Bertie Wooster observing his fellow Drone, Tuppy Glossop, playing rugby:
There’s nothing like a bit of rest and what you might call folding of the hands for freshening up the shop-soiled athlete. The dirty work, resumed after this brief breather, started off with an added vim which it did one good to see. And the life and soul of the party was young Tuppy.
You know, only meeting a fellow at lunch or at the races or loafing around country houses and so forth, you don’t get on to his hidden depths, if you know what I mean. Until this moment, if asked, I would have said that Tuppy Glossop was, on the whole, essentially a pacific sort of bloke, with little or nothing of the tiger of the jungle in him. Yet here he was, running to and fro with fire streaming from his nostrils, a positive danger to traffic.
---from The Ordeal of Young Tuppy by P.G. Wodehouse, born October 15, 1881.