Psmith in the City

by P. G. Wodehouse

  8. The Friendly Native

  'The first principle of warfare,' said Psmith at breakfast nextmorning, doling out bacon and eggs with the air of a medieval monarchdistributing largesse, 'is to collect a gang, to rope in allies, tosecure the cooperation of some friendly native. You may remember thatat Sedleigh it was partly the sympathetic cooperation of that recordblitherer, Comrade Jellicoe, which enabled us to nip the pro-Spillermovement in the bud. It is the same in the present crisis. What ComradeJellicoe was to us at Sedleigh, Comrade Rossiter must be in the City.We must make an ally of that man. Once I know that he and I are asbrothers, and that he will look with a lenient and benevolent eye onany little shortcomings in my work, I shall be able to devote myattention whole-heartedly to the moral reformation of ComradeBickersdyke, that man of blood. I look on Comrade Bickersdyke as abargee of the most pronounced type; and anything I can do towardsmaking him a decent member of Society shall be done freely andungrudgingly. A trifle more tea, Comrade Jackson?'

  'No, thanks,' said Mike. 'I've done. By Jove, Smith, this flat of yoursis all right.'

  'Not bad,' assented Psmith, 'not bad. Free from squalor to a greatextent. I have a number of little objects of _vertu_ coming downshortly from the old homestead. Pictures, and so on. It will be by nomeans un-snug when they are up. Meanwhile, I can rough it. We are oldcampaigners, we Psmiths. Give us a roof, a few comfortable chairs, asofa or two, half a dozen cushions, and decent meals, and we do notrepine. Reverting once more to Comrade Rossiter--'

  'Yes, what about him?' said Mike. 'You'll have a pretty tough jobturning him into a friendly native, I should think. How do you mean tostart?'

  Psmith regarded him with a benevolent eye.

  'There is but one way,' he said. 'Do you remember the case of ComradeOutwood, at Sedleigh? How did we corral him, and become to himpractically as long-lost sons?'

  'We got round him by joining the Archaeological Society.'

  'Precisely,' said Psmith. 'Every man has his hobby. The thing is tofind it out. In the case of comrade Rossiter, I should say that itwould be either postage stamps, dried seaweed, or Hall Caine. I shallendeavour to find out today. A few casual questions, and the thing isdone. Shall we be putting in an appearance at the busy hive now? If weare to continue in the running for the bonus stakes, it would be wellto start soon.'

  Mike's first duty at the bank that morning was to check the stamps andpetty cash. While he was engaged on this task, he heard Psmithconversing affably with Mr Rossiter.

  'Good morning,' said Psmith.

  'Morning,' replied his chief, doing sleight-of-hand tricks with abundle of letters which lay on his desk. 'Get on with your work,Psmith. We have a lot before us.'

  'Undoubtedly. I am all impatience. I should say that in an institutionlike this, dealing as it does with distant portions of the globe, aphilatelist would have excellent opportunities of increasing hiscollection. With me, stamp-collecting has always been a positive craze.I--'

  'I have no time for nonsense of that sort myself,' said Mr Rossiter. 'Ishould advise you, if you mean to get on, to devote more time to yourwork and less to stamps.'

  'I will start at once. Dried seaweed, again--'

  'Get on with your work, Smith.'

  Psmith retired to his desk.

  'This,' he said to Mike, 'is undoubtedly something in the nature of aset-back. I have drawn blank. The papers bring out posters, "PsmithBaffled." I must try again. Meanwhile, to work. Work, the hobby of thephilosopher and the poor man's friend.'

  The morning dragged slowly on without incident. At twelve o'clock Mikehad to go out and buy stamps, which he subsequently punched in thepunching-machine in the basement, a not very exhilarating job in whichhe was assisted by one of the bank messengers, who discoursed learnedlyon roses during the _seance_. Roses were his hobby. Mike began tosee that Psmith had reason in his assumption that the way to everyman's heart was through his hobby. Mike made a firm friend of William,the messenger, by displaying an interest and a certain knowledge ofroses. At the same time the conversation had the bad effect of leadingto an acute relapse in the matter of homesickness. The rose-garden athome had been one of Mike's favourite haunts on a summer afternoon. Thecontrast between it and the basement of the new Asiatic Bank, theatmosphere of which was far from being roselike, was too much for hisfeelings. He emerged from the depths, with his punched stamps, filledwith bitterness against Fate.

  He found Psmith still baffled.

  'Hall Caine,' said Psmith regretfully, 'has also proved a frost. Iwandered round to Comrade Rossiter's desk just now with a rather brainyexcursus on "The Eternal City", and was received with the ImpatientFrown rather than the Glad Eye. He was in the middle of adding up arather tricky column of figures, and my remarks caused him to drop astitch. So far from winning the man over, I have gone back. There nowexists between Comrade Rossiter and myself a certain coldness. Furtherinvestigations will be postponed till after lunch.'

  The postage department received visitors during the morning. Members ofother departments came with letters, among them Bannister. Mr Rossiterwas away in the manager's room at the time.

  'How are you getting on?' said Bannister to Mike.

  'Oh, all right,' said Mike.

  'Had any trouble with Rossiter yet?'

  'No, not much.'

  'He hasn't run you in to Bickersdyke?'

  'No.'

  'Pardon my interrupting a conversation between old college chums,' saidPsmith courteously, 'but I happened to overhear, as I toiled at mydesk, the name of Comrade Rossiter.'

  Bannister looked somewhat startled. Mike introduced them.

  'This is Smith,' he said. 'Chap I was at school with. This isBannister, Smith, who used to be on here till I came.'

  'In this department?' asked Psmith.

  'Yes.'

  'Then, Comrade Bannister, you are the very man I have been looking for.Your knowledge will be invaluable to us. I have no doubt that, duringyour stay in this excellently managed department, you had manyopportunities of observing Comrade Rossiter?'

  'I should jolly well think I had,' said Bannister with a laugh. 'He sawto that. He was always popping out and cursing me about something.'

  'Comrade Rossiter's manners are a little restive,' agreed Psmith. 'Whatused you to talk to him about?'

  'What used I to talk to him about?'

  'Exactly. In those interviews to which you have alluded, how did youamuse, entertain Comrade Rossiter?'

  'I didn't. He used to do all the talking there was.'

  Psmith straightened his tie, and clicked his tongue, disappointed.

  'This is unfortunate,' he said, smoothing his hair. 'You see, ComradeBannister, it is this way. In the course of my professional duties, Ifind myself continually coming into contact with Comrade Rossiter.'

  'I bet you do,' said Bannister.

  'On these occasions I am frequently at a loss for entertainingconversation. He has no difficulty, as apparently happened in yourcase, in keeping up his end of the dialogue. The subject of myshortcomings provides him with ample material for speech. I, on theother hand, am dumb. I have nothing to say.'

  'I should think that was a bit of a change for you, wasn't it?'

  'Perhaps, so,' said Psmith, 'perhaps so. On the other hand, howeverrestful it may be to myself, it does not enable me to secure ComradeRossiter's interest and win his esteem.'

  'What Smith wants to know,' said Mike, 'is whether Rossiter has anyhobby of any kind. He thinks, if he has, he might work it to keep inwith him.'

  Psmith, who had been listening with an air of pleased interest, much asa father would listen to his child prattling for the benefit of avisitor, confirmed this statement.

  'Comrade Jackson,' he said, 'has put the matter with his usualadmirable clearness. That is the thing in a nutshell. Has ComradeRossiter any hobby that you know of? Spillikins, brass-rubbing, theNear Eastern Question, or anything like that? I have tried him withpostage-stamps (which you'd think, as head of a postage department, heought to
be interested in), and dried seaweed, Hall Caine, but I havethe honour to report total failure. The man seems to have no pleasures.What does he do with himself when the day's toil is ended? That giantbrain must occupy itself somehow.'

  'I don't know,' said Bannister, 'unless it's football. I saw him oncewatching Chelsea. I was rather surprised.'

  'Football,' said Psmith thoughtfully, 'football. By no means a scalyidea. I rather fancy, Comrade Bannister, that you have whanged the nailon the head. Is he strong on any particular team? I mean, have you everheard him, in the intervals of business worries, stamping on his deskand yelling, "Buck up Cottagers!" or "Lay 'em out, Pensioners!" oranything like that? One moment.' Psmith held up his hand. 'I will getmy Sherlock Holmes system to work. What was the other team in themodern gladiatorial contest at which you saw Comrade Rossiter?'

  'Manchester United.'

  'And Comrade Rossiter, I should say, was a Manchester man.'

  'I believe he is.'

  'Then I am prepared to bet a small sum that he is nuts on ManchesterUnited. My dear Holmes, how--! Elementary, my dear fellow, quiteelementary. But here comes the lad in person.'

  Mr Rossiter turned in from the central aisle through the counter-door,and, observing the conversational group at the postage-desk, camebounding up. Bannister moved off.

  'Really, Smith,' said Mr Rossiter, 'you always seem to be talking. Ihave overlooked the matter once, as I did not wish to get you intotrouble so soon after joining; but, really, it cannot go on. I musttake notice of it.'

  Psmith held up his hand.

  'The fault was mine,' he said, with manly frankness. 'Entirely mine.Bannister came in a purely professional spirit to deposit a letter withComrade Jackson. I engaged him in conversation on the subject of theFootball League, and I was just trying to correct his view thatNewcastle United were the best team playing, when you arrived.'

  'It is perfectly absurd,' said Mr Rossiter, 'that you should waste thebank's time in this way. The bank pays you to work, not to talk aboutprofessional football.'

  'Just so, just so,' murmured Psmith.

  'There is too much talking in this department.'

  'I fear you are right.'

  'It is nonsense.'

  'My own view,' said Psmith, 'was that Manchester United were by far thefinest team before the public.'

  'Get on with your work, Smith.'

  Mr Rossiter stumped off to his desk, where he sat as one in thought.

  'Smith,' he said at the end of five minutes.

  Psmith slid from his stool, and made his way deferentially towards him.

  'Bannister's a fool,' snapped Mr Rossiter.

  'So I thought,' said Psmith.

  'A perfect fool. He always was.'

  Psmith shook his head sorrowfully, as who should say, 'Exit Bannister.'

  'There is no team playing today to touch Manchester United.'

  'Precisely what I said to Comrade Bannister.'

  'Of course. You know something about it.'

  'The study of League football,' said Psmith, 'has been my relaxationfor years.'

  'But we have no time to discuss it now.'

  'Assuredly not, sir. Work before everything.'

  'Some other time, when--'

  '--We are less busy. Precisely.'

  Psmith moved back to his seat.

  'I fear,' he said to Mike, as he resumed work, 'that as far as ComradeRossiter's friendship and esteem are concerned, I have to a certainextent landed Comrade Bannister in the bouillon; but it was in a goodcause. I fancy we have won through. Half an hour's thoughtful perusalof the "Footballers' Who's Who", just to find out some elementary factsabout Manchester United, and I rather think the friendly Native iscorralled. And now once more to work. Work, the hobby of the hustlerand the deadbeat's dread.'