Explore "One Touch of Nature" by P. G. Wodehouse on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The feelings of Mr. J. Wilmot Birdsey, as he stood wedged in the crowd that moved inch by inch towards the gates of the Chelsea Football Ground, rather resembled those of a starving man who has just been given a meal but realizes that he is not likely to get another for many days. He was full and happy. He bubbled over with the joy of living and a warm affection for his fellow-man. At the back of his mind there lurked the black shadow of future privations, but for the moment he did not allow it to disturb him. On this maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year he was content to revel in the present and allow the future to take care of itself.
Mr. Birdsey had been doing something which he had not done since he left New York five years ago. He had been watching a game of baseball.