Explore "Leave It to Jeeves" by P. G. Wodehouse on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Jeeves -- my man, you know -- is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries. " You know the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train for Melonsquashville, Tennessee? " and they reply, without stopping to think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco. " And they're right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of omniscience.
As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the hour.