Just Enough Jeeves Right Ho Jeeves Joy In The Morning Very Good Jeeves

Offers two novels and a story collection by the famed English comic writer featuring his memorable characters Bertie Wooster and his ingenious butler, Jeeves.

Bertie returns to London from several weeks in Cannes spent in the company of his Aunt Dahlia Travers and her daughter Angela. In Bertie's absence, Jeeves has been advising Bertie's old school friend, Gussie Fink-Nottle, who is in love with a goofy, sentimental, whimsical, childish girl named Madeline Bassett...

We all know Jeeves and Wooster, but which is the best Jeeves story? We all know Blandings, but which is the funniest tale about Lord Emsworth and his adored prize-winning pig? And would the best of Ukridge, or the yarns of the Oldest Member, or Wodehouse's Hollywood stories outdo them? This bumper anthology allows you to choose, bringing you the cream of the crop of stories by the twentieth century's greatest humorous writer. There are favourites aplenty in this selection, which has been compiled with enthusiastic support from P.G. Wodehouse societies around the world. With additional material including novel extracts, working drafts, articles, letters and poems, this anthology provides the best overall celebration of side-splitting humour and sheer good nature available in the pages of any book.

'My only problem with Wodehouse is deciding which of his enchanting books to take to my desert island' Ruth Dudley Edwards 'The most industrious, prolific and beneficent author ever to have sat down, scratched his head and banged out a sentence' Stephen Fry -- 'Your tea will be here in a moment, sir.' 'No, Jeeves. This is no time for tea. I must concentrate." When his incomparable valet Jeeves suddenly resigns, how will the hapless Bertie Wooster get by? Bertie's dedicated but somewhat untuneful playing of the banjo has driven Jeeves, his otherwise steadfast gentleman's gentleman, to give notice. Looking for respite, Bertie disappears to the country as a guest of his chum Chuffy, only to find his peace shattered by the arrival of his ex-fiancée Pauline Stoker, her formidable father and the eminent loony-doctor Sir Roderick Glossop. It seems Bertie cannot survive for long without Jeeves - and soon a situation arises which only Jeeves can solve.

A classic Jeeves and Wooster novel from P.G. Wodehouse, the great comic writer of the 20th century. Trapped in rural Steeple Bumpleigh with old flame Florence Craye, her new and suspicious fiancé Stilton Cheesewright, and two-faced Edwin the Boy Scout, Bertie desperately needs Jeeves to save him... 'A cavalcade of perfect joy.' - Caitlin Moran Sunlit perfection... Bask in its warmth and splendour. - Stephen Fry 'The best English comic novelist of the century.' - Sebastian Faulks 'The greatest chronicler of a certain kind of Englishness' - Julian Fellowes

“I absolutely loved this book, both as a parent and as a nerd.” —Jessica Lahey, author of The Gift of Failure As every parent knows, kids are surprisingly clever negotiators. But how can we avoid those all-too-familiar wails of “That’s not fair!” and “You can’t make me!”? In The Game Theorist’s Guide to Parenting, the award-winning journalist and father of five Paul Raeburn and the game theorist Kevin Zollman pair up to highlight tactics from the worlds of economics and business that can help parents break the endless cycle of quarrels and ineffective solutions. Raeburn and Zollman show that some of the same strategies successfully applied to big business deals and politics—such as the Prisoner’s Dilemma and the Ultimatum Game—can be used to solve such titanic, age-old parenting problems as dividing up toys, keeping the peace on long car rides, and sticking to homework routines. Raeburn and Zollman open each chapter with a common parenting dilemma. Then they show how carefully concocted schemes involving bargains and fair incentives can save the day. Through smart case studies of game theory in action, Raeburn and Zollman reveal how parents and children devise strategies, where those strategies go wrong, and what we can do to help raise happy and savvy kids while keeping the rest of the family happy too. Delightfully witty, refreshingly irreverent, and just a bit Machiavellian, The Game Theorist’s Guide to Parenting looks past the fads to offer advice you can put into action today.

Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of omniscience. As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the hour. "Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one of Mr. Byng's." "Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." "What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." "Unsuitable for you, sir." Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and that's all there is to it. But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, red-hot tabasco. "Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'"

A Jeeves and Wooster novel The beefy 'Stilton' Cheesewright has drawn Bertie Wooster as red-hot favourite in the Drones club annual darts tournament - which is lucky for Bertie because otherwise Stilton would have beaten him to a pulp and buttered the lawn with him. Stilton does not, after all like men who he thinks are trifling with his fiancée's affections. Meanwhile Bertie has committed a more heinous offence by growing a moustache, and Jeeves strongly disapproves - which is unfortunate, because Jeeves's feudal spirit is desperately needed. Bertie's Aunt Dahlia is trying to sell her magazine Milady's Boudoir to the Trotter Empire and still keep her amazing chef Anatole out of Lady Trotter's clutches. And Bertie? Bertie simply has to try to hold onto his moustache and hope he gets to the end in one piece.