School Stories by P. G. Wodehouse (children's ebooks free online .TXT) ๐
Description
School Stories is a collection of humorous short stories by P. G. Wodehouse that feature the trials, tribulations and adventures of the denizens of the turn-of-the-century English boarding school.
First published in schoolboy magazines starting in 1901, the stories originally appeared in publications like The Captain and Public School Magazine. Some were also later collected into books. These stories, written more than a decade before he moved on to his more famous characters like Jeeves and Wooster, represent Wodehouseโs first magazine sales and showcase his early career. While some of these stories are definitely of a moment, theyโre filled with delightful bits that would be instantly recognizable to students and teachers of any age. Indeed, the stories experienced a bit of a resurgence in the latter part of the 20th century, and remain a worthy part of Wodehouseโs canon.
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- Author: P. G. Wodehouse
Read book online ยซSchool Stories by P. G. Wodehouse (children's ebooks free online .TXT) ๐ยป. Author - P. G. Wodehouse
Somebody told me a short time ago that Shelley was an example of supreme, divine, superhuman genius. It is the sort of thing Mr. Gilbertโs โrapturous maidensโ might have said: โHow Botticellian! How Fra Angelican! How perceptively intense and consummately utter!โ There is really no material difference.
Now, Talking About CricketIn the days of yore, when these white hairs were brownโ โor was it black? At any rate, they were not whiteโ โand I was at school, it was always my custom, when Fate obliged me to walk to school with a casual acquaintance, to whom I could not unburden my soul of those profound thoughts which even then occupied my mind, to turn the struggling conversation to the relative merits of cricket and football.
โDo you like cricket better than footer?โ was my formula. Now, though at the time, in order to save fruitless argument, I always agreed with my companion, and praised the game he praised, in the innermost depths of my subconsciousness, cricket ranked a long way in front of all other forms of sport. I may be wrong. More than once in my career it has been represented to me that I couldnโt play cricket for nuts. My captain said as much when I ran him out in the match of the season after he had made forty-nine and looked like stopping. A bowling acquaintance heartily endorsed his opinion on the occasion of my missing three catches off him in one over. This, however, I attribute to prejudice, for the man I missed ultimately reached his century, mainly off the deliveries of my bowling acquaintance. I pointed out to him that, had I accepted any one of the three chances, we should have missed seeing the prettiest century made on the ground that season; but he was one of those bowlers who sacrifice all that is beautiful in the game to mere wickets. A sordid practice.
Later on, the persistence with which my county ignored my claims to inclusion in the team, convinced me that I must leave cricket fame to others. True, I did figure, rather prominently, too, in one county match. It was at the Oval, Surrey v. Middlesex. How well I remember that occasion! Albert Trott was bowling (Bertie we used to call him); I forget who was batting. Suddenly the ball came soaring in my direction. I was not nervous. I put down the sandwich I was eating, rose from my seat, picked the ball up neatly, and returned it with unerring aim to a fieldsman who was waiting for it with becoming deference. Thunders of applause went up from the crowded ring.
That was the highest point I ever reached in practical cricket. But, as the historian says of Mr. Winkle, a man may be an excellent sportsman in theory, even if he fail in practice. Thatโs me. Reader (if any), have you ever played cricket in the passage outside your study with a walking-stick and a ball of paper? Thatโs the game, my boy, for testing your skill of wrist and eye. A century v. the M.C.C. is well enough in its way, but give me the
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