Ag’s Budget is Bigger than Farm Profits

Wooster GHQ had a similar hullabaloo recently.

Though I’ve got plenty of the stuff, Aunt Agatha forced me at umbrella point–positively at umbrella point!–to accede to some dashed scheme of keeping a budget. As she’s doped it out, the lower classes will spend it all at the horse races and the tattoo parlors unless their betters, to wit, Bertram Wooster, set them a fine old-world example in the spirit of noblesse oblige, etc., etc. Dashed nonsense, if you ask me. You may take it from me, costermongers and carwash operators and I can take each other or leave each other. Live and let live, if you know the expression. Worshipful emulation being rather conspic. by its a. But she didn’t ask me, that’s the point, so after toddling around to the shop to make copious purchases of ledgers and red ink, I furrowed the Wooster brow and got down to it. Imagine my astonishment to discover that my outlays on Jeeves’ pick-me-ups had exceeded my investments in gents’ liquid refreshment by no inconsiderable amount. “Stap my vitals, Jeeves,” I observed, “heads must roll.” To which he issued a firm nolle prosequi.