I am a bit perturbed. Nothing to signify, really, but still just a spot concerned. As I sat in the old flat, idly touching the strings of my banjolele, an instrument to which I had become greatly addicted of late, and you couldn't have said that the brow was actually furrowed, and yet, on the other hand, you couldn't have stated absolutely that it wasn't. Perhaps the word 'pensive' aboput covers it. It seemed to me that a situation fraught with embarrassing potentialities had arisen.
Opening paragraph of Thank You Jeeves, by P.G. Wodehouse, 1934. The banjo uke has a central role to play in this delightful comical novel about the tribulations of Bertie Wooster.

I picked up The Jeeves Omnibus vol. 1, in Ottawa, while at a convention. It's a collection of three Jeeves-related novels. This particular novel is well worth reading by every banjo ukulele player. But since Wodehouse is so much fun, I recommend everyone - not just ukulele players - read him. If you play the music of the era, then you really must read Wodehouse.