Jeeves and Wooster return in a new espionage caper full of japes, high jinks, and jiggery-pokery in a series that is “impossible to read without grinning idiotically” (Evening Standard). The Drones club’s in peril. Gussie’s in love. Spode’s on the war path. Oh, and His Majesty’s Government needs a favor . . . I say! It’s a good thing Bertie’s back, what? In his eagerly anticipated sequel to Jeeves and the King of Clubs, Ben Schott leads Jeeves and Wooster on another elegantly uproarious escapade. From the mean streets of Mayfair to the scheming spires of Cambridge, we encounter a joyous cast of characters: chiseling painters and criminal bookies, eccentric philosophers and dodgy clairvoyants, appalling poets and pocket dictators, vexatious aunts and their vicious hounds. But that’s not all: Who is ICEBERG, and why is he covered in chalk? Why is Jeeves reading Winnie-the-Pooh? What is seven across and eighty-five down? How do you play Russian Roulette at The Savoy? These questions, and more, are answered in Jeeves and the Leap of Faith — an homage to P.G. Wodehouse, authorized by his estate, and essential reading for fans of The Master. Tinkety-tonk!

When young man about town Bertie Wooster, nursing a broken heart, agrees to help his old friend Peregrine Woody Beeching, whose own romance is failing, hilarity and chaos ensue as Jeeves, the very epitome of the modern manservant, steps in to save Bertie from himself. 100,000 first printing.

In The Inimitable Jeeves, Bertie Wooster and his valet Jeeves embark on a series of riotous adventures. Among other things they involve Bertie's feeble attempts to stop his friend Bingo Little from falling in love with every girl he meets. But the amiable chump's main concern is to avoid the eagle eye and iron will of his merciless Aunt Agatha. In one of the funniest works in the English language, P. G. Wodehouse charms, delights, and occasionally surprises the reader with his shrewd parody of the carefree lives of the English elite.

Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of omniscience. As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the hour. "Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one of Mr. Byng's." "Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." "What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." "Unsuitable for you, sir." Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and that's all there is to it. But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, red-hot tabasco. "Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'"

It is old Bertie Wooster's habit to land in the soup from time to time. To get into a spot of bother. Circumstances, aided and abetted by Aunt Agatha, Aunt Dahlia, Bingo Little, Tuppy, Sippy and others, seem to conspire against him, and a frightful muddle ensues. Enter Jeeves, the source of all solace. Jeeves of the infinite sagacity. Jeeves, that noiseless provider of deliverance from the hangover, a bird of the ripest intellect, calm and wise enough to rescue Bertie and his pals from the most fearful scrapes. Jeeves, that subtle master of prudence, good taste and ineffable composure. Where would that chump Bertie be without him? This omnibus edition will delight newcomers to Wodehouse as well as those already familiar with his sunny universe and his sparkling prose. It contains Right Ho, Jeeves, The Inimitable Jeeves and Very Good, Jeeves. Book jacket.

Laugh till you cry in this new collection of stories from the award-winning “Serena Williams of humor writing” (New York Times Book Review) about raising babies and trying not to be one. Called a “comedic Godsend” by Conan O’Brien and “the Stephen King of comedy writing” by John Mulaney, Simon Rich is back with New Teeth, his funniest and most personal collection yet. Two murderous pirates find a child stowaway on board and attempt to balance pillaging with co-parenting. A woman raised by wolves prepares for her parents’ annual Thanksgiving visit. An aging mutant superhero is forced to learn humility when the mayor kicks him upstairs to a desk job. And in the hard-boiled caper “The Big Nap,” a weary two-year-old detective struggles to make sense of “a world gone mad.” Equal parts silly and sincere, New Teeth is an ode to growing up, growing older, and what it means to make a family.

When you're in the mood for top-notch humor writing, only the very best will do. Dive into "The Clicking of Cuthbert" for an array of golf-themed belly laughs. A must-read for Wodehouse buffs, golf fanatics, or anyone who appreciates Wodehouse's gift for the guffaw-provoking turn of phrase.