Who do you think takes care of baby Jeeves when Rockerduck is out or busy?
I like to think that Bradford babysits Jeeves.
There’s a line in George Orwell’s 1946 essay “In Defence of P. G. Wodehouse” where, in the course of discussing how Wodehouse’s work hewed closer to a fantasy Edwardian England than a fantasy interwar Britain, he wrote “...and Bertie Wooster, if he did exist, was killed in 1915.” That line has always haunted me in a way, and I believe that both for his good and our own, Bertie should always be kept far away from the horrors of the Great War.