I was about to walk through the ancient church doorway, when I heard a slight cough, followed by a clearing of the throat. Startled, I looked to my right and to my slight surprise the carved head of a king began to speak...
"One doesn't like to moan
But being made of stone
Not being flesh and bone
Can make one feel alone"
Poor chap! Anyway, we ended up chatting for ages and when he pointed out that he hadn't had a drink for several hundred years I felt it only right and proper to offer him a cup of hot, steaming tea.
That's the thing about Ragged Rambling, one never knows what one is about to encounter next. It also reinforces my conviction that a true Ragged Rambler should carry the largest of flasks - just in case.