the greengrocer

Also called A sort of bloke, The cove who was waiting at table

The local greengrocer waiting at the Littles' table, who could identify Bertie.

Scenes they are in

Anatole’s magnificent dinner transforms Tom’s mood while Bingo remains miserable.Chapter 9, the Littles' dining-room

Talked about, but not there

When Anatole refuses to leave his beloved parlourmaid, Bingo persuades Bertie to steal the dictating cylinder.Chapter 9, Bertie's bedroom at the flat, as a provincial undertaker
A policeman and parlourmaid challenge Bertie, who offers his drawing-room photograph as proof that he knows the family.Chapter 9, the Littles' garden, as the undertaker

Pictured 12

GUSSIE WOULD CLEAR HIS THROAT AND BEGIN: ' THERE'S A GREAT BIG CHOO-CHOO WAITING AT THE DEEPO.Extricating Young Gussie, Alfred Leete, The Strand Magazine, January 1916

DECENT MIRTH AND ALL THAT SORT OF THING ARE ALL RIGHT, BUT I DO BAR DANCING ON TABLES.Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest, Alfred Leete, The Strand Magazine, March 1917

HE WAS SITTING AT A TABLE ON THE EDGE OF THE DANCING FLOOR, DOING HIMSELF REMARKABLY WELL.The Aunt and the Sluggard, Alfred Leete, The Strand Magazine, August 1916

I FOUND ROCKY STANDING BESIDE ME, WITH A SORT OF MIXED EXPRESSION OF WISTFULNESS AND APOPLEXY ON HIS FACE.The Aunt and the Sluggard, Alfred Leete, The Strand Magazine, August 1916

8 more

Right from the first day he came to me, I have looked on Jeeves as a sort of guide, philosopher, and friend.

I pulled the pearls out of the drawer and held them up. "I say, don't want to interrupt you and all that sort of thing, but aren't these the little chaps?

I caught the table squarely with my right hip and knocked it endways. It seemed to me for a moment as if the whole world had dissolved into a kind of cataract of glass and china.

We are all waiting for you in the large schoolroom." "But I don't know a bit what to talk about." "Why, anything, Mr. Wooster. Be bright—bright and amusing.

THE NEXT MOMENT THE DOOR HAD OPENED, LIGHT WAS STREAMING THROUGH IT, AND THE BLOKE WITH THE VOICE HAD GRABBED ME BY THE ARM.

He had lifted the sheets and was gazing at the corpse of the hot-water bottle. "Did you do this?" he said in a low, strangled sort of voice.

There, standing behind a desk, with the steel-rimmed spectacles glittering as nastily as on the day when I had seen them across Aunt Agatha's luncheon- table, was the boss in person. cRong, i

What I want," I said, "is petrol." "What you'll get," said the bloke, "is a thick ear.