"'Well, it's a lie!' he says back, pointing at you with his finger. 'Because it ain't like her.' And he got closer.
"'See here,' he says, 'have you just been trying to get gay with me to-night? Huh!--well, I'm just going to box your jaws for luck!'
"'What?' you gasps--'what's that?'--and you storms up to him--'Why, you young puppy, do you know who you're talking to?' you says.
"'Bah!' he says, and he just goes up and snaps his fingers in your face. You chokes kinder, and then you yells at him: 'Why, you young ruffian, I've spanked you before, and I can do it again--'
"'Yah!' he says, making faces at you. '_You_ spanked! You hit me when I wasn't looking. My foot slipped.'
"'Foot slipped, you blanked fool!' you shouts at him, and then--" Jenkins wiped his forehead--"Then the next thing I see, you mixed."
"Ah!" I breathed with relief. "That's _better_!"
I chuckled. Then suddenly I felt remorseful.
"Where did I hit him this time, Jenkins--did you notice? Was he hurt much?"
Jenkins looked down, avoiding my eyes. "Um, _not_ exactly, sir," he said; "in fact, it was--er--kinder the other way."
Jenkins evidently did! His eyes expressed both pity and embarrassment.
"What he did to you,"--he rolled his glance upward, trying to shape the idea--"I believe, sir, it's what you might call"--his voice dropped--"I believe it's what they _do_ call wiping up the floor with."
"Finish!" I whispered, feebly flipping my hand at him.
"He left then, sir, but the noise brought Wilkes and we helped you up-stairs. You wouldn't go any farther than the door of the judge's bedroom--wanted to tell him, we supposed. When we got that far, I noticed Mr. Jack Billings' door--it's right opposite, you remember, sir--was standing just a little open. He called out very anxious and shrill: 'Oh, _do_ be very careful of the pajamas! My! my! I hope the pajamas are not hurt!'
"And at that, you just bangs inside the judge's room and in about two minutes, _he_ stuck his head out, looking kinder towsled and mad like he'd been waked from a sound sleep, and he fires a wrapped-up parcel at the door opposite and yells:
"'There are your pajamas, you unnatural, heartless prodigal! Pajamas, indeed, at such a time!' And then I see Mr. Jack's arm come out and fish the package inside.