It could only happen here! 3

After a wonderful day out, what better than dropping into the Little Pub to see the Big Brewer and enjoy some of his beer. Retired Architect was on a stool in the corner, and asked be if it was true that I wanted the church bells rung on certain evening a couple of weeks hence because there is a special event. No, I said, my message to the bell-ringers secretary was in fact exactly the opposite; please DON’T ring that night, as I will be trying to hold a meeting in church and don’t want to have to do it against a background of pealing bells. Neither of us understood how the message got so totally mangled in just two transmissions; he assured me he would put it right; I’m not convinced.

Musician with Hat, Mumbling Carpenter and Local Lad were also now present, and we all, discreetly, listened in to the conversation of the three real ale tourists sitting by the fire. The clock ticked and we supped. Eventually the tourists stopped discussing the merits of the beer and of automatic gearboxes as against manual ones. They all stood up and made ready to leave. “We must be getting back to Birmingham!” said one, which produced the chorus response from all the rest of us; “WHY?”