THE REFORMED SET.

By P. G. Wodehouse

Punch, December 30, 1903

[A writer in the Ladies‘ Field has replied to RITA‘S indictment of the Smart Set with the statement that their pleasures are in reality simple and strenuous. Their favourite game is said to be Shinty, which is described as “a wild and tumultuous version of hockey, in which there are absolutely no rules.”]

IT WAS LORD ADALBERT PERCEVAL CHOLMONDLEY-CHOLMONDLEY‘S first season in London after an absence of five years. In the winter of 1903 he had been compelled by financial troubles to emigrate to Clapham. For five years he had trekked about the Great Common, teaching the natives of that unexplored region Bridge and similar games of skill, and now, having by these means amassed a handsome fortune, he had returned to the ancestral residence in Belgravia, prepared to fill once more his long-vacated place in the Smart Set.

The Red Book informed him that his old friends, the BRABAZON-SMITHS, still lived at their old address. Thither on the afternoon after his arrival he repaired.

As he approached the drawing-room a curious intermittent thudding sound reached his ears, and the voice of the footman announcing his name was drowned in a burst of applause. Something interesting seemed to have been going on in the middle of the room. It was evidently over, for people were strolling about, talking to one another. Lord ADALBERT saw his host coming towards him, and went to meet him.

Mr. BRABAZON-SMITH greeted him effusively.

“What has been going on?” he replied in answer to a question. “Oh, you ought to have come earlier. It‘s over now. We‘ve just been fighting off the semi-finals of the Smart Set Middle Weights competition.”

“The what?”

“I keep forgetting that you have been abroad for so long. We go in a great deal for Boxing now in Society. I fancy we were taking to athletics when you left. We used to play Shinty then, if I recollect rightly. The game is still very popular. Poor old MOUNT-ARARAT—you remember him?—was killed at it the other day. We all told him that he was too old, but he would play, and he got a fractured skull and never recovered. But come round with me, and I‘ll show you a few of our celebrities. You see that wiry-looking man? That is the Duke of DATCHET. He has just beaten the Stockbrokers‘ champion over the Brighton course. He is talking to the man they call SANDOW THE SECOND. He can lift a billiard table in his teeth. Strictly between ourselves he owes his great social success entirely to the feat, for he has few other merits. Just beyond him is Sir JOHN GREGORY, who defeated HACKENSCHMIDT at the Tivoli the other night. The Terrible Bart they call him. Those two men are the best half-backs in the Park Lane Prowlers‘ F.C. They are playing for England next Saturday against Wales. The Prowlers have had a very good season this year. They beat Oxford, Cambridge, Blackheath, and Newport, and drew with Richmond after a great game. That tall man by the fireplace is our full-back. He dropped two goals against Blackheath from outside the half-way line. Both against the wind, too. Oh, yes, we are a capital team. You must join us. Then we run a cricket team, too, the Belgravia Butterflies. We were very successful last season, and the Marquis of ANGLESEY, who headed our averages, is going out with WARNERS‘S next team to Australia. There was a little difficulty at first, but they said he might wear his jewels, so it‘s all right, and he‘s going. DOWNSHIRE has been invited, too. He‘s our best bowler. So clever, you know.”

“And you still play Bridge, of course?” queried Lord ADALBERT.

“Bridge? Bridge? Don‘t know it. Is it a game? You must teach it us.”

In one of the larger oases on the Great Common you will see a simple red-brick hut. On its door-post are the words “Wistaria Villa.” Enter, and you will be shown into the presence of Lord ADALBERT PERCEVAL CHOLMONDLEY-CHOLMONDLEY. He has returned to the wilds.

 

~~~ The End ~~~