What ho!" I said.
I was introduced to Bertie Wooster years ago in high school. Superlative writing by P.G.Wodehouse.
An idle rich fellow, Bertie's main job is to entertain his many readers with his various escapades. Aristocrat and thoroughly spoiled by his butler, but a kindly guy. Always ready to go out on a limb for his friends and family, which invariably means that he gets entangled in a thick soup and needs to be rescued by his gentleman, in return for giving up his pink ties and checked suits. More about Jeeves later.
Bertie's family comprised of a medley of characters ranging from the formidable Aunt Agatha and almost adorable Aunt Dahlia and crazy Uncle George. And he is surrounded by folks with the names like Gussy Fink-Nottle and Tuppy Glossop.
But what gets my funny bone is his story telling. He has an admirable way with words. For example, Jeeves never walked. He always staggered in, floating noiselessly or projects himself into the room. Bertram Wilberforce Wooster's breakfasts with eggs and b., his b-and-s drinks and his incomparable descriptions all makes for delectably delicious reading.
"It was a simple, healthy life, and it seemed to suit poor old Freddie absolutely. Once the moon was up and the breeze sighing in the trees, you couldn't drag him from that beach with ropes. He became quite a popular pet with the mosquitoes. They would hang round waiting for him to come out, and would give a miss to perfectly good strollers just so as to be in good condition for him."