October 6, 2025 • 11 mins
15 - Uncle Donald Speaks His Mind. The Adventures of Sally by P. G. Wodehouse.
This romantic comedy stars a young American girl named Sally, who inherits a considerable fortune and finds her life turned upside down. The typically Wodehouseian cast includes Sally's ambitious brother, an assortment of theater people, a pair of English cousins, and, of course, an Uncle. It's jolly good fun!
This romantic comedy stars a young American girl named Sally, who inherits a considerable fortune and finds her life turned upside down. The typically Wodehouseian cast includes Sally's ambitious brother, an assortment of theater people, a pair of English cousins, and, of course, an Uncle. It's jolly good fun!
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
Chapter fifteen of the Adventures of Sallie. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Adventures of Sally by P. G. Woodhouse, Chapter fifteen.
Uncle Donald speaks his mind. There is in certain men,
(00:26):
and Bruce Carmile was one of them, a quality of resilience,
a sturdy refusal to acknowledge defeat, which aids them as
effectively in affairs of the heart as in encounters of
a sterner and more practical kind as a wooer. Bruce
Carmile resembled that durable type of pugilist who can only
give of his best after he has received at least
(00:49):
one substantial wallop on some tender spot. Although Salli had
refused his offer of marriage quite definitely at monks Crofton,
it had never occurred to him to consider the episode closed.
All his life, he had been accustomed to getting what
he wanted, and he meant to get it now. He
was quite sure that he wanted Sally. There had been
(01:11):
moments when he had been conscious of certain doubts, but
in the smart of temporary defeat, these had vanished. That
streak of bohemianism in her, which from time to time
since their first meeting, had jarred upon his orderly mind,
was forgotten, and all that mister Carlyle could remember was
the brightness of her eyes, the jaunty lift of her chin,
(01:32):
and the gallant trimness of her Her gay prettiness seemed
to flick at him like a whip in the darkness
of wakeful nights, lashing him to pursuit, and quietly and methodically,
like a respectable wolf settling on the trail of a
red riding hood, he prepared to pursue. Delicacy and imagination
(01:53):
might have kept him back, but in these qualities he
had never been strong. One cannot have everything. His preparations
for departure, though he did his best to make them
swiftly and secretly, did not escape notice of the family.
In many English families, there seems to exist a system
of intercommunication and news distribution, like that of those savage
(02:16):
tribes in Africa, who passed the latest item of news
and interest from point to point over miles of intervening
jungle by some telepathic method never properly explained on his
last night in London. There entered to Bruce Carmle at
his apartment in South Audley Street, the family's chosen representative,
the man to whom the family pointed with pride, Uncle Donald.
(02:40):
In the flesh. There were two hundred and forty pounds
of the flesh Uncle Donald was in, and the chair
in which he deposited it creaked beneath its burden. Once
at Monks crofton Sally had spoiled a whole morning for
her brother Fillmore by indicating Uncle Donald as the exact
image of what he would be when he grew up.
(03:03):
A superstition cherished from early school days that he had
a weak heart, had caused the families managing director to
abstain from every form of exercise for nearly fifty years.
And as he combined with a distaste for exercise one
of the three heartiest appetites in the Southwestern Postal Division
of London, Uncle Donald, at sixty two, was not a
(03:25):
man one would willingly have lounging in one's arm chairs.
Bruce Carlyle's customary respectfulness was tinged with something approaching dislike
as he looked at him Uncle Donald's walrus mustache heaved
gently upon his labored breath, like seaweed on a ground swell.
There had been stairs to climb. What's this? What's this?
(03:49):
He contrived to ejaculate at last, You packing, yes, said
mister Carlyle. Shortly, for the first time in his life,
he was conscious of that sensation of furtive guilt which
was habitual with his cousin Ginger, when in the presence
of this large mackerel eyed man, you going away? Yes?
(04:10):
Where are you going? America? When you going tomorrow morning?
Why you going? This dialog has been set down as
though it had been as brisk and snappy as any
cross talk between vaudeville comedians, But in reality Uncle Donald's
peculiar methods of conversation had stretched it over a period
(04:30):
of nearly three minutes. For after each reply and before
each question, he had puffed and sighed and inhaled his
mustache with such painful deliberation that his companion's nerves were
finding it difficult to bear up under the strain. You're
going after that girl, said Uncle Donald accusingly. Bruce Carmile
(04:53):
flushed darkly. And it is interesting to record that at
this moment there flitted through his mind the thought that
Ginger's behavior at Bleak's Coffee House on a certain notable
occasion had not been so utterly inexcusable as he had supposed.
There was no doubt that the family's chosen one could
be trying. Will you have a whiskey? And so to
(05:16):
Uncle Donald, he said, by way of changing the conversation, Yes,
said his relative, in pursuance of a vow he had
made in the early eighties never to refuse an offer
of this kind. Gimme You would have thought that that
would have put matters on a pleasanter footing. But no.
Having lapped up the restorative Uncle Donald returned to the
(05:38):
attack quite unsoftened. Never thought you were a fool before,
he said severely. Bruce Carlyle's proud spirit chafed. This sort
of interview, which had become a commonplace with his cousin Ginger,
was new to him. Hitherto his actions had received neither
criticism nor been subjected to it. I'm not a fool.
(06:03):
You are a fool, A damn fool, continued Uncle Donald,
specifying more exactly. Don't like the girl, never did not
a nice girl. Didn't like her right from the first,
Need we discuss this, said Bruce Carlyle, dropping as he
was apt to do, into the grand manner. The head
(06:23):
of the family drank in a layer of mustache and
blew it out again. Need we discuss it, he said,
with asperity. We're going to discuss it. What you think
I climbed all these blasted stairs for with my weak heart?
Give me another, mister Carlyle gave him another. It's a
bad business, moaned Uncle Donald, having gone through the movements
(06:44):
once more. Shocking bad business. If your poor father were alive,
what you think he'd say to your tearing across the
world after this, girl, I'll tell you what he'd say.
He'd say, what kind of whiskey is this? O? Rafferty? Special?
To me? Not bad? Quite good? Sound mellow? Where'd you
get it? Bilby's in Oxford Street, must order some mellow,
(07:10):
he'd say. Well, god knows what he'd say. What you're
doing it for? What you're doing it for, That's what
I can't see. None of us can see. Puzzles, Your
uncle George baffles, your aunt Geraldine. Nobody can understand it. Girl,
simply after your money. Any one can see that. Pardon me,
Uncle Donald, said mister Carlyle stiffly. But that is surely
(07:31):
rather absurd. If that were the case, why should she
have refused me at Monk's crofton drawing you on? Said
Uncle Donald, promptly, luring you on? Well known trick girl
in eighteen eighty one, when I was at Oxford, tried
to lure me on. If I hadn't had some sense
and a weak heart. What you know of this girl?
What you know of her? That's the point? Who is she?
(07:53):
Where'd you meet her? I met her at Roeville in France,
traveling with her fan. Traveling alone, said Bruce Carmyle, reluctantly,
Not even with that brother of hers. Bad, said Uncle Donald. Bad. Bad.
American girls are accustomed to more independence than English girls.
(08:16):
That young man, said Uncle Donald, pursuing a train of thought.
He is going to be fat one of these days
if he doesn't look out. Traveling alone? Was she? What
did you do? Catch her eye on the pier? Really,
Uncle Donald? Well must have got to know her somehow.
I was introduced to her by Launcelot. She was a
(08:37):
friend of his. Lancelot, exploded Uncle Donald, quivering all over
like a smitten jelly at the loathed name. While that
shows you what sort of a girl she is, any
girl that would be a friend of unpack. I beg
your pardon, Unpack, mustn't go on with this foolery. Out
of the question. Find some girl, make you a good wife.
(09:00):
Your aunt Mary's been meeting some people name of Bassington
Bassington related Kent Bassington, Bassington's eldest daughter. Charming girl. Just
do for you. Outside the pages of the more old
fashioned type of fiction, nobody ever really ground his teeth,
but Bruce Carmle came nearer to it at that moment
than any one had ever come before. He scowled blackly,
(09:23):
and the last trace of suavity left him. I shall
do nothing of the kind, he said, briefly. I sail tomorrow.
Uncle Donald had had a previous experience of being defied
by a nephew, but it had not accustomed him to
the sensation. He was aware of an unpleasant feeling of impotence.
Nothing is harder than to know what to do next
(09:45):
when defied, eh, he said. Mister Carlyle, having started to defy,
evidently decided to make a good job of it. I
am over twenty one, said he. I am financially independent.
I shall do as I please, but consider, pleaded Uncle Donald, painfully,
(10:06):
conscious of the weakness of his words. Reflect, I have
reflected your position in the county. I've thought of that
you could marry any one you pleased. I'm going to
you are determined to go running off to god knows
where after this miss I can't even remember her damn name. Yes,
(10:29):
have you considered, said Uncle Donald portentously, that you owe
a duty to the family. Bruce Carlyle's patience snapped, and
he sank like a stone to absolutely gingery in depths
of plain spokenness. Oh damn the family, he cried. There
(10:50):
was a painful silence, broken only by the relieved sigh
of the arm chair as Uncle Donald heaved himself out
of it. After that, said Uncle Donald, I have nothing
more to say. Good, said mister Carmle, rudely, lost to
all shame scept this. If you come back married to
(11:10):
that girl, I'll cut you in Piccadilly by George, I will.
He moved to the door. Bruce Carmle looked down his
nose without speaking a tense moment, what, asked Uncle Donald,
his fingers on the handle, Did you say it? Was
called what was what called that whiskey? O Rafferty Special?
(11:36):
And where'd you get it? Bilby's in Oxford Street. I'll
make a note of it, said Uncle Donald. End of
Chapter fifteen, read by Kara Shallenburg on February third, two
thousand nine, in San Diego, California,
Chapter fifteen of the Adventures of Sallie. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Adventures of Sally by P. G. Woodhouse, Chapter fifteen.
Uncle Donald speaks his mind. There is in certain men,
(00:26):
and Bruce Carmile was one of them, a quality of resilience,
a sturdy refusal to acknowledge defeat, which aids them as
effectively in affairs of the heart as in encounters of
a sterner and more practical kind as a wooer. Bruce
Carmile resembled that durable type of pugilist who can only
give of his best after he has received at least
(00:49):
one substantial wallop on some tender spot. Although Salli had
refused his offer of marriage quite definitely at monks Crofton,
it had never occurred to him to consider the episode closed.
All his life, he had been accustomed to getting what
he wanted, and he meant to get it now. He
was quite sure that he wanted Sally. There had been
(01:11):
moments when he had been conscious of certain doubts, but
in the smart of temporary defeat, these had vanished. That
streak of bohemianism in her, which from time to time
since their first meeting, had jarred upon his orderly mind,
was forgotten, and all that mister Carlyle could remember was
the brightness of her eyes, the jaunty lift of her chin,
(01:32):
and the gallant trimness of her Her gay prettiness seemed
to flick at him like a whip in the darkness
of wakeful nights, lashing him to pursuit, and quietly and methodically,
like a respectable wolf settling on the trail of a
red riding hood, he prepared to pursue. Delicacy and imagination
(01:53):
might have kept him back, but in these qualities he
had never been strong. One cannot have everything. His preparations
for departure, though he did his best to make them
swiftly and secretly, did not escape notice of the family.
In many English families, there seems to exist a system
of intercommunication and news distribution, like that of those savage
(02:16):
tribes in Africa, who passed the latest item of news
and interest from point to point over miles of intervening
jungle by some telepathic method never properly explained on his
last night in London. There entered to Bruce Carmle at
his apartment in South Audley Street, the family's chosen representative,
the man to whom the family pointed with pride, Uncle Donald.
(02:40):
In the flesh. There were two hundred and forty pounds
of the flesh Uncle Donald was in, and the chair
in which he deposited it creaked beneath its burden. Once
at Monks crofton Sally had spoiled a whole morning for
her brother Fillmore by indicating Uncle Donald as the exact
image of what he would be when he grew up.
(03:03):
A superstition cherished from early school days that he had
a weak heart, had caused the families managing director to
abstain from every form of exercise for nearly fifty years.
And as he combined with a distaste for exercise one
of the three heartiest appetites in the Southwestern Postal Division
of London, Uncle Donald, at sixty two, was not a
(03:25):
man one would willingly have lounging in one's arm chairs.
Bruce Carlyle's customary respectfulness was tinged with something approaching dislike
as he looked at him Uncle Donald's walrus mustache heaved
gently upon his labored breath, like seaweed on a ground swell.
There had been stairs to climb. What's this? What's this?
(03:49):
He contrived to ejaculate at last, You packing, yes, said
mister Carlyle. Shortly, for the first time in his life,
he was conscious of that sensation of furtive guilt which
was habitual with his cousin Ginger, when in the presence
of this large mackerel eyed man, you going away? Yes?
(04:10):
Where are you going? America? When you going tomorrow morning?
Why you going? This dialog has been set down as
though it had been as brisk and snappy as any
cross talk between vaudeville comedians, But in reality Uncle Donald's
peculiar methods of conversation had stretched it over a period
(04:30):
of nearly three minutes. For after each reply and before
each question, he had puffed and sighed and inhaled his
mustache with such painful deliberation that his companion's nerves were
finding it difficult to bear up under the strain. You're
going after that girl, said Uncle Donald accusingly. Bruce Carmile
(04:53):
flushed darkly. And it is interesting to record that at
this moment there flitted through his mind the thought that
Ginger's behavior at Bleak's Coffee House on a certain notable
occasion had not been so utterly inexcusable as he had supposed.
There was no doubt that the family's chosen one could
be trying. Will you have a whiskey? And so to
(05:16):
Uncle Donald, he said, by way of changing the conversation, Yes,
said his relative, in pursuance of a vow he had
made in the early eighties never to refuse an offer
of this kind. Gimme You would have thought that that
would have put matters on a pleasanter footing. But no.
Having lapped up the restorative Uncle Donald returned to the
(05:38):
attack quite unsoftened. Never thought you were a fool before,
he said severely. Bruce Carlyle's proud spirit chafed. This sort
of interview, which had become a commonplace with his cousin Ginger,
was new to him. Hitherto his actions had received neither
criticism nor been subjected to it. I'm not a fool.
(06:03):
You are a fool, A damn fool, continued Uncle Donald,
specifying more exactly. Don't like the girl, never did not
a nice girl. Didn't like her right from the first,
Need we discuss this, said Bruce Carlyle, dropping as he
was apt to do, into the grand manner. The head
(06:23):
of the family drank in a layer of mustache and
blew it out again. Need we discuss it, he said,
with asperity. We're going to discuss it. What you think
I climbed all these blasted stairs for with my weak heart?
Give me another, mister Carlyle gave him another. It's a
bad business, moaned Uncle Donald, having gone through the movements
(06:44):
once more. Shocking bad business. If your poor father were alive,
what you think he'd say to your tearing across the
world after this, girl, I'll tell you what he'd say.
He'd say, what kind of whiskey is this? O? Rafferty? Special?
To me? Not bad? Quite good? Sound mellow? Where'd you
get it? Bilby's in Oxford Street, must order some mellow,
(07:10):
he'd say. Well, god knows what he'd say. What you're
doing it for? What you're doing it for, That's what
I can't see. None of us can see. Puzzles, Your
uncle George baffles, your aunt Geraldine. Nobody can understand it. Girl,
simply after your money. Any one can see that. Pardon me,
Uncle Donald, said mister Carlyle stiffly. But that is surely
(07:31):
rather absurd. If that were the case, why should she
have refused me at Monk's crofton drawing you on? Said
Uncle Donald, promptly, luring you on? Well known trick girl
in eighteen eighty one, when I was at Oxford, tried
to lure me on. If I hadn't had some sense
and a weak heart. What you know of this girl?
What you know of her? That's the point? Who is she?
(07:53):
Where'd you meet her? I met her at Roeville in France,
traveling with her fan. Traveling alone, said Bruce Carmyle, reluctantly,
Not even with that brother of hers. Bad, said Uncle Donald. Bad. Bad.
American girls are accustomed to more independence than English girls.
(08:16):
That young man, said Uncle Donald, pursuing a train of thought.
He is going to be fat one of these days
if he doesn't look out. Traveling alone? Was she? What
did you do? Catch her eye on the pier? Really,
Uncle Donald? Well must have got to know her somehow.
I was introduced to her by Launcelot. She was a
(08:37):
friend of his. Lancelot, exploded Uncle Donald, quivering all over
like a smitten jelly at the loathed name. While that
shows you what sort of a girl she is, any
girl that would be a friend of unpack. I beg
your pardon, Unpack, mustn't go on with this foolery. Out
of the question. Find some girl, make you a good wife.
(09:00):
Your aunt Mary's been meeting some people name of Bassington
Bassington related Kent Bassington, Bassington's eldest daughter. Charming girl. Just
do for you. Outside the pages of the more old
fashioned type of fiction, nobody ever really ground his teeth,
but Bruce Carmle came nearer to it at that moment
than any one had ever come before. He scowled blackly,
(09:23):
and the last trace of suavity left him. I shall
do nothing of the kind, he said, briefly. I sail tomorrow.
Uncle Donald had had a previous experience of being defied
by a nephew, but it had not accustomed him to
the sensation. He was aware of an unpleasant feeling of impotence.
Nothing is harder than to know what to do next
(09:45):
when defied, eh, he said. Mister Carlyle, having started to defy,
evidently decided to make a good job of it. I
am over twenty one, said he. I am financially independent.
I shall do as I please, but consider, pleaded Uncle Donald, painfully,
(10:06):
conscious of the weakness of his words. Reflect, I have
reflected your position in the county. I've thought of that
you could marry any one you pleased. I'm going to
you are determined to go running off to god knows
where after this miss I can't even remember her damn name. Yes,
(10:29):
have you considered, said Uncle Donald portentously, that you owe
a duty to the family. Bruce Carlyle's patience snapped, and
he sank like a stone to absolutely gingery in depths
of plain spokenness. Oh damn the family, he cried. There
(10:50):
was a painful silence, broken only by the relieved sigh
of the arm chair as Uncle Donald heaved himself out
of it. After that, said Uncle Donald, I have nothing
more to say. Good, said mister Carmle, rudely, lost to
all shame scept this. If you come back married to
(11:10):
that girl, I'll cut you in Piccadilly by George, I will.
He moved to the door. Bruce Carmle looked down his
nose without speaking a tense moment, what, asked Uncle Donald,
his fingers on the handle, Did you say it? Was
called what was what called that whiskey? O Rafferty Special?
(11:36):
And where'd you get it? Bilby's in Oxford Street. I'll
make a note of it, said Uncle Donald. End of
Chapter fifteen, read by Kara Shallenburg on February third, two
thousand nine, in San Diego, California,
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