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Bingo Boffin was having a bad day. He'd lost a lamb in the woods and spent half the day trying to find it. Finally, after hours of searching he managed to find the lamb and get it back with the rest of his small heard, but it had made him terribly late for dinner. His wife would be in an uproar, he well knew, and he had no desire to see her just yet. The only thing that could save the day for poor old Bingo was a mug of his favorite beer at the Green Dragon. He quietly slipped his sheep into their paddock for the night and snuck away to the south without his wife's knowledge.
The walk was not terribly long, but Bingo was out of shape. He came puffing down the road as fast as his short legs would bring him. He spotted the inn from a distance and noticed a large crowd inside. The sounds of laughing and singing reached his ears, even from that distance. "Well then," Bingo exclaimed, "looks to be a party of the big people in there. It would be just plain rude to burst into their party uninvited and dirty from my day." Bingo pouted and spun on his heels to leave. The prospect of facing his wife, without even a drink of ale in his stomach, made his brief walk home seem like an eternity.
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