Thursday, 13 September 2012

In search of Wee Davey

Intrepid explorers have failed in such tasks previously, but one of the Society's taller associates scored a famous victory just recently.
Suitably attired in the Rambler's summer friend, the cotton lined hemp twine hat, an exploration of damp and humid climes was to reveal the whereabouts of Wee Davy's lair.
With trepidation, and treacle tart in hand, the sequoia framed body of the Rambler stooped and tapped gently on the oak door.
A creaking and squeaking ensued and the tall fellow stood up. The door was then opened to reveal that Wee Davey was not at home.
Perhaps he was out with his chums eating hot pikelets and marmalade. Who knows?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone



  1. The last I saw of Wee Davey was when he was swinging through the trees wearing his "Ungower Wee Davey' Tarzan style Ragged Rambler livery. I had given him a 5 shilling note and sent him to the shops to fetch me some strawberry bootlaces and a couple of ounces of shag, but he took to the trees and never came back.

    The little tyke

  2. Word on the street is that he's hanging with Tiny Tony Tipper. And that Tiny Tony Tipper is smaller than a kipper, but always very chipper. That's what the word on the street is.

  3. Last I heard they were both seen hanging about Binham Priory car park trying to score fickle cake.

    The little tykes!

    1. Yes its true. They took my innocence and wouldn't give it back until I shared the last of my flask tea with them.