I DON THE PAJAMAS
"By Jove, Jenkins, they fit like a dream!"
I twisted before the glass and surveyed the pajamas with much satisfaction. They looked jolly right from every point. Moreover, with all their easy looseness, there was not an inch too much. They had a comfortable, personal feel.
"Lucky thing they weren't made originally for some whale like Jack Billings—eh, Jenkins?" I commented musingly.
Behind his hand Jenkins indulged in what is vulgarly known as a snicker.
"Mr. Billings, sir, he couldn't get one shoulder in 'em, much less a—h'm—leg," he chuckled. "They'd be in ribbons, sir!"
I yawned sleepily, and Jenkins instantly sobered to attention. He held his finger over the light switch as I punched a pillow and rolled over on the mattress.
"All right," I said; "push the jolly thing out." And with a click darkness fell about me.
"Good night, sir," came Jenkins' voice softly.
"Night," I murmured faintly, and I was off.