Seedlings

by Beethoven’s 7th

--for Marigolds Challenge #12.  

---dedicated to my daughter “WeeSnapdragon”  If not for her I would not be up at 3a.m. and would perhaps not have thought of this story.  I love you anyway princess!

----big thank yous to Pearl Took for once again doing some perfect editing.

“Ummm… Mr. Frodo. What exactly are you doing?”  asked Sam upon encountering Frodo digging in the garden.

“Why, I’m gardening Sam.  What does it look like I’m doing?”  replied Frodo in a way that made it clear that he thought the answer was most obvious.

“Well, sir, your right of course, it does look to be gardenin’ you’re attemptin’.  But Mr. Frodo sir, there’s no need for you to be doin’ such.  Isn’t that what I’m here for after all?”

Now keep in mind reader.  Samwise was fully aware that the gardens were not his property after all.  But he couldn’t help but feel a bit possessive and a little hurt to find his dear master in such an endeavor.  The soil, which Frodo Baggins was currently mangling, was the same soil, which had been lovingly tended by himself, Samwise Gamgee, and his father, the Gaffer, before him.  In addition, Sam was a very conscientious worker.  An unsure part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this impromptu gardening of his master’s was an indication that Sam’s work was unsatisfactory.  So perhaps you’ll be a bit forgiving of our Sam.  Let’s just look in on them again and see if his worries were for naught.

“Yes Sam, and a fine gardener you are.  The garden on the Hill has long been believed the finest in Hobbiton.  So put those worries I see on your transparent face to rest.” 

“If you don’t mind my askin’ then Mr. Frodo, what, er, type of gardenin’ is it you’re doin’ there?”

This wasn’t actually intentionally rude or judgmental on Sam’s part.  No one watching Frodo’s attempts would have been any wiser as to his eventual goal than Sam was.  Bits of soil were flying through the air during Frodo’s energetic digging.  Looking around Sam could see that Frodo had been at this task for some time now.  Holes of all shapes and sizes were now to be seen throughout the previously orderly garden.  The soil from those holes was tossed with reckless abandon, covering and yes sometimes even flattening nearby plants.  As to the flattened plants, some attempts had been made to correct the damage.  For example, one cluster of bent and broken irises had been lovingly tied together into an upright bunch with one of Frodo’s scarves.  The lovely little viola’s now had little mounds of soil around each plant, covering each plant so that nothing now showed except a flower and perhaps a leaf or two.  Sam was sure that if he were to remove these mounds, he would find the plant as bent and broken as the irises.  He shuddered to think what condition the strawberry bed may be in. 

“Well Sam,” Frodo began conversationally, still digging, “I did a bit of a favour for old MissTulip down the way.  She had received a letter from her daughter.  You remember her daughter, Daisy, don’t you Sam?  She married into the Tooks and moved away a few years ago I believe.  Well, she doesn’ t read or write any more than Miss Tulip, but living not far from the Smials, she has someone there write down her letters for her.  Normally Miss Tulip has her neighbor read the letters to her and draft the response, but her neighbor is out of town taking care of some poorly relative, I can’t remember who, and so wasn’t there to read the latest missive from Daisy.”

Perhaps you’ll think this a long rambling speech for our dear Frodo.  And maybe like Sam you will be wondering what all of this has to do with the holes even still now being dug in the no longer immaculate garden.  Well again, a bit of leeway is needed here, for it was a lovely spring day and many a hobbit was not acting his normal self.  It was one of those spring days when many good meaning folk leave their intended work for some outdoor pursuit.  If one were to venture to each hole and cottage in the shire, one would probably find not many hobbits left indoors at all. 

Gardeners are nothing if not patient.  So when Frodo paused his story to untangle his spade from a bit of roots (and in the process pulling up the plant attached to those roots), Sam waited for the story to continue and held one hand tightly within the other to keep himself from snatching the spade from his dear master’s hands.

Having replaced the young plant to approximately its original spot and packed a bit of soil around it to keep it upright Frodo continued with his digging and his tale. 

“Anyway, I was taking an early morning amble and upon seeing me Miss Tulip called me to her.  The aroma of fresh backed bread coming from her window promised a lovely treat for second breakfast and so I readily agreed to come into her hole a bit.  After a lovely meal of warm bread spread with honey, she asked me to read her daughter’s letter to her.  ‘Ah now Miss Tulip.  You didn’t need to bribe me with this fine bread for such a thing as that.  Tis a simple matter indeed.   I thank you though as it was to be some seedcake leftover from yesterday for me.’  After reading the letter for her I joined her in a stroll around her small garden.  She also showed me her collection of seedlings started weeks ago.  Did you know you could do that Sam?  Start the seeds inside to give them a bit of a head start as it were?”

“Yes sir Mr. Frodo.  That I did.  In fact many of the flowers and plants in your garden are started in just that way.”  Sam replied as patiently as he could.

“Really Sam?  How wonderful!  I had no idea!  Well anyway.  This hole looks about right.  I think I’ll put another over here among the daffodils.”

Sam winced, but as he had not yet heard the full story, and after all, it was Frodo’s garden, he let Frodo continue.

“Where was I Sam?”

“Mrs. Tulips seedlings.”

“Ah yes.  Well, she pointed out each and told me what they were.  ‘These’ she said ‘are my prize snapdragons’.  ‘Snapdragons!’ I said, ‘Oh I do love those!  And do you know,  I don’t think I have any in my garden!’  ‘Well young Mr. Baggins,' she said to me, 'I'll have te remedy that for ye.  Just so long as ye tell any admirers as ye might have where ye got ‘em.  I’m right proud of my snapdragons ye see.’  ‘Indeed I shall Miss Tulip.  In fact, I think I’ll even put a plaque saying as much in my garden for all to see. ‘  Well Sam.  That did cause quite a lovely blush from Old Miss Tulip.  She is such a sweet thing.”

Meanwhile he was continuing with his digging.  Occasionally a bit of chunked off daffodil bulb would go flying with the soil.

“So that you see is that Sam.  She sent me home with a generous tray of these little snapdragon seedlings.  And since it is SUCH a lovely day I thought I would lend you a hand and get started on the planting of them.”

At this point Frodo looked up at Sam.  Such a pleased expression was on his face along with the smears of dirt, Sam’s heart softened.  After all, his master meant well.

“You’re right Mr. Frodo.  She is a nice lady.  And she’s right to be proud of her snapdragons.  The are the loveliest in the shire I reckon.  I’ll have te ask her fer some pointers on how te care for ‘em.  As for plantin’ em.  You’ve gone to such work, but I wonder if this may solve a problem I was havin’”

A frown of concern creased Frodo’s brow.

“What problem could that be Sam?”

“Well Mr. Frodo.  I prepared a new bed last fall te plant some new flowers I had in mind.  but I wasn’t able to get the seeds I wanted.  So I’ve been doin’ a fair bit of thinkin’ on what to put there in their stead.  Perhaps these snapdragons would be just the thing.  And then I could cut you a bit of board and put it on a stake for that plaque you spoke of.  Maybe you could even paint a tulip on so as to show those as can’t read who the flowers were from.”

“Why Sam!  Those are both lovely ideas!  I see now that I should have waited for you before beginning.   But perhaps these holes won’t go to waste?  Maybe you could plant something else in them!  And maybe I could help you still with the new bed?”

Sam didn’t have the heart to tell Frodo the truth about those holes so he simply agreed that yes,  he was sure the holes would come in right handy.  Meanwhile consoling himself with the knowledge that once the garden had filled in, Frodo was unlikely to notice that the holes were not in fact utilized, but simply filled in and the damage done repaired.

And so, the servant became teacher and his master a willing pupil as together they planted the small seedlings.