I DO not speak it with regard to the coarseness or cleanness of them—or
the strength of their gussets——but pray do not night-shifts differ from
day-shifts as much in this particular, as in any thing else in the
world; that they so far exceed the others in length, that when you are
laid down in them, they fall almost as much below the feet, as the
day-shifts fall short of them?
Widow _Wadman_’s night-shifts (as was the mode I suppose in King
_William_’s and Queen _Anne_’s reigns) were cut however after this
fashion; and if the fashion is changed (for in _Italy_ they are come to
nothing)——so much the worse for the public; they were two _Flemish_
ells and a half in length, so that allowing a moderate woman two ells,
she had half an ell to spare, to do what she would with.
Now from one little indulgence gained after another, in the many bleak
and decemberley nights of a seven years widow-hood, things had
insensibly come to this pass, and for the two last years had got
establish’d into one of the ordinances of the bed-chamber—That as soon
as Mrs. _Wadman_ was put to bed, and had got her legs stretched down to
the bottom of it, of which she always gave _Bridget_ notice—_Bridget_,
with all suitable decorum, having first open’d the bed-clothes at the
feet, took hold of the half-ell of cloth we are speaking of, and having
gently, and with both her hands, drawn it downwards to its furthest
extension, and then contracted it again side-long by four or five even
plaits, she took a large corking-pin out of her sleeve, and with the
point directed towards her, pinn’d the plaits all fast together a
little above the hem; which done, she tuck’d all in tight at the feet,
and wish’d her mistress a good night.
This was constant, and without any other variation than this; that on
shivering and tempestuous nights, when _Bridget_ untuck’d the feet of
the bed, &c. to do this——she consulted no thermometer but that of her
own passions; and so performed it standing—kneeling—or squatting,
according to the different degrees of faith, hope, and charity, she was
in, and bore towards her mistress that night. In every other respect,
the _etiquette_ was sacred, and might have vied with the most
mechanical one of the most inflexible bed-chamber in _Christendom._
The first night, as soon as the corporal had conducted my uncle _Toby_
up stairs, which was about ten——Mrs. _Wadman_ threw herself into her
arm-chair, and crossing her left knee with her right, which formed a
resting-place for her elbow, she reclin’d her cheek upon the palm of
her hand, and leaning forwards, ruminated till midnight upon both sides
of the question.
The second night she went to her bureau, and having ordered _Bridget_
to bring her up a couple of fresh candles and leave them upon the
table, she took out her marriage-settlement, and read it over with
great devotion: and the third night (which was the last of my uncle
_Toby_’s stay) when _Bridget_ had pull’d down the night-shift, and was
assaying to stick in the corking pin——
——With a kick of both heels at once, but at the same time the most
natural kick that could be kick’d in her situation——for supposing * * *
* * * * * * to be the sun in its meridian, it was a north-east
kick——she kick’d the pin out of her fingers——the _etiquette_ which hung
upon it, down——down it fell to the ground, and was shiver’d into a
thousand atoms.
From all which it was plain that widow _Wadman_ was in love with my
uncle _Toby._