Some Oxford men may be inclined to question the award
of an honorary D.Litt. degree to Mr. P. G. Wodehouse, but one eminent son of Oxford would have wholeheartedly applauded it. Mr. Wodehouse had no more fervent admirer than the first Lord Oxford and Asquith. The vicissitudes of Mr. Wooster, Jeeves, Lord Emsworth and the rest were not only a perpetual joy to him, but an unfailing solace in moments of stress. On that gloomy day when, on the morrow of his defeat at Paisley, he began his journey south in the chill of a Scottish winter morning, an intimate associate who was travelling with him broke the sombre silence with the anxious question " Have you, by any chance, got a P. G. Wodehouse with you?" The ex-Premier's face lightened. " I have got," he said, " not only one but two unread Wodehouses with me," and pulling the first of them from his bag he proceeded to drown memories of Paisley in that unfailing anodyne.
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