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Page 19
"No, your lordship; I am most careful."
"The late Mr. Gladstone used to chew each mouthful thirty-three
times. Deuced good notion if you aren't in a hurry. What cheese
would you recommend, Adams?"
"The gentlemen are speaking well of the Gorgonzola."
"All right, bring me some. You know, Adams, what I admire about
Americans is their resource. Mr. Peters tells me that as a boy of
eleven he earned twenty dollars a week selling mint to saloon
keepers, as they call publicans over there. Why they wanted mint
I cannot recollect. Mr. Peters explained the reason to me and it
seemed highly plausible at the time; but I have forgotten it.
Possibly for mint sauce. It impressed me, Adams. Twenty dollars
is four pounds. I never earned four pounds a week when I was a
boy of eleven; in fact, I don't think I ever earned four pounds a
week. His story impressed me, Adams. Every man ought to have an
earning capacity. I was so struck with what he told me that I
began to paint."
"Landscapes, your lordship?"
"Furniture. It is unlikely that I shall ever be compelled to
paint furniture for a living, but it is a consolation to me to
feel that I could do so if called on. There is a fascination
about painting furniture, Adams. I have painted the whole of my
bedroom at Blandings and am now engaged on the museum. You would
be surprised at the fascination of it. It suddenly came back to
me the other day that I had been inwardly longing to mess about
with paints and things since I was a boy. They stopped me when I
was a boy. I recollect my old father beating me with a walking
stick--Tell me, Adams, have I eaten my cheese?"
"Not yet, your lordship. I was about to send the waiter for it."
"Never mind. Tell him to bring the bill instead. I remember that
I have an appointment. I must not be late."
"Shall I take the fork, your lordship?"
"The fork?"
"Your lordship has inadvertently put a fork in your coat pocket."
Lord Emsworth felt in the pocket indicated, and with the air of
an inexpert conjurer whose trick has succeeded contrary to his
expectations produced a silver-plated fork. He regarded it with
surprise; then he looked wonderingly at Adams.
"Adams, I'm getting absent-minded. Have you ever noticed any
traces of absent-mindedness in me before?"
"Oh, no, your lordship."
"Well, it's deuced peculiar! I have no recollection whatsoever of
placing that fork in my pocket . . . Adams, I want a taxicab." He
glanced round the room, as though expecting to locate one by the
fireplace.
"The hall porter will whistle one for you, your lordship."
"So he will, by George!--so he will! Good day, Adams."
"Good day, your lordship."
The Earl of Emsworth ambled benevolently to the door, leaving
Adams with the feeling that his day had been well-spent. He gazed
almost with reverence after the slow-moving figure.
"What a nut!" said Adams to his immortal soul.
Wafted through the sunlit streets in his taxicab, the Earl of
Emsworth smiled benevolently on London's teeming millions. He was
as completely happy as only a fluffy-minded old man with
excellent health and a large income can be. Other people worried
about all sorts of things--strikes, wars, suffragettes, the
diminishing birth rate, the growing materialism of the age, a
score of similar subjects.
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