He Say, He Sigh, He Sow #38

“Soon he was lost in his labour and oblivious to everything but the problem of how to find a word of one syllable that meant Supralapsarianism.” — P.G. Wodehouse, Mulliner Nights (1933).

3 thoughts on “He Say, He Sigh, He Sow #38

    • Yes, and I think the best are in the lesser-known stories, like those about Mulliner and Ukridge. But this is good from “Jeeves and the Old School Chum”:

      The Pyke’s idea of a refreshing snort was, as I knew from what she had told me on the journey out, a cupful of tepid pip-and-peel water or, failing that, what she called the fruit-liquor. You make this, apparently, by soaking raisins in cold water and adding the juice of a lemon. After which, I suppose, you invite a couple of old friends in and have an orgy, burying the bodies in the morning.

      And this from The Mating Season:

      I am told by those who know that there are six varieties of hangover — the Broken Compass, the Sewing Machine, the Comet, the Atomic, the Cement Mixer and the Gremlin Boogie, and his manner suggested that he had got them all.

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