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I was reading P.G. Wodehouse’s delightful “Uncle Fred in the Springtime” (Simon & Schuster, Copyright 1939), and decided I really must share a couple passages with you.
As we join them, Clarence, Lord Emsworth, is proudly showing his prize pig and preeminent sow, Empress of Blandings, to Alaric, the Duke of Dunstable. As background, you should know that the Empress was “twice in successive years silver medalist in the Fat Pigs’ class at the Shropshire Agricultural Show.”
The ensuing conversation begins with the Duke’s reaction to being introduced to this noble swine:
“That pig is too fat.”
“Too fat?”
“Much too fat. Look at her. Bulging.”
“But my dear Alaric, she is supposed to be fat.”
“Not as fat as that.”
“Yes, I assure you. She has already been given two medals for being fat.”
“Don’t be silly, Clarence. What would a pig do with medals? It’s no good trying to shirk the issue. There is only one word for that pig—gross. She reminds me of my aunt Horatia, who died of apoplexy during Christmas dinner. Keeled over halfway through her second helping of plum pudding and never spoke again. This animal might be her double. And what do you expect? You stuff her and stuff her and stuff her, and I don’t supposed she gets a lick of exercise from one week’s end to another. What she wants is a cracking good gallop every morning and no starchy foods. That would get her into shape.”
Lord Emsworth has recovered the pince-nez which emotion had caused, as it always did, to leap from his nose. He replaced them insecurely.
“Are you under the impression,” he said, for when deeply moved he could be terribly sarcastic, “that I want to enter my pig for the Derby?”
The duke has been musing. He had not liked that nonsense about pigs being given medals and he was thinking how sad all this was for poor Connie. But at these words, he looked up sharply. An involuntary shudder shook him and his manner took on a sort of bedside tenderness.
“I wouldn’t, Clarence.”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Enter this pig for the Derby. She might not win, and then you would have had all your trouble for nothing.”
We jump forward about 70 pages. Here the Duke is now discussing Lord Emsworth and his pig with Lord Ickenham. The Duke again begins the exchange.
“Here are the facts. He’s got a pig, and he’s crazy about it.”
“The good man loves his pig.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t want to run it in the Derby.”
“Does Emsworth?”
“Told me so himself”
Lord Ickenham looked dubious.
“I doubt the stewards would accept a pig. You might starch its ears and enter it as a greyhound for the Waterloo Cup, but not the Derby.”
“Exactly. Well, that shows you.”
“It does, indeed.”
End of Excerpt from “Uncle Fred in the Springtime” by P.G. Wodehouse.
I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I did--my house rang with "Bravo, P.G.!" and "Good show, P.G.!"
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