a year beat me. Old Bittlesham was bound to knock off his allowance if he did anything of the sort; and, with a fellow like young Bingo, if you knocked off his allowance, you might just as well hit him on the head with an axe and make a clean job of it.
“Jeeves,” I said, when I got home, “I’m worried.”
“Sir?”
“About Mr. Little. I won’t tell you about it now, because he’s bringing some friends of his to tea tomorrow, and then you will be able to judge for yourself. I want you to observe closely, Jeeves, and form your decision.”
“Very good, sir.”
“And about the tea. Get in some muffins.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And some jam, ham, cake, scrambled eggs, and five or six wagonloads