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He meant paying another visit that day, so was attired de rigueur, a fact at which Voles, pipe in mouth and lounging in pajamas, promptly scoffed. "Gee!" he cried. "Here's the Senator mooching round again, dressed up to the nines dust coat, morning suit, boots shining, all the frills but visiting low companions all the same. Why doesn't the man turn over a new leaf and become good?"
He sat up, rubbing his eyes and fumbling with the cordings of his pajamas. Bill was sitting on the edge of his bed, scowling and angry. "Got us? Got us?" Dick repeated vaguely. "Yes. Dynamited the Peltons, and I'm afraid that ain't all. We'll have to go up the pipe line to find out." Dick rolled out and jumped for his clothing.
William slipped on his longtailed coat over his pajamas, hurried downstairs and married them there in the moonlight, after having examined the license the young man handed in through the parlor window. And he looked well enough from the sill up, but from the sill down I doubt if his costume would have passed muster. Fortunately, no one thought of divorces in those days.
We had shelved with scarcely a jar sufficient to disturb those sleeping below, but in a twinkling Jackson, the mate, appeared on deck in his pajamas, and after a swift glance toward the familiar shore turned to me with the same dumfounded look that had frozen upon the face of the steersman. "What do you make of this?" he exclaimed, as I called for the lead.
They demurred. They said they couldn't wait about while I put on clothes. I pointed out that sky-blue pajamas with old-rose frogs were not the costume in which the editor of a great New York weekly paper should be seen abroad in one of the world's greatest cities, but they assured me more by their manner than their words that my misgivings were groundless, so I yielded.
He tried to grab hold of them, but he fell, and Wienerwurst after him, right plump among the pigtails, landing on the three Chinamen way down in the hole, and knocking them flat on their backs until their feet with the funny black slippers kicked in the air. Then they all got up and rubbed their tummies under the blue pajamas.
Prowler's pink pajamas were a better fit for him than Growler's paper collar which nearly concealed his pirate's nose, only the points of his whiskers and the tips of his black ears showing. Ann had added to his costume by the loan of her blue hair-ribbon which she had tied in a nice bow on the tip of his tail.
"Now, show me!" demanded the Professor after the camp had been lighted up. Stacy went into an elaborate explanation of what had occurred so far as he knew. He said something had grabbed them by the ankles and dragged them out under the tent. He showed where they had been dragged. The backs of their pajamas were evidence enough of this fact, the dirt being fairly ground into the cloth.
He looked in vain, however, and finally stepped up to a man who at first appeared to be clothed in pajamas, and my son was just going to inquire for the first officer, when the smoke cleared away a little revealing our fastidious but brave officer dressed in his nightgown, with his sword strapped around his waist, and a pistol stuck in his belt."
Then he goes over to the port-hole. "A very nice day!" he announces in the face of a bull's eye view of dull skies and oily dripping sea. "Is it? How kind of it! Ollie, I must get up." "Nancy, you must." He goes over and kneels awkwardly by the side of her berth an absurd figure enough no doubt in tortoise-shell spectacles and striped pajamas, but Nancy doesn't think so.
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