_{Write a story in which something is learned. It can be scholarly lessons, life lessons, farming lessons, weapons training, whatever you wish.}

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, these wonderful hobbits aren’t mine--they belong to JRR Tolkien.

Written for Marigold's Challenge #5.  A companion story to Irrepressible Pippin. In Irrepressible Pippin, Merry aids Pippin in a…prank, and so earned himself a seat in the same “classroom” as his cousin. Degger is an OC.

The Substitute

By Pippinfan

“I’m sorry about Master Breddo, Papa.” Young Pippin sat in the study, along with his cousin Merry, taking the news of their Tutor very hard--seemingly. Master Breddo Goldwine, famous tutor to the affluent hobbits took a spill down the garden steps, breaking a leg.

“So am I, son,” Paladin patted his son’s shoulders. “But I’ve written a friend in Bree who knows of another tutor there who is has established herself a wonderful reputation in higher learning.”

“So soon?” At Paladin’s raised eyebrows, Pippin quickly added, “I mean, ought we to we to mourn Master Breddo’s broken leg for a few weeks? I should think it too soon for Merry and I to throw ourselves into our studies with a new tutor and all.”

Paladin knew instantly what his son was up to. He took young Pippin’s chin in his hands, “Mourning broken bones now are we?” he grinned. “Her name is Mistress Hemlock.”

Merry sat at his normal desk--by the window--with his arms resting on the surface. “But you assigned my punishment with Master Breddo, Uncle,” Merry was quick to point out, hoping to squirm out of his retribution for aiding and abetting his young cousin’s escape from Master Breddo two weeks previous. “If he is not here, then may I assume that my sentence is paid in full?” Merry sighed when the response he received was a hard glare from his dear uncle.

“I don’t understand you lads,” answered Paladin. “And both of you,” he glanced again towards Merry, “are going to attend--two days hence.” Merry laid his head upon his arms, moaning his lack of enthusiasm.

“Miss Hemlock, is it?” asked Pippin. “Sounds poisonous to me.” His little comment garnered a laugh from Merry.

“There will be none of that!” Paladin corrected his son.

After Paladin left the room, the lads discussed their misfortunes further. “This is going to be the longest week of my life!” Merry grumbled.

Pippin felt no sympathy for his friend. “You only have one week left,” he said, “I have her for the next two months until Master Breddo returns.” Then he drew closer to his cousin, “If this is the same Miss Hemlock that some of our north farthing cousins have had, then we’re in trouble!” Then Pippin had an idea. “What if we make her want to leave?”

Merry looked up, “What are you talking about? As in chase her away? That’s pure wickedness, Pip.” Then he smiled, “What do you have in mind?”

Two Days Later…

Pippin and Merry stood next to one another as Paladin introduced the Tutor to her new students.

Miss Hemlock thought Merry looked rather tall to be a thirteen year old like the younger child. “How old are you, Master Merry?”

Merry rubbed his nose as he replied, “Twnanenty.”

She puzzled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you.”

“He’s a tween!” Pippin teased, grinning impishly as he answered for his cousin.

The Tutor was surprised to see an older lad in the group. “A tween? Twenty, then, did you say?”

“Long story,” was Merry’s only reply. “It’s only for punishment.”

“I hope that learning under my tutoring will not seem so severe!” she winked at him. Then her attention went to the smaller lad. Miss Hemlock smiled at Pippin, “Such a sweet young laddie--I’m most certain we’ll get along just fine.” She never saw Pippin’s narrowed eyes as she looked around the room; no other children were among her charges. She saw no other children in the room except for the serving-lad collecting the tea trays from their meeting. “Are there no other children, Mister Paladin?”

“Others? Were there supposed to be others?”

“I was expecting there to be a larger group of children since Great Smials is such a vast dwelling.”

“Well,” Paladin grimaced, scratching his head in quick thought. “Most families hire their own Tutors. Mister Breddo was initially hired for only Pippin, but it seems Merry wanted to join in Pippin’s fun.” Merry didn’t laugh. The clinking of ceramic dishware broke into Paladin’s thoughts. He saw the serving-lad working diligently in stacking the plates and cups. No!, he thought to himself. Paladin honestly could care less what the other inhabitants of Great Smials thought of an educated servant, but how would the lad fare? Would he be able to keep up with Pippin--or Merry? The servers had all received basic lessons in letters, writing and numbers. His mind was made up; this boy deserved the same chance at life--and it was within Paladin’s power to help him achieve it. “Degger, come here, lad.”

Degger looked up abruptly, then turned to his benefactor, “Yes, sir? Ye want more tea, sir?”

“No, lad,” Paladin smiled. “Come stand over here next to Pippin.”

Just then, Pervinca came into the room. “Father, mother wants to know if you’re eating luncheon with her in the garden or in the dining room.”

Paladin started to answer, “In the gard--” Then he had another idea. Very few hobbit lasses went on to further their elementary education. “Pervinca, dear, come stand next to Degger.”

Pervinca looked warily at the line-up of lads. “Why? Have I done something wrong, Father?” In her mind, she combed through her actions beginning from getting out of bed that morning through to entering the room. No; she hadn’t been up to any mischief…yet.

Paladin smiled; the group of students was now complete.

Special Delivery

Pippin watched Merry walk into the study and lob his books onto the desk, then flop into the chair. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

“I was up past midnight reading everything she assigned to me--and doing your dirty work,” he yawned. “I was halfway through my essay when I fell asleep.” He shook his head, “This is no good, Pip.”

“What do you mean--my dirty work? I thought we were in this together. Besides, I had lots of reading to do myself last night.” Pippin scooted closer to his cousin. “Do you have them?”

Merry handed over a folded handkerchief to his young cousin, “Let’s not do this, Pip. It was funny while planning it, but it all seems wicked now.”

Pippin opened the handkerchief to discover two little worms squirming inside the folds. Pippin listened to his cousin and thought better of his plan. “Perhaps you’re right, Merry. Even if we chase away Miss Hemlock, Father would find a replacement for her in a matter of hours.” He sighed, “Now what do I do with these?”

Just then Pervinca walked into the study, bright eyed and bushy-tailed. Pippin quickly refolded the handkerchief. “Good morning, lads!” she greeted them cheerily, sitting daintily at her desk facing Pippin’s. She carried in with her several books with a small stack of papers. Pervinca shuffled them neatly, placing each written essay atop its corresponding book. Merry and Pippin silently looked at each other--rolling their eyes in mock disgust.

Next to walk in was Degger; two years younger than Merry, but not much taller than Pippin. Degger laid his books quietly on his desk, next to Pervinca’s, blinking like an owl.

“Are you all right, Degger?” Merry asked. Degger nodded, rubbing his eyes. It seemed everyone was doing a lot of reading last night.

Last to walk into the room was Miss Hemlock. “Good morning, lads--and lasses!” she smiled at Pervinca.

They chorused their greeting, “Good morning, Miss Hemlock.”

As Miss Hemlock pulled the lessons for that day out of her bag, her nose had a sudden itch. “Achoo!” She searched her bag for a clean handkerchief.

“Pippin!” Pervinca called to her brother, wondering at his discourtesy, “give her your handkerchief!” Pippin remembered the “special” handkerchief in his hand. Eyes wide with fear, he shook his head at his sister. “Pippin!” Pervinca was growing embarrassed by her brother’s rudeness. With tight restraint in her voice, she reproved him, “You are given clean handkerchiefs every morning--give her one!”

Perhaps young Pippin was shy; Miss Hemlock made an attempt to help out the bashful lad. “Pippin, may I?” she indicated with a nod towards the handkerchief in his hand.

Slowly, Pippin handed Miss Hemlock his handkerchief then waited for life as he knew it to be over with. He felt Merry kick him under the desk. Next came the ear-splitting scream. Miss Hemlock had dropped the handkerchief in her terror--right on Pervinca’s desk. Pervinca jumped up from her desk and was now screaming. Pippin covered his ears as two screaming lasses shrieked in hysterics at the two slimy worms slithered upon his sister’s desk. Degger rose from his seat scooped up the handkerchief and worms, then tossed them out the window Merry had opened for him. Just as this gallant deed was accomplished, Paladin barged into the room and demanded to know what all the noise was about. The next thing Pippin knew, his father was hauling out of the room by his pointed ear.

Lessons Learned

Merry sat in his uncle’s office, miserable as any young tween hobbit could be; Paladin had just tacked another week of studies onto Merry’s current punishment. “You lads ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” he admonished, glaring at the two young hobbits sitting on the couch. “Trying to run off a nice tutor such as Miss Hemlock!”

“It was an accident, father. It was Pervinca who bullied me into giving Miss Hemlock the handkerchief.” He saw his father raise his eyebrows in doubt. “Well, it seemed like she was bullying me.”

“Pippin, it seems you only had a change of heart this morning. From the start of things you and Merry had a wicked scheme to drive away your new tutor--and for that, since it appears you lads like to dig in the dirt, you both will have gardening duties for one hour every afternoon as soon as your lessons are finished.”

In the Garden

Later that day, Merry and Pippin were in their work clothes weeding out the roses in the north garden. Pippin looked over at his cousin when he heard humming.

“Don’t look at me,” said Merry, “you won’t hear me singing while weeding the garden!” Both lads turned back to their work when Miss Hemlock appeared from the garden path carrying two baskets; one for gardening and the other one was covered with linen napkins.

“Good afternoon, lads,” she said, smiling as she set down her baskets. “I don’t wish to interrupt your task, but is that bit of earth over there taken?”

Merry looked to where she was pointing. “No, ma’am.”

“Then I hope the gardener doesn’t mind that I take it to grow a few flowers of my own,” Miss Hemlock replied. She then kneeled down and began digging with her trowel.

Pippin was busy into his weeding when he felt something cold tickle on his neck. Then Merry began to snicker. Pippin quickly turned towards the cold tickle only to find Miss Hemlock hovering over him--holding a worm. It startled Pippin to see a grown lass aiming a worm at him. “What are you doing?” he promptly brushed away the cold creature Miss Hemlock held. “I thought you were frightened of them?”

“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge, young master Took,” she answered. “I was given a handkerchief this morning by a kind, young lad and the next thing I know there are chilly, dark things squirming inside the folds. Now what would you do?” She paused then continued on. “I grew up with four brothers. Worms were just one method they chose to annoy me with; others were dead spiders or snails.”

“Perhaps we should put our dead spiders back, Pip,” Merry quipped.

“Considering your antics today, Master Meriadoc, you just might graduate from your uncle’s punishment before you come of age.”

Pippin laughed, “He’ll be the oldest student in Middle-earth!” Merry didn’t find mirth in either remark.

Miss Hemlock finished planting her seedlings and then used a damp cloth to wipe her hands. She handed an extra one to the lads.

“What’s this for?” Pippin asked.

“To wipe your hands with!” she laughed, tousling his hair. Pippin was beginning to feel horrible over his actions that morning.

Then she reached into basket and handed each lad a strawberry tart. “We all had a nice little party while you two were in your father’s office receiving discipline. The party was supposed to be in your honor, Master Peregrin--for becoming a recent teen.”

Pippin looked at Merry, his eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry about the worms this morning,” he said. Merry’s apology was just as sincere. Pippin went on, “Merry and I thought for sure you were the same Miss Hemlock who taught our cousins up in the Northfarthing. We heard that she was…” he trailed off lamely.

“Ghastly?” the Tutor laughed. “I believe you are thinking of Miss Hamlet. She is a strict one!” then she smiled. “Apologies accepted.”

An impish grin appeared on Pippin’s face, “I’ll never listen to him again!”

“What do you mean, me?” Merry defended himself.

Miss Hemlock interjected before their repertoire turned into an all-out argument. “Both of you should now understand that you should not to listen to rumors begun by others. Judge another by the same standards you would want to be judged. Then give that person a chance to prove you otherwise.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Pippin spoke up, “Seems our lessons are continuing out here in the garden.”

“Lessons in life never stop, young Peregrin,” she answered. “Now, I wanted to speak to you clever lads about working with young Degger…” They spent rest of the afternoon in pleasant fellowship amid the sunshine in the north garden.

The End