“Don’t you think a pudding would go nicely with our brunch, or should we have scones and clotted cream?” remarked Raggety.
“Reasonable,” replied Mr. Grimalkin.
On Sunday morning, Raggety and Mr. Grimalkin traveled to town for their weekly brunch.
“I do hope their berries are fresh this week. Those dreadful pickled ones they had last week set my stomach on edge,” said Raggety.
Mr. Grimalkin nodded but held his tongue.
“Tom Twittle mentioned something about fresh oysters when we talked yesterday. Surely they could not have sold them all out. I do fancy a fresh oyster,” said Raggety.
Raggety’s friend rolled his eyes, all six of them, as he plodded down the lane.
“I do love when they have those little meat pies, the ones with fish eggs on the top, don’t you? asked Raggety.
Mr. Grimalkin did not say a word.
“How foolish of me, I’m sorry, I completely forgot you’re a vegan. Well, you can take it from me if you did partake of the flesh, you would adore those little tarts,” said Raggety.
“Possibly,” said his friend.
For as long as anyone could remember, the two companions would make their way to town to enjoy a culinary feast. Raggety did the talking while Mr. Grimalkin did the walking.
“This week, we must get a bottle of the Château Muxlar 27 before they sell out. Or should we go with the standby Ruskie Red?” questioned Raggety.
“Both are fine,” replied the walker.
“It’s settled. The 27 it is,” said Raggety, grinning.
So it went, Raggety rammbling on while Mr. Grimalkin nodded. That’s the way they liked it, and that’s the way it would stay until the end of their days.
“I wonder if we should take a box of honey biscuits home for tea, what do you think?” said Raggety.
“Reasonable,” came his friend’s reply.
Folks hoped Raggety would pass over first. They reckoned that would be the only time Mr. Grimalkin would have peace.
I’m certain that if Raggety is the first, the angels will smile when Mr. Grimalkin arrives and give them a break.
Folksburywoods 
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