(Warning, foul language and inappropriate stories follow. Children should not continue reading this.)

You always have to be careful when you select someone to speak to a group of young children. Will the speaker be appropriate for the children, or will they use bad language or mature topics? You must use wisdom in picking your speaker.

Clearly, Bertie Wooster is not a good pick. Here is his speech to Miss Tomlinson’s girls school as recorded in Bertie Changes His Mind as narrated by his valet Jeeves:

‘Girls,’ said Miss Tomlinson, ‘some of you have already met Mr Wooster–Mr Bertram Wooster, and you all, I hope, know him by reputation.’ Here, I regret to say, Mr Wooster gave a hideous, gurgling laugh, and, catching Miss Tomlinson’s eye, turned a bright scarlet. Miss Tomlinson resumed: ‘He has very kindly consented to say a few words to you befor ehe leaves, and I am sure that you will all give him your very earnest attention. No, please.’ ….

‘Well, you know–’ he said.

Then it seemed to strike him that this opening lacked the proper formal dignity.

‘Ladies–’

A silvery peal of laughter from the front row stopped him again.

‘Girls!’ said Miss Tomlinson. She spoke in a low, soft voice, but the effect was immediate. Perfect stillness instantly descended upon all present. I am bound to say that, brief as my acquaintance with Miss Tomlinson had been, I could recall few women I had admired more. She had grip.

I fancy that Miss Tomlinson had gauged Mr Wooster’s oratorical capabilities pretty correctly by this time, and had come to the conclusion that little in the way of a stirring address was to be expected from him.

‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘as it is getting late, and he has not very much time to spare, Mr Wooster will just give you some little words of advice which may be helpful to you in after-life, and then we will sing the school song and disperse to our evening lessons.’

She looked at Mr Wooster. He passed a finger round the inside of his collar.

‘Advice? After-life? What? Well, I don’t know–’

‘Just some brief word of counsel, Mr Wooster,’ said Miss Tomlinson firmly.

‘Oh, well–Well, yes–Well–’ It was painful to see Mr Wooster’s brain endeavouring to work. ‘Well, I’ll tell you something that’s often done me a bit of good, and it’s a thing not many people know. My old Uncle Henry gave me the tip when I first came to London. “Never forget, my boy,” he said, “that, if you stand outside Romano’s in the Strand, you can see the clock on the wall of the Law Courts down in Fleet Street. Most people who don’t know don’t believe it’s possible, because there are a couple of churches in the middle of the road, and you would think they would be in the way. But you can, and it’s worth knowing. You can win a lot of money betting on it with fellows who haven’t found it out.” And by Jove, he was perfectly right, and it’s a thing to remember. Many a quid I–’

Miss Tomlinson gave a hard, dry cough, and he stopped in the middle of a sentence.

‘Perhaps it will be better, Mr Wooster,’ she said, in a cold, even voice, ‘if you were to tell my girls some little story. What you say is, no doubt, extremely interesting, but perhaps a little–’

‘Oh, ah, yes,’ said Mr Wooster. ‘Story? Story?’ He appeared completely distraught, poor young gentleman. ‘I wonder if you’ve heard the one about the stockbroker and the chorus-girl?’

‘We will now sing the school song,’ said Miss Tomlinson, rising like an iceberg.

Thus ends Bertie Wooster’s carear as a children’s speaker.

But picking a bad speaker for children isn’t limited to fiction.

Headline Telegraph: Vicar and children’s author thrown out of the classroom for swearing

A parish priest who became a best-selling children’s author was asked to leave a secondary school because he used “inappropriate language” during a talk to 11- and 12-year-old pupils.

Teachers halted the talk be G P Taylor, the author of Shadowmancer, after he used words such as bum, arse, bogey, fart and crap.