Programming note: If you missed today's Clubland Q&A live around the planet, the action replay will be posted shortly.
Meanwhile, welcome to Part Six of our nightly audio entertainment - The Secret Adversary, an early Agatha Christie caper of Tommy & Tuppence attempting to scuttle coup-fomenting Bolshevists on the mean streets of London. James Fulford, a Mark Steyn Club member and my fellow Torontonian, writes:
Since the duo have been forced to advertise again, it's worth noting that an ad in the paper started the adventurous careers of not only Tommy and Tuppence, but Wodehouse's Rupert Psmith...and Hugh 'Bulldog' Drummond. ('Clubland Hero' Drummond didn't need the money, though—he just found post WWI peace dull.)
Indeed, James. I had forgotten until reading this serialisation that, in the pre-Internet world, putting a small ad in The Times (London) was the equivalent of going on Tik-Tok and becoming an "influencer". Maybe we should make that a separate category in Tales for Our Time - literary figures whose careers were launched by the Thunderer: Tales from The Times. For the record, here is Psmith's ad:
Well-educated young man, 28, seeks position of trust; ready to go anywhere and do anything.
And here is Bulldog Drummond's:
Demobilised officer, finding peace unbearably tedious would welcome any excitement. Legitimate, if possible, but crime of humourous description, no objection. Reply at once.
I've already serialised Psmith, but maybe it's time to have a crack at Drummond.
In tonight's episode of The Secret Adversary, Tommy is undercover at the Lyons' Corner House:
Just before the Bond Street Tube station they crossed the road, Tommy, unperceived, faithfully at their heels, and entered the big Lyons'. There they went up to the first floor, and sat at a small table in the window. It was late, and the place was thinning out. Tommy took a seat at the table next to them, sitting directly behind Whittington in case of recognition. On the other hand, he had a full view of the second man and studied him attentively. He was fair, with a weak, unpleasant face, and Tommy put him down as being either a Russian or a Pole. He was probably about fifty years of age, his shoulders cringed a little as he talked, and his eyes, small and crafty, shifted unceasingly.
Having already lunched heartily, Tommy contented himself with ordering a Welsh rarebit and a cup of coffee...
Members of The Mark Steyn Club can hear Part Six of our tale simply by clicking here and logging-in. Feel free to grab a Welsh rarebit to go with it. Earlier episodes can be found here.
If you're in the mood for something more immediately dystopian of an evening, my serialisation of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four can be heard here.
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