Bertie Learns About Bitcoin

A Jeeves & Wooster story

“Some days seem perfect,” I remarked, as I drained the trusty tumbler of its bracing contents. “Don’t they, Jeeves?”

Jeeves, who had been setting the bookshelves in order, shelved the task to consider.

“Indeed, sir,” he assented.

“No, Jeeves,” I retorted, for I had him exactly where I wished in the repartee. “I thought you would say that. But you are incorrect.”

“Sir?”

“You readily agreed,” I remarked, “indubitably in the best of feudal custom, to my statement. And, I am sorry to have to say this to you, Jeeves, but you are, on this rare occasion, wrong.”

I distinctly saw a minuscule frisson of surprise ripple through Jeeves’s upper lip. It was fleetingly brief, but to my trained eye it was undeniable.

“I am sorry, sir,” said he, regaining his usual poise instanter.

“Ah, well, you see,” I said, taking my time to rearrange the Wooster frame more expansively on the settee to instruct him.

Catching Jeeves on the back foot are events scarcer than a hen’s bicuspids. And they demanded to be savored and respected.

“You agreed with me when I threw a casual remark at you along the lines that some days seem…