“If you think a busy man like myself has time to go rubbing your father, either with or against the grain, you are greatly mistaken.” Continue reading Never mind the Aunts: P.G. Wodehouse’s fictional fathers are stinkers too
This Lord Worplesdon was Florence’s father. He was the old buster who, a few years later, came down to breakfast one morning, lifted the first cover he saw, said ‘Eggs! Eggs! Damn all eggs!’ in an overwrought sort of voice, … Continue reading Eggs! Eggs! Damn all eggs!