Magazine article The Spectator

Jeeves and the Cap That Fits

Magazine article The Spectator

Jeeves and the Cap That Fits

Article excerpt

A story about Bertie Wooster and a man called The Donald, with apologies to P.G. Wodehouse

The Secret Service said it would investigate Donald J. Trump's longtime butler over Facebook posts laced with vulgarities and epithets calling for President Obama to be killed.

-- New York Times , 12 May 2016

I had only just risen from a deep slumber, when in shimmied Jeeves with the cup that cheers.

'Does the day look fruity, Jeeves?' I yawned.

'Indeed, sir,' he assented, opening the curtains to an expanse of cloudless sky, 'decidedly clement.'

'Perfect conditions for a perusal of the racing form in the long grass, would you say?'

'I would, sir. However your aunt has asked me to inform you that she desires you to entertain a guest this morning.'

'A guest? What guest? I thought we were all alone at Brinkley this weekend.'

'The guest is Mr Trump, sir. An American. He arrived with his butler in the early hours.'

'Was that the infernal shouting that woke me at three ack-emma?'

'Undoubtedly, sir. Mr Trump has a voice that carries.'

'I'll say! Like a yodelling banshee. What's he like, this Trump?'

'I have not ascertained, sir, since he has yet to rise. His butler, however, seems to be a man of strident views, if I may be so bold.'

'Be bold, Jeeves, be bold! And if there are beans, spill them.'

'After insisting that Anatole be woken to prepare a "well-done steak", he became somewhat overheated and expressed opinions that some might deem unsound.'

'Unsound? More unsound than shaking the genius Anatole from his post-culinary slumber?'

'He suggested the President of the United States should be assassinated.'

'Good Lord, Jeeves! Do you think his employer knows of these revolutionary tendencies?'

'I could not say, sir. But I gather Mr Trump has controversial views on the president.'

'It's all a little too reminiscent of Spode for my liking.'

'Yes, sir. I too was reminded of Lord -Sidcup.'

'And I am commanded to amuse this -earwig?'

'That is your aunt's desire, sir. It seems that Mr Trump is in business negotiations with your uncle, Mr Travers.'

'Poor old Tom. Well, as aunts bid, nephews serve.'

'So I have observed. I propose to set out your light tweed, sir, as the barometer suggests optimism may not be bootless.'

As Jeeves assembled the day's habiliments, I spied him slipping my new forage cap into his pocket.

'I say, Jeeves, that's my new cap!'

'Is it sir? I'm very sorry. I assumed it belonged to one of the pig men.'

'It belongs to me, and was purchased only yesterday at Lock.'

'Are you proposing to wear it in public, sir? It has an unsettling orange hue.'

'The hue, Jeeves, is "golden tempest" and I am proposing to wear it today.'

'Very good, sir,' he murmured, and oozed away to draw a bath and decant the salts.

I sat alone at breakfast, forking my E and B and mulling this sartorial set-to, when a haircut burst into the room closely followed by a bovine gentlemen the colour of turmeric.

'Ah, you must be Worcestershire! Your uncle Tom has told me all about you.'

'It's Wooster, actually, but call me Bertie, everyone does.'

'And you can call me The Donald,' barked Trump, setting about the breakfast dishes like a haystack in search of a needle.

'Tinkety tonk, The Donald. I gather that, in my uncle's absence, we are to spend the morning together.'

'That's what Tom said. Do you play golf? The Donald is magnificent at golf.'

'I've been known to hack the mashie,' I said modestly, 'but the local course is closed for a tournament this weekend. …

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