides to stay the night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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