Psmith in the City

by P. G. Wodehouse

  13. Mike is Moved On

  This episode may be said to have concluded the first act of thecommercial drama in which Mike and Psmith had been cast for leadingparts. And, as usually happens after the end of an act, there was alull for a while until things began to work up towards another climax.Mike, as day succeeded day, began to grow accustomed to the life of thebank, and to find that it had its pleasant side after all. Whenever anumber of people are working at the same thing, even though that thingis not perhaps what they would have chosen as an object in life, ifleft to themselves, there is bound to exist an atmosphere ofgood-fellowship; something akin to, though a hundred times weakerthan, the public school spirit. Such a community lacks the main motiveof the public school spirit, which is pride in the school and itsachievements. Nobody can be proud of the achievements of a bank. Whenthe business of arranging a new Japanese loan was given to the NewAsiatic Bank, its employees did not stand on stools, and cheer. On thecontrary, they thought of the extra work it would involve; and theycursed a good deal, though there was no denying that it was a big thingfor the bank--not unlike winning the Ashburton would be to a school.There is a cold impersonality about a bank. A school is a living thing.

  Setting aside this important difference, there was a good deal of thepublic school about the New Asiatic Bank. The heads of departments werenot quite so autocratic as masters, and one was treated more on agrown-up scale, as man to man; but, nevertheless, there remained adistinct flavour of a school republic. Most of the men in the bank,with the exception of certain hard-headed Scotch youths drafted in fromother establishments in the City, were old public school men. Mikefound two Old Wrykinians in the first week. Neither was well known tohim. They had left in his second year in the team. But it was pleasantto have them about, and to feel that they had been educated at theright place.

  As far as Mike's personal comfort went, the presence of these twoWrykinians was very much for the good. Both of them knew all about hiscricket, and they spread the news. The New Asiatic Bank, like mostLondon banks, was keen on sport, and happened to possess a cricket teamwhich could make a good game with most of the second-rank clubs. Thedisappearance to the East of two of the best bats of the previousseason caused Mike's advent to be hailed with a good deal ofenthusiasm. Mike was a county man. He had only played once for hiscounty, it was true, but that did not matter. He had passed the barrierwhich separates the second-class bat from the first-class, and the bankwelcomed him with awe. County men did not come their way every day.

  Mike did not like being in the bank, considered in the light of acareer. But he bore no grudge against the inmates of the bank, such ashe had borne against the inmates of Sedleigh. He had looked on thelatter as bound up with the school, and, consequently, enemies. Hisfellow workers in the bank he regarded as companions in misfortune.They were all in the same boat together. There were men from Tonbridge,Dulwich, Bedford, St Paul's, and a dozen other schools. One or two ofthem he knew by repute from the pages of Wisden. Bannister, hischeerful predecessor in the Postage Department, was the Bannister, herecollected now, who had played for Geddington against Wrykyn in hissecond year in the Wrykyn team. Munroe, the big man in the FixedDeposits, he remembered as leader of the Ripton pack. Every day broughtfresh discoveries of this sort, and each made Mike more reconciled tohis lot. They were a pleasant set of fellows in the New Asiatic Bank,and but for the dreary outlook which the future held--for Mike, unlikemost of his follow workers, was not attracted by the idea of a life inthe East--he would have been very fairly content.

  The hostility of Mr Bickersdyke was a slight drawback. Psmith haddeveloped a habit of taking Mike with him to the club of an evening;and this did not do anything towards wiping out of the manager's mindthe recollection of his former passage of arms with the Old Wrykinian.The glass remaining Set Fair as far as Mr Rossiter's approval wasconcerned, Mike was enabled to keep off the managerial carpet to agreat extent; but twice, when he posted letters without going throughthe preliminary formality of stamping them, Mr Bickersdyke hadopportunities of which he availed himself. But for these incidents lifewas fairly enjoyable. Owing to Psmith's benevolent efforts, the PostageDepartment became quite a happy family, and ex-occupants of the postagedesk, Bannister especially, were amazed at the change that had comeover Mr Rossiter. He no longer darted from his lair like a pouncingpanther. To report his subordinates to the manager seemed now to be alost art with him. The sight of Psmith and Mr Rossiter proceeding highand disposedly to a mutual lunch became quite common, and ceased toexcite remark.

  'By kindness,' said Psmith to Mike, after one of these expeditions. 'Bytact and kindness. That is how it is done. I do not despair of trainingComrade Rossiter one of these days to jump through paper hoops.'

  So that, altogether, Mike's life in the bank had become very fairlypleasant.

  Out of office-hours he enjoyed himself hugely. London was strange tohim, and with Psmith as a companion, he extracted a vast deal ofentertainment from it. Psmith was not unacquainted with the West End,and he proved an excellent guide. At first Mike expostulated withunfailing regularity at the other's habit of paying for everything, butPsmith waved aside all objections with languid firmness.

  'I need you, Comrade Jackson,' he said, when Mike lodged a protest onfinding himself bound for the stalls for the second night insuccession. 'We must stick together. As my confidential secretary andadviser, your place is by my side. Who knows but that between the actstonight I may not be seized with some luminous thought? Could I utterthis to my next-door neighbour or the programme-girl? Stand by me,Comrade Jackson, or we are undone.'

  So Mike stood by him.

  By this time Mike had grown so used to his work that he could tell towithin five minutes when a rush would come; and he was able to spend agood deal of his time reading a surreptitious novel behind a pile ofledgers, or down in the tea-room. The New Asiatic Bank supplied tea toits employees. In quality it was bad, and the bread-and-butterassociated with it was worse. But it had the merit of giving one anexcuse for being away from one's desk. There were large printed noticesall over the tea-room, which was in the basement, informing gentlementhat they were only allowed ten minutes for tea, but one took just aslong as one thought the head of one's department would stand, fromtwenty-five minutes to an hour and a quarter.

  This state of things was too good to last. Towards the beginning of theNew Year a new man arrived, and Mike was moved on to anotherdepartment.