Humorous stories; Ukridge, Stanley Featherstonehaugh (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“Laddie,” said Ukridge, “if there’s one thing about you that I’ve
always admired it’s your readiness to help a pal. One of the most
admirable qualities a bloke can possess, and nobody has it to a
greater extent than you. You’re practically unique in that way.
I’ve had men come up to me and ask me about you. ‘What sort of a
chap is he?’ they say. ‘One of the very best,’ I reply. ‘A fellow
you can rely on. A man who would die rather than let you down. A
bloke who would go through fire and water to do a pal a good turn.
A bird with a heart of gold and a nature as true as steel.’”
“Yes, I’m a splendid fellow,” I agreed, slightly perplexed by this
panegyric. “Get on.”
“I am getting on, old horse,” said Ukridge with faint reproach.
“What I’m trying to say is that I knew you would be delighted to
tackle this little job for me. It wasn’t necessary to ask you. I
_knew_.”
A grim foreboding of an awful doom crept over me, as it had done
so often before in my association with Ukridge.
“Will you kindly tell me what damned thing you’ve let me in for
now?”
Ukridge deprecated my warmth with a wave of his fork. He spoke
soothingly and with a winning persuasiveness. He practically cooed.
“It’s nothing, laddie. Practically nothing. Just a simple little
act of kindness which you will thank me for putting in your way.
It’s like this. As I ought to have foreseen from the first, that
ass Tuppy proved a broken reed. In that matter of Dora, you know.
Got no result whatever. He went to see my aunt the day before
yesterday, and asked her to take Dora on again, and she gave him
the miss-in-balk. I’m not surprised. I never had any confidence in
Tuppy. It was a mistake ever sending him. It’s no good trying
frontal attack in a delicate business like this. What you need is
strategy. You want to think what is the enemy’s weak side and then
attack from that angle. Now, what is my aunt’s weak side, laddie?
Her weak side, what is it? Now think. Reflect, old horse.”
“From the sound of her voice, the only time I ever got near her,
I should say she hadn’t one.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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