While reading, C was taken with the notion of At-Home Days and vowed to host a reception night of his own, when all the folk throughout the land would know that they could find C ready to receive them. PE drifted gently into the clouds of whatever it is that obscures beautiful princesses from the mundane, but C remained faithful to his oath to keep Wednesday nights open to all who cared to join him in his humble abode. His home drifted a bit and was sometimes quite humble indeed.
When he was sharing a small commorancy with several random compatriots, C fell madly in love with still another beautiful damsel. She felt that weekly reception nights were cumbersome and convinced C that a congregation of friends would be better suited as a less frequent affair, say, on the first Friday of each month. A small band of confederates objected: Wednesday nights had become their sole point of social contact and the thought of losing this slender thread led to wailing, gnashing, etc. A stout-hearted fellow stepped up and promised to carry on the tradition and so he has ever since.
All who have slogged through the better part of a week can take comfort in the knowledge that from 8-11pm on a Wednesday night, succor and ale may be found at the manse of