Over the years, wise men and women seem to have more or less agreed that Wodehouse is unmatched as a writer of comic fiction. This book is where my love affair with Wodehouse began.
In this tale, wealthy if intellectually negligible man-about-town Bertie Wooster and his manservant, Jeeves, retrieve a silver creamer in the shape of a cow. Doesn't sound like much, does it? But I warn you, on no account should you drink milk while reading this novel in public. (You probably shouldn't be drinking milk in public anyway.)