A Man of Means

Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
Man of Means, A

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Title: A Man of Means
Author: P. G. Wodehouse
Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8713] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of
schedule] [This file was first posted on August 3, 2003]
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Produced by The United States Members of the Blandings E-Group

A MAN OF MEANS
A Series of Six Stories

By Pelham Grenville Wodehouse and C. H. Bovill
From the Pictorial Review, May-October 1916

CONTENTS
THE EPISODE OF THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER
THE EPISODE OF THE FINANCIAL NAPOLEON
THE EPISODE OF THE THEATRICAL VENTURE
THE EPISODE OF THE LIVE WEEKLY
THE DIVERTING EPISODE OF THE EXILED MONARCH
THE EPISODE OF THE HIRED PAST

THE EPISODE OF THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER
First of a Series of Six Stories [First published in Pictorial Review, May 1916]
When a seed-merchant of cautious disposition and an eye to the main chance receives
from an eminent firm of jam-manufacturers an extremely large order for clover-seed, his
emotions are mixed. Joy may be said to predominate, but with the joy comes also
uncertainty. Are these people, he asks himself, proposing to set up as farmers of a large
scale, or do they merely want the seed to give verisimilitude to their otherwise bald and
unconvincing raspberry jam? On the solution of this problem depends the important
matter of price, for, obviously, you can charge a fraudulent jam disseminator in a manner
which an honest farmer would resent.
This was the problem which was furrowing the brow of Mr. Julian Fineberg, of Bury St.
Edwards, one sunny morning when Roland Bleke knocked at his door; and such was its
difficulty that only at the nineteenth knock did Mr. Fineberg raise his head.
"Come in--that dashed woodpecker out there!" he shouted, for it was his habit to express
himself with a generous strength towards the junior members of his staff.
The young man who entered looked exactly like a second clerk in a provincial
seed-merchant's office--which, strangely enough, he chanced to be. His chief

characteristic was an intense ordinariness. He was a young man; and when you had said
that of him you had said everything. There was nothing which you would have noticed
about him, except the fact that there was nothing to notice. His age was twenty-two and
his name was Roland Bleke.
"Please, sir, it's about my salary."
Mr. Fineberg, at the word, drew himself together much as a British square at Waterloo
must have drawn itself together at the sight of a squadron of cuirassiers.
"Salary?" he cried. "What about it? What's the matter with it? You get it, don't you?"
"Yes, sir, but----"
"Well? Don't stand there like an idiot. What is it?"
"It's too much."
Mr. Fineberg's brain reeled. It was improbable that the millennium could have arrived
with a jerk; on the other hand, he had distinctly heard one of his clerks complain that his
salary was too large. He pinched himself.
"Say that again," he said.
"If you could see your way to reduce it, sir----"
It occurred to Mr. Fineberg for one instant that his subordinate was endeavoring to be
humorous, but a glance at Roland's face dispelled that idea.
"Why do you want it reduced?"
"Please, sir, I'm going to be married."
"What the deuce do you mean?"
"When my salary reaches a hundred and fifty, sir. And it's a hundred and forty now, so if
you could see your way to knocking off ten pounds----"
Mr. Fineberg, saw light. He was a married man himself.
"My boy," he said genially, "I quite understand. But I can do you better than that. It's no
use doing this sort of thing in a small way. From now
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