[Arry]

He sat sharing a pipe with Harold, their talk turning to matters of the upcoming party. Alwin motioned with his hand to the tables and chairs that now graced the Common Room. ‘I don’t think you need to worry about doing something more for the party. Look what you’ve already done.’ The tables were all polished, their smooth surfaces glinting softly in the light from the windows. Those chairs not already in use, stood ready for the influx of visitors to the Inn that would surely accompany the announcement of a party.

The door to the Inn was open, held so by one of the sawhorses. There were still items that needed to be moved back into the Inn and the workmen found it easier just to leave the door open. Harold had just fished out his pouch of tobacco, preparing to fill his pipe again, when Alwin heard the loud clip-clop of hooves against the wood of the Inn steps and porch. He stood up, frowning at the sound.

Then, there, framed in the doorway was a little brown muzzle followed by the ears and stocky body of one of the Inn ponies. Alwin glanced out the window and saw the rest of the ponies and horses milling about in the yard. Someone had forgotten to fasten them into their pen. Alwin gasped and motioned for Harold to take a look. The horses were eating the flowers from the front gardens, and through the window on the opposite side of the Inn, the ponies could be seen munching on the salad greens and scaring the chickens, who clucked loudly at the intruders.

Alwin grabbed hold of the pony who’d come in to nose through the plate of pastries on one of the tables; Harold led the way back out to the Inn yard to begin the rest of the round-up . . .