Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

A wee bit of hobbit fluff! How Pippin found his cat, Lily. Written for the "Wee Hobbits" November Challenge, "Hobbits in Blankets". Pippin is eleven in hobbit years, around 6 1/2 in man years. Takes place after his first adventure with Tulip, the knitted piglet!

“Well, if you really must know, I’ve been exploring all on my own! Since you wouldn’t play with me, and Pearl is busy helping Mum with the bread making, and Da is away in the village and even Vinca doesn’t have the time to tease me today…” Pippin sniffed dramatically. He turned away from the shelf in his bedroom where he displayed all of his stuffed animals.

Tulip watched him disapprovingly from her perch in the most honoured spot of all - the middle. She rested slightly above the other toys on a thick book Nell had given him. “I know what you’re thinking,” he accused the knitted piglet without turning. His back stiff, arms folded in front of him, the little lad pouted impressively. Tulip rolled her embroidered green eyes in mock dismay and clucked at him for being so childish.

“And don’t try scolding me, either. Because I’m not listening.” Pippin stuck his lip out, annoyed with her failure to sympathize with him. Tulip chose this moment to admonish him for being so rude and keeping his back to her, not to mention keeping her high upon a shelf when she should have been tucked inside his shirt, supervising his latest adventure, and keeping him out of mischief.

“I asked if you wanted to go with me! You said you wanted to finish your nap first. I didn’t feel like waiting.” Pippin listened intently for a moment. “Well, how come you had to take a nap in the middle of the day, anyhow?” Tulip haughtily reminded him of how he had dropped her out of his bed during the night and left her on the floor where she lay shivering and awake for the remaining hours.

“Oh. I’m very sorry about that. I already told you I didn’t do it on purpose,” he sighed, turning around at last.

Tulip’s red mouth quirked up in a little grin and her eyes twinkled at him. How she loved her little lad, even when he got too big for his britches sometimes. Pippin raised an eyebrow indignantly. “What do you mean I’m too big for my britches? What’s that supposed to mean?” Tulip chuckled and refused to answer. Pippin frowned. It sounded exactly like something his mother would say.

He stood on tiptoe and scooped her off the shelf. Nuzzling her close to his face he drank in the scent of her pink wool. It smelled just like his mother’s knitting basket and reminded him of the day she’d gifted him with the piglet. Tulip cooed at him and he rubbed her soft body against his cheek appreciatively. “Yes, that is better. I don’t like it when we disagree. Let’s not get upset with each other again today, all right?”

Tulip reminded him that it had been his fault in the first place, not hers. He sighed and rolled his own eyes. He never could get the last word in when it came to his friend. “All right, it was my fault! Are you happy now?” He snorted when she nodded her head with great enthusiasm. “Would you like to come with me?” He smiled when she agreed. “All right, let’s go then. I want to show you something I found!”

Pippin plunked his toy on his shoulder and sauntered off. “Shh,” he warned her as they crept past the kitchen door where his mum and sister still worked diligently on the bread. He paused long enough to sniff the air and pat his tummy. Tulip bobbed her head in agreement. Neither of them thought they could wait much longer to taste it. The aroma had filled the farmhouse, beckoning to them for hours, as the yeast worked hard at raising the bread for baking.

Pippin looked at the neat row of loaves waiting their turn to bake and then eyed the ones that had already come out of the oven. He knew better than to try to sneak in to get one of the hot rolls Pearl was just placing on the rack to cool after brushing them with the freshly churned butter. His mother always discouraged his presence when she was preoccupied with such a large task and a very hot oven. Tulip empathized and reminded him that at least it was something they could look forward to at supper tonight!

The pair darted out of a side door together and headed for the barn. “I have a very big surprise.” Pippin trotted along faster in his excitement. The door had been left ajar and he slipped in through the crack, hurrying towards the back of the barn where bales of hay were piled high. Tulip cocked her pink head in wonder at the soft mewling cries drifting out of the corner. Pippin grinned and knelt in front of one of the bales. He pointed at the blanket that lay balled up in a pile of soft straw behind it. Tulip raised an eyebrow in dismay and demanded to know just what his good blanket was doing out here in the barn? Didn’t he know his mother was going to have something to say about it?

Pippin continued to grin as he raised a corner of the blanket and proudly displayed a brand new litter of kittens curled up inside. Tulip’s knitted heart softened at the sight and her eyes shone. Pippin nodded enthusiastically. “I knew you’d understand!” He reached up and placed her down next to the litter so she could get a better look. “Hullo, Snowflake,” he greeted the mother cat. The name had been a jest, started by Merry when the cat had found her way to the farm recently. She was jet black with only a touch of white specks on her underbelly and a few white spots around her nose. Pippin had taken great delight with Merry’s suggestion and had called her Snowflake, much to his older cousin’s amusement.

He gently patted the mother cat on the head and pointed to the five kittens tucked warmly into the pocket around her belly. “Look Tulip!” She looked where he pointed and was amazed to spy a single pure white kitten with fluffy long hair amongst the nest of dark ones. Pippin giggled at her expression. “That one’s my special kitty! I’m calling her Lily.” Tulip had to agree the name was appropriate. The kitten was as bright as a delicate white lily set against a background of dark garden soil, or in this case, the kitten's litter mates!

Pippin giggled at her comparison. “That’s right. Her fur is the same colour as the flowers Mum grows in her garden.” He stroked her carefully with one finger. “And she feels as soft as she looks,” he declared. He settled down next to the kittens and laid his head on the edge of the blanket, placing Tulip next to his cheek. “I hope Mum doesn’t mind too awfully that I gave my new blanket to Lily,” he confided in a whisper. “Lily Took,” he mumbled sleepily. “The newest member of our family.” Pippin chuckled softly and Tulip joined in.

His eyelids grew heavy as the gently purring cat slowly lulled him to sleep. Tulip settled in for a much needed second nap. Soon, both hobbit lad and knitted piglet snored gently in unison while Snowflake watched them as she nursed her babies. She knew this was a very special pair of friends and the perfect home for her new little family. Tulip stirred and opened one eye to study her young master fondly, then looked up at Snowflake and winked one bright green embroidered eye conspiratorially. Indeed, the perfect home and an exceptional family. Snowflake’s purr grew loud with contentment as she closed her eyes and joined them in peaceful slumber.

“I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea. Do you?” Pippin grimaced when Tulip shook her head vigorously, her brightly embroidered eyes staring out at him accusingly from inside the front of his shirt. Her button nose snout was wrinkled into a pout, and he was certain he could literally see the steam rising from her ears, but Pippin knew she was only trying to hide her fear behind the show.

“Well…” Pippin looked back at the ground doubtfully and hesitated. It certainly looked much further away than it had when he’d last paused to glance down. He felt awful for scaring his little knitted friend so dreadfully. But, if the truth were told, he was shaking almost as much as she was, but on the inside. He had to be strong for his piglet lass and get her down safely. After all, it was his fault they were in this predicament.

“What’s that?” Pippin tilted his head towards her, eyes widening in disbelief. “My fault? You agree? You weren’t supposed to be listening in on my thoughts just then. You know that’s very rude!” Tulip informed him that it was his own fault for thinking so loudly, and he needn’t act so surprised. She was always forthright with her opinion, wasn’t she? Pippin found he had to agree, albeit grudgingly. “Well then, you might at least offer your opinion on how to get back down.”

Tulip said that since he had climbed up the tree in spite of her warnings, and knowing full well he was not allowed to be up here in the first place, it most certainly was up to him to get them down! Pippin rolled his eyes. “I knew you were going to say that,” he complained. His friend simply huffed her disapproval and admonished him to stop rolling his pretty eyes at her, before pulling her head back inside his shirt.

“Hmph,” Pippin sniffed, turning his thoughts back to the fix they were in. “I would have thought you could at least be of some help, not leave it all up to me.” He winced when Tulip scolded him roundly in a muffled voice and would have stamped his foot if he hadn’t been so far off the ground. “I am not being petulant! I don’t even know what that means!” He lifted up the corner of his shirt and peered down at her, making a face. Tulip retaliated by sticking out her tongue and wiggling her ears. Pippin could not help giggling at her antics and Tulip felt her little knitted heart swelling. In spite of his over daring escapades and naughty little pranks, he was a good lad and she knew it. However, it simply wouldn’t do to have him get the notion she approved of any of his foolish risks.

“Yes, yes, I know! You’re right. I should never have climbed this tree.” Pippin reconsidered his words. “I mean, I shouldn’t have climbed so high--” Pippin winced at his friend’s renewed round of scolding. He sighed. “All right, it probably wasn’t one of my better ideas. And yes, I know exactly what my mum would say, you don’t have to tell me.”

Tulip politely reminded him of the reason he had climbed up here in the first place and his face flushed. “I know. It really isn’t respectful to spy on anyone. But I never even got the chance to because Vinca and her friend already went into the barn to pet the kittens, remember?” He listened intently to her tell him that wasn’t the point, wondering if there was ever going to be a way to win an argument with her? If there was, he hadn’t discovered it yet. No, there wasn’t going to be a way, she informed him with a poke from her soft knitted hoof for good measure, just to get his attention. Because she was right!

“There you go again, listening in on what I’m thinking. Honestly Tulip, you really should have better manners!” Pippin shook his head. “You really aren’t setting a very good example for me, you know, lass.” He sniggered slyly. There, he thought. I’ll turn her devices against her.

“Oof! What’d you do that for? That’s the second time you’ve kicked me!” Pippin listened to Tulip’s ranting as more reprimand fell on his ears. He sighed. “I’m very sorry. All right? Is that better?” He reached inside his shirt and patted her head. Tulip looked at him skeptically. “Of course I meant it,” Pippin cried. “Please forgive my rude behavior. I mean that sincerely.” Tulip grumbled a bit then graciously forgave him his errant ways.

“Now, shall we try again to find a way down from here?” The piglet nodded rapidly. “Yes, I know you don’t like heights, lass. What? Well, just because you don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t.” He patiently listened to all her reasons against climbing trees as he reached for a nearby branch and swung carefully down to the one below it. Tulip squealed in fright and dug her heels into his stomach. “OW! Be careful, will ya? I’m not going to let you fall!”

Tulip scrambled up to his neck and entwined herself in his thick hair for better balance. She latched on to one of his ears for good measure, and then poked her head out in order to oversee their descent. The piglet jumped in surprise as a grey squirrel sprinted up the tree in front of them and she dove back into the safety of Pippin’s curls. “Eep! Watch out scaring me like that or we’re both going to fall!”

Tulip chattered back at the indignant squirrel and Pippin laughed at the look on the animal’s face as it eyed them both. He peeked down at her. “No one is safe from your dressing-down, is he?” That’s right, she told him with a firm nod. And just you remember that, my lad.

“Whew,” he breathed when at last they reached the lowest branch. Pippin wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve then took a half-squashed biscuit out of his pocket. He started to nibble on it and stopped. Sighing, he held the food up to Tulip’s snout and let her take a bite. He held it up in front of his eyes and then slanted a glance at her. “That was an awfully big bite.”

His knitted friend paid him no mind and chewed happily while sitting primly on his shoulder. Pippin was reminded of the grey squirrel. Tulip stopped chewing long enough to inform him indignantly that she was most certainly not anything like that presumptuous little squirrel! Pippin simply shrugged and went back to munching on what was left of his biscuit. “Next time I’m going to pinch more than one, seeing as you’ve acquired such a big appetite,” he told her. Tulip chuckled and asked why he hadn’t done that before? After all, he knew his mother would consider him bad mannered if he didn’t share his food with her.

“Tulip, you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” Pippin scolded. Tulip retorted that her mouth was no longer full and he should give her another bite. Wordlessly, he held up the biscuit. No, he thought. There simply wasn’t any way he was going to have the last word when Tulip was around. Brushing the crumbs onto the legs of his britches, he nimbly leaped the remaining short distance to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. Tulip whispered something in his ear.

“What? You want me to promise not to climb up that tree again?” Pippin got to his feet and twisted around to gaze up into the canopy so far above them. “Well…I can’t promise you that, lass. As a matter of fact, I’m certain that if we tried again tomorrow I’d be able to climb even higher now that I’ve had a wee bit of practice, don’t you know, and--” He stopped and his eyes widened in disbelief. “Huh? You mean you’d actually tell on me? That’s not fair! I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” This time he did stamp his foot.

Tulip clucked at his actions and reassured him that she most certainly was on his side, and intended to keep him from harm’s way, even when it so often put her in danger along with him. After all, she had promised his mother she’d always keep an eye on him.

That’s right; Tulip nodded her pink head firmly. She was up to showing you how much she loves you, lad. Don't you know you could have been killed if you'd fallen out of that great tree? Now, march! Tulip squeezed the tip of his pointed ear with her little cloven hoof and pointed him towards the farmhouse’s kitchen door with a deliberate push.

”WHAT? You actually think I’m going to tell on myself? Are you daft, Tulip?” Pippin found himself hurrying along in spite of his best efforts to dig his heels in. “NO! OWW! Let go my blessed ear, will ya? I’m not doing it, I said! Do you want me to have to spend the rest of the day in my room? If I do, then so will you! WHAT? It will not be worth it, take my word for it! It’ll be boring! Tuuullliiiippp!”

Pippin’s protesting wails faded into the distance. The grey squirrel watched them curiously from a perch near her nest on the highest limb of the ancient oak. She shook her head, knowing that whatever happened to the hobbit lad he’d be back again to climb her tree another day.

“Oh mercy! That is just so adorable, Pearl!” Eglantine reached for the tiny bit of wool, a smile lighting up her face.

Eglantine held the miniature scarf up to examine it more closely. It was fashioned to look just like Pippin’s own, favourite one. “You certainly have done an excellent job, my dear. My, but this tiny stitching is flawless.”

“Thank you, Mum. I just wanted to make something special for what seems to have become his most treasured possession. Now that cold weather is here, and seeing how Tulip seems to accompany him everywhere he goes. We wouldn’t want her to get cold.”

Pearl laughed. “Why that’s sounds like a splendid idea! Perhaps I’ll even knit her a set of mittens too.” That notion set both of them to giggling. Pimpernel joined them just then wanting to know what all the merriment was about. Eglantine held out the little scarf for her daughter’s inspection. Pimpernel lifted one eyebrow and then joined them in peals of laughter.

“Of course.” Pearl took the scarf from her mother and showed it to her sister.

Pimpernel turned it over in her hands, lovingly stroking the soft wool, the familiar pattern bringing a smile to her face. “This is precious. However did you think of it?”

Pearl’s eyes twinkled. “You know the way Pippin is always going about talking to his stuffed piglet. Well, I shamelessly listened in the other day and ‘twas all I could do to keep from laughing aloud at the lively exchange they were having. Pippin was fussing over Tulip after they had come in from playing and promised her he would see to it that she got her very own set of woolens before any snow fell.”

Pimpernel laughed. “Yes, I’ve heard him hold any number of interesting conversations with his little friend. I adore the way he’ll hold her up to his ear and pretend she’s talking to him.”

“I remember when I made the mistake of calling his toy a ‘he’ and he swiftly corrected me – ‘Tulip is a lass piglet’, he said, and rolled his eyes as if I were the most daft person he had ever spoken to!” Pearl chuckled helplessly at the memory. “And then he turned and stalked away with Tulip perched on his shoulder while he whispered in her ear, and made like she was listening to everything he told her.”

“He’s been doing that ever since the first day I gave her to him.” Eglantine shook her head in fond memory. “I never dreamed he would become so attached to his knitted friend. I was only trying to keep him quiet whilst he was ill the last time, so I set him to working on knitting a little blanket for Vinca’s doll.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. Aunt Esmie taught him how to knit the last time he visited Brandy Hall. That’s when we were all down sick with the fever,” Nell said. “Poor Mum, trying to tend to three of us at once.”

“Aye, and I didn’t need another sick child. So your da took him to stay at the Hall until you all recovered. I was certainly amazed that Esmie had been able to get him to sit still long enough to pick up the basics of knitting.” She winked at her daughters. “Not to mention thrilled that he had found a new, quiet pastime, that he very much enjoyed.”

She touched the scarf thoughtfully before Pimpernel passed it back to her sister. “I seemed to fashion that piglet without even thinking about what I was doing. It really was odd, now that I think about it.” She shrugged. “Well now, my lass. When are you going to give it to him?”

Pearl wrinkled her brow as she tilted her head in thought. “I think,” she replied slowly, “after I make the matching hat and mittens.” They shared their laughter once more.

Pippin lurked in the barn secretly, peeking carefully through the slats in the stall where one of the cows stood placidly, allowing Tomias to milk her. He giggled into his mitten before shaking his head at Tulip to keep her quiet. “Shhh,” he admonished. “Or he’ll hear us.” Mischievous green eyes twinkled at the thought of playing a little prank on Tom. That was, as soon as he thought up a suitable one. Pippin backed away stealthily, and then glanced around the barn, deep in deliberation. Tulip reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to play in the big barn when no one was around to keep an eye on him. She wanted to go inside now, anyway. After all, they’d been out for well over an hour. Wasn’t it time to think about something hot to drink, and perhaps a nap? Pippin rolled his eyes and chose to ignore her advice.

Tulip drew back underneath his scarf with a shiver and snuggled into the wool. Pippin patted her absent-mindedly, still deep in his plans for Tomias. His breath was visible in the chill air and a cool breeze blew through the barn as someone opened the big door up front. Pippin crept forward and looked around, then pulled back into hiding quickly when he heard voices. They faded away as the farmhands walked in the opposite direction. Young Tom rose and picked up the pail of milk, heading out of the barn. “Oh well.” Pippin shrugged and looked about for a new scheme.

“Hmm.” He peered up into the rafters far above his head, “perhaps we should climb up into the loft and--” Pippin was startled by the soft kick Tulip landed on his ear. “Ow! What did you do that for?” He rubbed his ear indignantly, frowning at his friend. The knitted piglet sighed and shook her head in consternation, then whispered in her lad’s ear. Pippin’s eyes widened. “What? I thought you liked the loft?”

Pippin listened while Tulip presented her argument. “Well…I suppose you’re right. It will be even colder up there. And, as much as I hate to admit it, hot tea and biscuits do sound wonderful.” Pippin lifted her from his shoulder and looked her in the eye. “But you have to promise that we’ll do it next time. All right?” Tulip nodded eagerly. After all, she enjoyed playing most of his games, as long as they didn’t bring him to any harm. And all the better she accompany him to keep an eye on him and his mischief!

Appeased by her answer he placed his friend inside his jacket and headed for the farmhouse at a trot, stopping once to eye the gray sky. “Tulip, it looks like it might actually snow soon!” Pippin was very excited by the notion of having snow to play in. While it didn’t come often, it happened upon them every now and then, and many a hobbit lad and lass donned their mittens and hats to hurry out and enjoy playing in it! Tulip chuckled at his enthusiasm and agreed readily that it would be something to see. Pippin giggled. He was in on her secret. He knew she was as eager as he was to play in the snow.

“I’ll have to see to it that you get some mittens and a scarf, my lass,” he promised, reaching into his jacket to pat her head. Tulip grunted happily at the attention and agreed with him wholeheartedly. It wasn’t easy being a knitted piglet going out to play in the cold without all the necessities, after all. How could he treat her like that? Pippin frowned. “I don’t know how to knit those kinds of things yet. Don’t worry, though. I’m certain Mum will do it if I ask her.” Tulip reminded him that it was going to be many months before it was warm again, so she’d very much appreciate his prompt attention to the matter!

“Of course I will. I just said I would, didn’t I?” He patted her again. “I don’t want you to be cold!” Tulip settled into her spot with complete confidence in her lad’s word, and she was still chattering away as Pippin entered the big, warm kitchen. His cheeks were rosy from the cold and his mother came bustling over to help him as he shed his coat. He carefully placed the piglet on the table and laughed when she shook herself all over and stretched out leisurely, expressing her delight with the cozy fire in the stove.

“And what are you laughing about, young sir?” Eglantine teased as she hung his jacket on a peg beside the door.

“Tulip is happy to be back inside where it’s warm,” he chortled, pointing at the pink piglet. “She’s making herself all comfortable by the fire – see Mum?”

Eglantine smiled and patted his curls. “Yes, I see. So, you and Tulip had a grand time playing outside then, I take it? But are all chilled and ready for something warm to drink now.”

Pippin nodded enthusiastically, then scooped the toy up and held her against his cheek. He grinned up at his mother. “Tulip told me it was time to come in, even though I didn’t really want to.”

“Well,” Eglantine smiled and patted the piglet’s head, “there’s a good wee piglet then, isn’t she now? Keeping an eye on our lad just as she’s supposed to!” Eglantine tilted her head towards Tulip, listening closely. “What’s that you say, my bonnie piggy?” She laughed heartily, “Ah yes, we know indeed!”

Pippin looked from his mother to Tulip and back, his brow furrowed. “What did Tulip tell you?”

His mother winked at him and whispered, “Why, she just wanted to reassure me that she knew it ‘twas a full time task looking after you, and that she is quite up to the job!”

Pippin stared incredulously at his piglet friend. “You told Mum that?” He giggled when Tulip nodded, her eyes sparkling at him teasingly. Pippin tugged on his mother’s apron.

Eglantine knelt next to him. “Yes, my little love? What is it?” Pippin gestured for her to lean down and he whispered in her ear.

“Confidentially, Mum, it’s Tulip that needs looking after, not me,” he asserted firmly.

“Oh, is it now?” She shook her head as she rose. “Well, I’ll be certain not to let the cat out ‘o the bag then. All right?”

Pippin nodded vigorously and ignored the pointed frown from his knitted friend. He held her up to his ear. “What? Oh, ‘twas nothing.” Tulip hurried to disagree with him, but Pippin merely grinned.

“Why don’t the two of you go wash up for tea? It will be ready very soon.” She patted her son’s head fondly, and then made a shooing motion with her apron.

Pippin skipped happily out of the kitchen while Tulip perched on his shoulder admonishing him to slow down before she tumbled headlong onto the floor.

Pearl gave him a smile as he skipped and skidded towards the bathroom with Tulip in tow. “Where are you going, Pip?”

He turned and walked backwards, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Tulip and I are washing up before tea.”

“Ah, then I’ll see you at the table.” Pearl joined her mother, continuing to chuckle at her little brother’s antics. “I could hear him talking to his piglet all the way from my room,” she laughed. “Mum, when will be leaving for Brandy Hall? Do you know yet?”

“Most likely it will be early tomorrow.” Eglantine glanced out the window before turning back to the table. “I do hope the weather holds until then, but that sky does bode a snowfall before long, I do believe.”

“Ah well.” Eglantine set about bustling around the kitchen again. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time we’ve travelled to Brandy Hall in foul weather. Have you finished the little surprise for Pippin?”

“I’ve just completed the hat.” She pulled the item from her pocket. “I even stitched a tiny pink Tulip on the front of it!”

“What? Oh, Pearl!” Eglantine took it and turned it over in her hand, examining the detailed work. “Oh my, it’s lovely! You do such fine work with the delicate stitches. Well, I can say that I know Tulip will love it as much as Pippin!”

Pearl reached back into her apron pocket and took out a pair of tiny knitted boots and a set of mittens that matched the hat. Eglantine cried out her delight. “Oh, mercy! How utterly adorable!”

They shared a peal of laughter. “Tulip can model it for us before we leave,” Pearl said, her eyes sparkling.

“I think his piggy is going to have as grand a Yuletide as the rest of the family, wouldn’t you agree, Pearl?”

Tulip was resplendent in her stylish Yule attire; she waited impatiently on the bed for her young master to finish dressing so they could be off. Tulip tapped her hoof and inquired again if he wouldn’t kindly speed things up before they were left behind? “That’s the third time you’ve asked me if I’m ready! Give me a moment longer, will you?” Pippin dragged a brush through his unruly curls, trying his best to be quick about it. He was excited about the trip too, but he knew Tulip was hurrying him simply because she couldn’t wait to show off her new garments. He hoped it wouldn’t go to her head.

His sister had done a fine job in knitting Tulip a set of woolens, and he hadn’t even needed to ask! The wee scarf, identical to his in pattern, was coiled smartly about her neck, while the soft, pink and white boots and mittens adorned her cloven hooves. The bonnet, sporting the colourful tulip on its brim, perched on the piglet’s head, making her appear prim, yet pert. A lovely cloak of the softest crimson wool topped off her fashionable ensemble.

Pippin turned and smiled broadly at her before swooping his friend up onto his shoulder. “Tulip, my lass, you’re going to be the belle of the Yule celebration!” He laughed in delight when Tulip said she already knew that, and could they please get moving before his parents left without them? Pippin nodded and hurried out of his room with his rucksack slung over his opposite shoulder.

“It’s snowing! I knew it would, look Tulip!” Pippin pointed excitedly out the front window, and bounced up and down on his toes.

Pervinca looked at her brother’s toy, decked out in its finery, and rolled her eyes at Pimpernel. “Didn’t Pearl remember to make her a handbag?”

“Hush, Vinca. Pearl’s gift made Pip very happy, don’t you dare go to teasing him about it.” Pervinca settled for a sharp snicker as the family piled into the carriage and headed off.

Pippin was looking forward to seeing Merry as much as he was eager to show off Tulip and introduce her to Brandy Hall. Snow, Yuletide, the promise of a family gathering and good food…and a contented Tulip snoozing on his shoulder. What more could a lad hope for? Pippin was certain they would find a grand adventure once they arrived. Tulip grinned out from beneath his jacket collar. She was certain too!

“Shhhhh! He’s asleep, finally. Don’t you dare wake him up,” Merry warned as he plopped down onto the couch with a sigh of relief.

Frodo joined him. “And do you honestly think I would do such a thing after the day we’ve had? Coming up with ways to entertain him and keep him out of mischief has taken all of my energy.” Frodo drew his legs up and tucked them underneath him.

“I suppose not,” Merry admitted grumpily, reaching for his book. “But the door to his room creaks. You know it doesn’t take much to wake him.”

“I was very quiet. I peeked in to make certain he was still in bed. He had his little piglet scrunched up against his ear. Perhaps she sang him to sleep,” he chuckled.

Frodo shrugged. “Soon, I think. Perhaps he and Paladin stopped off for a pint on their way back. I’m glad that Pad brought Pippin with him on his trip to Hobbiton. He may be a handful, but you must admit, he’s a very charming one.”

Merry snorted knowingly. “I’ll bet Aunt Eglantine is happy Uncle Pad brought Pip along, too.” Frodo eyed him reproachfully. “You know I’m only jesting. There’s never a dull moment when he’s around. Besides, I’ve missed his friend too.”

“I remember the day Mum taught him how to knit. He was staying at the Hall while all his sisters were ill with a fever. Mum had tried all day to keep him under her watchful eye, but Pip got away from her and she caught him trying to sneak away into the mathom room.”

Merry nodded. “She was at her wits end. That’s when she decided he was either going to sit with her and knit or be put to bed for a nap.”

“Actually, he had more fun at it than anyone thought he would.” Merry snickered, “And I recall Aunt Tina saying how happy she was that Mum had taught him a quiet activity.”

“And the next time I visited the farm he had his knitted friend and it seems she’s not been far from him since.”

“Yes, he does take her everywhere,” Frodo mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “and insists that she talks to him, and looks out for him. He said that his mother knows it’s true because she knitted Tulip especially for him.”

“Well…there was that odd little adventure he had last summer. Remember when he got himself lost in the woods and it took us days to find him?”

“How could I ever forget? Poor Pad and Eglantine were frantic with worry during the search. We all were. And of course, we could do nothing but keep looking while imagining the worst had happened, although nobody talked about it. I hate to recall the kinds of thoughts that were going through all of our minds.” Frodo frowned at the memory.

“Uh huh, and then here comes Pippin at last, and telling all kinds of stories about faeries, and saying that Tulip looked after him the entire time. And just as happy as you please, as if nothing had happened and he hadn’t worried us all half to death! Perhaps we should enlist his piglet’s help next time we have to watch him for a whole day?”

Frodo laughed at Merry’s suggestion. “A knitted piglet as a nursemaid, hmmm. Well, obviously something looked out for him. Or someone. Just think of a lad his age lost in the woods alone for days. He looked remarkably well for his experience.”

A slight creak caught their attention at the same moment and they turned as one. A giggle drifted from behind the couch. Merry got up on his knees and looked over the back. “Pippin!” Green eyes and an impish grin met his, and Merry couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

Pippin scrambled from his hiding place and climbed in between his cousins. Tulip was nestled inside of his nightshirt collar. “You were talking about us,” he crowed, bouncing up and down until Frodo reached over and plunked him down on his bottom.

“Yes, and just what are you doing out of bed?” Frodo favored him with a mock frown and Pippin giggled again, throwing a hand over his mouth.

“I’m not sleepy anymore.” He pulled Tulip from underneath his thick hair and placed her on his lap. “We want to hear a story,” he declared firmly.

“Pippin, if your father and Bilbo return and find you still up we’re going to get into trouble. Do you want that to happen?” Merry admonished him.

Pippin stuck his tongue out at him. “We want to hear a story before bed. You promised us earlier but you didn’t tell one.”

“That’s because you fell asleep, you rascal,” Frodo placed an arm around his little cousin’s shoulders.

“Well, Tulip woke me up and reminded me that we didn’t get our story.” Pippin looked up at Frodo with pleading eyes and snuggled in closer.

“See? He’s charmed you to get his way again. The little scamp always gets his way,” Merry grinned as he said it.

Pippin stuck his tongue out again and then waggled the piglet in Merry’s face. “Tulip says you’re being very unreasonable and that you should always listen to Frodo.”

“Oh, she does, does she?” Merry took Tulip from him and placed her at his ear. “What’s that you say, Tulip? Oh, really? I’m not surprised. Not at all.”

“She said,” Merry plunked the toy down onto Pippin’s head, “that she told you that you were not supposed to get up, because she knows your elder cousins have had a very trying day.”

Pippin snatched Tulip off his head and looked at her. “She did not. Did you Tulip?” Embroidered green eyes and a pink button nose regarded him innocently. He frowned. “Did you?” Pippin placed Tulip on his shoulder with her snout up to his ear. His eyes widened. “But, I thought you were on my side! You were the one who reminded me of Frodo’s promise and it was you who woke me up to tell me!” Pippin narrowed his eyes and looked from Merry to Frodo. “Honest, she did! I’d still be sleeping if she hadn’t.” He looked back at Tulip and continued chattering away at the knitted piggy.

Frodo and Merry exchanged knowing looks of amusement across the top of his curly head. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough for me to tease him about this. Oh, I can think of the perfect time to bring up the knitted piggy story - in front of the first lass he courts,” Merry chortled. Frodo smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

“You won’t do that, Merry, cause I’m never going to court lasses, ewww!”

Pippin rolled his eyes at Merry as if his cousin had just made the most ridiculous statement ever. He shook his head firmly. “No, I’m just going to have friends like my dog and kitty, Dizzy and Lily. And I’ll have a pony named Stars, and Pansy the goose, oh and Orangeblossom – she’s my favourite cow, you know,” he confided, before continuing his chatter without taking a breath, “And then there’s Cheeter, the red squirrel who lives in the great oak tree out back of our barn, and talks to me whenever I climb his tree--”

Pippin nodded and started ticking off his animal friends one by one on his fingers, “Of course, I’ll still have Tulip, and maybe a big raven like Great Auntie Pringle’s, and a little calf, because Orangeblossom started to freshen just a few days ago, so it won’t be long now until she has her baby, and…”

Frodo stifled a laugh and waited for his little cousin to wind down. He winked at Merry. “But,” Frodo said, when Pippin finally paused to take a breath, “what about Sam’s little sister, Marigold? I thought you liked her, and very much! Why, I even overheard you telling Bilbo you were going to marry her some day.”

“Oh, that was last year, when I was only nine. I’ve grown up a great deal since then, Frodo,” Pippin informed him without missing a beat.

Frodo was certain for a moment even Tulip raised her brow at that. “Ah. I see. So, now that you’re a very grown up lad of ten, you have other ideas? You’re not going to get married, you’re simply going to live on the farm forever and play with the animals.”

Pippin frowned at Merry’s derisive snort. “That’s right. Of course, I’ll have lots of folks come to visit me, and Mum and Da will always be there, and maybe Pimpernel and Vinca. Pearl will probably get married though, she’s already being courted, you know,” his voice dropped to a loud whisper as he shared that bit of information with them, “But I’ve heard Da say that he won’t part with all his lasses, so some of them better be planning on staying home forever--” Pippin stopped abruptly and tilted his head in thought. “Probably Vinca will, because she’s too bad-tempered for any lad to want to court her anyway…”

Merry stuffed a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing and Frodo wiped at his eyes, suppressing his amusement as much as he could so as not to offend his young cousin while Pippin chattered on, happily unaware of the exchange.

“Oh! And there’s the wee owl that came to live in the barn last week, only Da hasn't noticed him yet.” He lowered his voice again and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Da doesn’t like owls, you know. Ever since what happened last summer.”

“Well, after I got back from being lost in the woods that time Da has been very, umm…” Pippin wrinkled his own brow trying to think of the appropriate word. “He’s, umm…over…over, ah…what did Mum call it again, Merry?”

“How should I know, Pip? I don’t know what you’re even talking about right now! I lost track of the conversation some time ago.”

“I believe the word you’re searching for is likely ‘overprotective’,” Frodo said mildly. “And I don’t blame him after what happened.”

Pippin scratched his head. “Yes, that sounds right. But, Da said he’s had very bad dreams about owls since then, so that’s why I think he doesn’t like them.” Pippin thought hard for another moment. “That’s odd, though. I don’t remember him ever being afraid of them before.”

Frodo knew that Paladin’s bad dreams were more likely caused by a fear that Pippin might have been scooped up by a large owl while he was missing in the forest. He shivered as he recalled his older cousin talking about the incident afterwards. His arm tightened around Pippin at the horrifying thought.

Frodo smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing, my dearest. Nothing at all for you to worry about.” He smoothed the unruly hair back from Pippin’s forehead.

“So, I won’t tell him about the owl and maybe he just won’t notice, what do you think, Frodo?”

“I’ll tell you what I think, Pip.” Pippin swung around to look at Merry. “I think that if Uncle Pad finds out there’s an owl roosting in the barn that owl probably won’t be around for long.”

“Merrryyy! I like the wee owl! Please don’t tell Da he’s there,” Pippin wailed.

Frodo promptly smacked the back of Merry’s head again, only a little harder this time.

“Oww! Frodo, will you please stop doing that?” Merry scowled as he rubbed his head.

Merry rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t tell Uncle Pad there’s an owl in his barn! All right?” Merry muttered under his breath about the unlikelihood of the owl going unnoticed in the first place.

Pippin sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his nightshirt. He turned his head and listened, then scooped Tulip up and held her close. “It’s all right, Tulip. I won’t let anything hurt you. She’s frightened of the owl too,” he explained.

“Then maybe you should tell Uncle Pad--” Merry laughed and ducked before Frodo could pop him on the head once more.

Pippin spared a moment to frown at Merry before returning to his chattering. Tulip watched them peacefully and Frodo couldn’t resist giving her a pat on the head. Frodo’s eyes grew heavier while he listened. After a time, he noticed that Merry’s head tipped towards Pippin’s, and the younger lad now rested his head on Merry’s shoulder. Tulip was snuggled in between them. Frodo smiled and he, too, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep to the tune of gentle snores.

A short time later, Bilbo opened the door to Bag End and noted three slumbering lads and one knitted piglet tangled together on the couch. He turned to Paladin and grinned. “Now, is that not a sight for sore eyes?”

Paladin’s expression was gentle. “It is indeed.” He bent and scooped his son into his arms, then planted a light kiss on top of his head. Pippin stirred just a little. He still clutched Tulip in one hand. Paladin turned towards the bedrooms. “I’m going to put him to bed.”

As Paladin closed the door very softly Pippin opened one eye and met Tulip’s. He listened, and then nodded his agreement. “You’re right. We never did get our story!”

“What? What do you mean, ‘not one more step’? Whatever are you talking about?” Pippin gave Tulip his very best innocent look, but he saw immediately that she wasn’t fooled. He sighed, remembering that he’d very nearly fallen out of the tree yesterday when the red squirrel that nested there chattered at them in an exceptionally loud voice, startling him. Tulip reminded him that if he fell, she did too. And if he went and got himself hurt, she would also suffer for his folly because she’d be stuck in bed with him!

Pippin rolled his eyes at her bossy tone, but reconsidered his plan. He had been warned to stay out of the tree, or else. He paused for a moment to puzzle over his mother’s warning. He was never certain just what she meant whenever she told him that, but thought he was probably better off not finding out!

“All right, I won’t climb the oak today, will that make you happy?” The youngster waggled the knitted piglet’s head up and down, and then grinned. “Well,” he frowned in thought. “I can’t say how I’ll feel about it tomorrow, though. So I won’t make any promises.” Tulip snorted and bided her time, rather than scold him. She frequently managed to get her own way, so she decided to leave that discussion for later.

Pippin wrinkled his brow and looked around the farmyard. “What would you like to do then?” He plunked down on the swing that his father had made for him. Wrapping his arms around either side of the rope that supported the wooden seat, Pippin started it moving. He scuffed his feet across the bare spot on the ground underneath the swing while he listened to Tulip list her suggestions. His face brightened. “Yes, I like the idea of a picnic!”

He laughed at Tulip’s pleased expression and leaped off the swing. Both of them enjoyed anything that included food, after all. Pippin was already trotting towards the farmhouse while Tulip held fast to her favourite perch, his shoulder. His smile got bigger as she whispered in his ear; he giggled in delight. “Aye, that sounds splendid too! Tulip, how ever do you manage to come up with the best of plans?” Pippin marveled at her inventiveness and hurried faster.

“Mum!” The door slammed behind him as a gust of wind blew through the kitchen. Pippin tore through the house looking for his mother. “Mum? Where are you?” Tulip chattered away from her vantage point, suggesting he try the parlour. She knew Eglantine was usually mending or knitting this time of day. Rounding the corner in a skid, Pippin found that she was correct.

Eglantine looked up from her sewing in surprise as her son burst into the room like a small stormcloud in the process of creating a lightning strike. “Why, I thought you were playing with Vinca?” She smiled fondly as Pippin shook his head and told her about their plans in one breathless sentence.

“So we want to pack some biscuits and jam and apples and milk and perhaps a sweet or two for afters and take a blanket to sit on and go out to the meadow for a picnic and pleassssseeee say it’s alright, Mum! Please?” Pippin finally stopped to take a breath, hopping from one foot to the other in his enthusiasm and imploring his mother with wide eyes that fairly sparkled. He took another deep breath and opened his mouth.

Before he could get started again Eglantine placed a finger across his lips. “Shhh now, my little love. Do come up for air, for just a moment at least!” Pippin obeyed, but couldn’t keep from bouncing up and down impatiently while he waited for her answer. Eglantine’s mouth quirked up in a little smile. “And now, may I ask whose idea this was?” She already knew what her son’s answer would be and her smile grew at the expected answer.

“Tulip thought of it first, but I knew it was a wonderful idea the moment she said it. Isn’t it, Mum?”

Eglantine wanted to laugh aloud at Pippin’s earnest expression. Instead, she turned to Tulip with a mock frown. “Hmm, and now my wee lass piglet, per’aps you can tell me if our lad has kept himself from mischief while you’ve been outside playing for so long? Has he earned himself a picnic, what do you think?” Eglantine listened closely for Tulip’s response, and decided to tease her son, just a little. “Hmm…well now, Tulip, since you’ve told me that, I don’t know if I should say yes, then.”

Pippin’s eyes widened even more. “What? What did she tell you Mum?” he pleaded in a rather loud whisper.

Eglantine sat back in her chair and regarded him in the no nonsense way a mother has when she’s quite certain her child has been tempted to do something he knows he shouldn’t. “Tulip tells me you were thinking about climbing the oak tree out back of the barn again. And after I reminded you this morning that you hadn’t better. You do remember what I said? And what you promised?”

If Eglantine thought it was impossible for Pippin’s eyes to get any wider, she was mistaken. She almost felt bad about her little jest as he stammered out his answer.

“But…but…I…” Pippin glanced up at the piglet sitting on his shoulder, then back at his mother. “But I didn’t do it Mum! Doesn’t that count for something?”

His mother chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Ah, but you did think about it, aye?”

Pippin frowned at his feet and nodded, mumbling his answer reluctantly. Head still bowed, he asked, “Does that mean we don’t get to have our picnic?”

Eglantine pulled him into her arms for a hug. He hugged her back. “Yes, you and Tulip may have your picnic since you had the good sense to resist the temptation, m’lad.”

Pippin started bouncing again. “Thanks Mum! Come on!” He pulled on his mother’s arm, trying to get her up to follow him. The piglet took a swan dive with an ear splitting squeal during his antics, and Pippin quickly bent to retrieve her. “Oops, I’m sorry Tulip!” He dusted her off and replaced her on his shoulder, taking care to tuck her hoof under one of his braces this time. Tulip took a deep breath and then muttered her indignation, loud and long, into his right ear. Pippin winced. “I said I was sorry!” He knew he’d have to endure her annoyance until she forgave him. Tulip in a huff was not a pleasing sight. Pippin knew he’d better offer her some extra treats to speed up the piglet’s pardon.

Eglantine enjoyed observing her little one’s antics. What an imagination Pippin possessed. She started humming a tune while she helped him prepare a luncheon to take on his adventure. Pippin joined her in the song and she listened to the sweet, clear notes with pride. Of all her children, he had the best voice. She paused in her task when Pippin suddenly stopped singing and started giggling. Pippin laughed harder at her questioning look.

He pointed to his shoulder and whispered, “Tulip was a wee bit off key!” Tulip begged his pardon, but she was not off key, ‘twas Pippin. “No I wasn’t,” he protested, still giggling. Tulip sniffed her annoyance and insisted once more that her singing voice was in perfect harmony with that of his mother, however he needed some practice. “Well, I disagree with you,” Pippin said. Fine, she told him. A moment later she stamped her little hoof down on his shoulder to better express her dismay. Pippin laughed. “Tulip, that tickles!”

Eglantine shook her head as she finished preparing the basket of food and covered it with a tea towel. She wondered for what must be the thousandth time, just which side of the family Pippin got his intense imagination from? Planting a kiss on the top of his head she handed him the basket and a small blanket, along with a gentle reminder not to go farther than he was allowed.

He chuckled when Tulip huffed that she still hadn’t forgiven him for his remark about her singing, and crawled under his collar to enjoy the ride. The youngster ambled across the meadow enjoying the warm sunshine and the birdsong. The picnic basket dangled from his hand and Tulip suggested he allow her to ride on top of it just for the change in scenery. They were in no hurry. It was a lovely day for a stroll, the kind that inspired a lad to think long thoughts about magical possibilities, and indulge his curiosity at every step.

The folly of wasting time having a lazy nap under a sky filled with slowly moving, sleepy clouds, appealed to both of them. “After we eat,” Pippin promised. Spying the apple tree that marked the bottom of the great meadow, and the boundary beyond which he could travel no further, Pippin hurried towards it and plopped down underneath its flowering branches. He sighed happily and opened the basket, laying out the tea towel to place the food on. Tulip sat on a corner of their blanket and supervised the meal.

Afterwards, Pippin leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. He placed Tulip against his cheek and promptly fell asleep. Before long, a tiny butterfly joined the pair and lighted on the picnic basket. It was extremely colourful, and very different from the butterflies usually found in the meadow. A delicate face and melting eyes of gold watched the sleeping boy with great interest. Soon, other peculiar creatures joined the butterfly in her close watch. Some came on feet that barely touched the ground while others were virtually invisible. Two more hovered in the air above him, gently flapping gossamer wings of lace. A soft buzzing wandered across the meadow, as if the unusual company were busily conversing in a foreign tongue.

Pippin twitched in his sleep and brushed at the air with one hand as something touched him. One of his extraordinary visitors placed a gift in his waving hand. A gentle, mischievous giggle drifted across the meadow and into Pippin’s ears. He stirred. The giggle faded and became a voice that called his name. The hobbit lad opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing at them sleepily. He drew back his right hand and stared at it. He grasped a delicate yellow and white primrose. His eyes widened and he turned his gaze to Tulip. The piglet was as stunned as he.

Clambering to his feet Pippin whirled in a circle, scanning the landscape. Towards the edge of the woodland that bordered the farm he thought he saw a little lass in a pale white frock. He blinked and she was gone. Excited beyond belief Pippin started for the woods. He felt an immediate pinch on the tip of his ear. “Tulip! No, we have to go see--” He frowned at her stern look and the firm shake of her head. He tried again, “But I saw,” his protests faded when Tulip reminded him of his promise. How he longed to take that next step across the boundary and on to a new adventure!

Pippin wavered for a long moment, one foot half raised in preparation to take a step. He looked into Tulip’s earnest little embroidered eyes and heard his mother’s voice eliciting a promise from him. He had given his word. For now at least, he couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to break it. He took one more look across the meadow and sighed in defeat. “All right,” he said as he picked up the basket, “we’ll go the other way…today.”

Tulip wasn’t certain she was entirely happy with his answer, but it would do…for today.

This ficlet is dedicated to Pearl Took, with many thanks for her wonderful suggestions, and for Tulip's wee "Nose-Job"!!

“Well,” Eglantine shook her head as she bustled about to the other side of the bed and wrestled another fluffy pillow into its clean linen slip. “I don’t think you’ll be doing it again, aye?”

“No, Mum.” Pippin took a deep breath, sighing out his reply and barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes while his mother continued fussing over him. Tulip quickly chimed in, and of course, agreed with every word. After all, his mother had warned him, and so had she! Pippin laid his head back on his pillow and sighed. He knew he was unlikely to hear the end of this talk anytime soon, and he wasn’t at all surprised that Tulip had decided to toss in her own ha’pence.

“Now you’re going to be stuck here, and miss out on all the fun tonight. And simply because you couldn’t listen to your mother in the first place.” Eglantine bent and plucked several pieces of straw out of her son’s auburn hair before continuing her lecture.

“But nothing, m’lad.” Eglantine picked up Pippin’s hairbrush off the nightstand and removed more straw from his hair, then gave his curls a good brushing in the process.

“Oww!” Pippin batted his mother’s hand away as she struggled with a particularly stubborn snarl. “I can do it myself, Mum,” he grumbled as Eglantine clucked at him and then handed him the brush.

Pippin rested in bed, a pillow elevating his swollen ankle and a bright white bandage decorating his forehead. Tulip perched next to him, a matching binding adorning her hoof, a bandage on her snout, and a tiny splint wrapped around her tail. Pippin was quite certain he could see steam coming from her ears, as much as his mother’s, and they wore almost the same frown. He grimaced. There was nothing like being scolded from opposite directions at the same time.

Eglantine bustled about his room while she waited for Paladin to fetch some ice for Pippin’s sprain. “Ah, here you are.” She took the cool cloth from her husband and wrapped it gently around her son’s foot, then placed the ice bag on top.

“That’s cold!” Pippin protested, grabbing for it, and Tulip squeaked in agreement. Eglantine gently swatted his hands away.

“Yes, and if it were warm it wouldn’t bring down the swelling, now would it?” Paladin chuckled and ruffled Pippin’s hair, picking a few more stray bits of straw out of it. He tipped his son’s chin up with his finger, his expression now serious. “And I don’t want to find you jumping down into the hay from up in the rafters ever again, you hear?”

Paladin planted a kiss on the top of his son’s head. “Good. See that you remember that.”

Pippin nodded and darted a sideways glance at Tulip. The piglet’s frown had deepened and he had the feeling she’d have a great deal more to say once they were alone. He could already hear her mumbling at him under her breath. Suddenly it seemed like a good idea not to be alone with her. He had done a very foolish thing this time and ignored Tulip’s warning every step of the way. He clutched at his father’s hand as he turned to leave. “Da, will you stay with me?”

“What?” Paladin chuckled again and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s the matter, Pip? You’re going to be fine.” He winked at Tulip, “And so is your knitted friend. I have work to do--”

Eglantine met her husband’s eyes; her own crinkled with a smile. “Pad, why don’t you take some time and stay with our lad? The help can certainly handle the chores just fine on their own.”

“Well,” Paladin slipped his arm around Pippin and slid onto the bed beside him, “I suppose that’s true enough.”

Pippin’s eyes brightened, but his left ear twitched as Tulip whispered that she was quite well aware of what he was doing. Did he really think he was going to escape hearing what she had to say that easily? “I know that,” he hissed, trying to quell her rant quickly.

“Umm, nothing. Will you tell us a story?” Pippin gave his father his most endearing look of innocence.

“Aye, you do just that, Pad, and keep him quiet whilst I prepare a tray for you both. You can share your luncheon before you go back outside.”

“Well, I can’t say that I feel like protesting that.” Paladin settled back against the pillows and pulled Pippin close. “Being served my noon meal in bed by my lovely wife, and having the privilege of telling my son a story. What more could a hobbit ask for?”

“And Tulip too!” Pippin scooped her up and placed her gently on his father’s lap.

“Ah me, your piglet friend has certainly had a rough day too, hasn’t she now?” Pippin nodded vigorously. Paladin held up the toy and examined her with a critical eye. “And who put this very fine splint on her tail?”

Pippin nodded again. “Tulip knows that too.” He leaned over and whispered to his father, “She’s just not all that pleased with me right now.”

Paladin stifled a laugh. His boy was certainly clever; Pippin’s imagination soared at all times, and the lad’s thoughts surely raced a mile a minute. Paladin got a great deal of entertainment out of listening to him. He patted the piglet on her bandaged snout. “And tell me, just why is your little friend unhappy with you?” Pippin took a deep breath and Paladin knew his son was gearing up for a rather long explanation.

“I guess because we were taking a stroll around the farmyard and Tulip told me we should go play on the new swing you made for us, but I wanted to do something else. So she agreed to go along with me, but only if what I wanted to do was something Mum would approve of, so then we got into a wee bit of a struggle over what we could do and what we probably shouldn’t do, and Tulip told me not to do it but I did it anyway, and now here we are. Oh, and Tulip broke her nose.” Pippin held up the two pieces of a pink button that was cracked in half, and waited for a reply.

Paladin felt like his head was spinning. He gazed back at his son, his eyes wide, waiting for the rest of the explanation. “And?”

“And, well, umm…then I wanted to try leaping down into the hay pile underneath the loft, but Tulip said it was too far for me to jump, but I said I thought I could do it--”

“Wait,” Paladin held up a hand to stop the flow of words. “Tulip was right, and you know it. Besides, you’ve been warned time and again not to try that. You never know what way you might land in the hay, or even miss it completely and hit the hard floor.” Paladin touched the bandage on Pippin’s forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t hit it square on or this might be even bigger. It’s far too easy for a small lad like you to get hurt, even if the pile is large.”

Pippin sighed. “I know. But I told Tulip that I just had to try it once. You know, because if I didn’t ever try it I wouldn’t know if I could do it and--”

“And some things are better not tried the first time, Peregrin Took, or it might end up as the last time! What you did was dangerous and you were warned not to. So now, as your mother said, you’re going to miss out on the fun at the barn dance tonight.”

“And do you think you should be allowed to go after disobeying us today?” Paladin raised an eyebrow.

“Someone has to stay home with you too, lad. And remember, whoever that is will miss out on the fun as well.”

“I know…” Pippin’s voice trailed off. “But I’m really very sorry now, Da! And poor Tulip was looking forward to it so much.” He looked up hopefully. “You wouldn’t change your mind, would you?”

“Ah well, I’m sure your piggy will understand.” Paladin shook his head. “No, Pippin, I won't.”

“Something exciting, and scary, and filled with strange animals and faeries and, uh, well not something with a moral to the ending, all right?”

“No morals? Pippin, every story has a moral, or a point, if you will. Else it wouldn’t be a story.”

“Oh.” Pippin’s eyes flicked over to Tulip and he watched her face break into a huge grin right before she stuck her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes and settled against his father’s side. “All right. If you’re certain it must.”

“I’m certain. Hmm, let me see.” Paladin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know! I’m going to tell you the tale of poor Sammy-Lambie.”

“Very good, lad. Yes, you’re correct.” He squeezed Pippin in a hug, and then settled back into the pillows. “Now, I think it’s important for both you and Tulip to listen to this story very carefully.”

Pippin nodded and patted Tulip’s head. The piglet still rested on his father’s lap and he wondered how long it would take before she decided to forgive him. “I feel awfully bad that Tulip got hurt today. I should have kept her safe.” Pippin winced at the memory of their fall. Instead of leaping he’d wound up tripping in his hesitant attempt, and landed on top of her. Tulip’s button nose was ground into the barn floor as they toppled off the hay pile. His head had hit the ground with a crack too, but the first jarring pain he’d been aware of was in the ankle that had twisted beneath him.

“Mum’s going to fix her nose.” He examined the cracked button thoughtfully, turning it this way and that. “It must be dreadful to break your nose,” he observed, and winced when Tulip informed him that he really had no idea!

“Well, that’s a relief!” Paladin gave his son a squeeze. “And I’m certain Tulip will appreciate it.” He gazed at nothing in particular for a moment, before beginning his story.

“Sammy-Lambie was a lovely, fat, fluffy white stuffed sheep that my mum gave me when I was a big lad, all of ten years old--”

“What? And can’t your old da have a stuffed toy when he was but a wee lad like you, hmm?”

Pippin stifled his giggle with one hand. “I suppose so, but I have a difficult time…”

“Imagining your father as ever having been your age, I know. Ahem! Sammy and I went everywhere together, just as you and Tulip do. I was very fond of him. As a matter of fact, he and I did much the same kind of mischief as you and Tulip, except I wasn’t nearly as naughty, of course...” Paladin paused, waiting for the protest, and was not disappointed.

Pippin grunted his disdain. “Da, do you really expect us to believe that?” He squinted up at his father, wrinkling his nose.

“Believe what? That I was a much better behaved little lad than you are most of the time?” Paladin wore his finest air of innocence.

Pippin snorted and Tulip tried to join in, accidentally blowing her bandage off her snout with the effort. It landed in Paladin’s lap with a soft plop and he laughed aloud at the absurdity. He lifted the toy up and eyed it with curiosity.

Pippin joined his father in laughter, and then settled the binding carefully back in place. “Sorry, lass. I know your wee snout is tender.” He patted her soft head and wisely allowed her to have her say. Tulip sputtered her indignation at both of them. Pippin leaned over and whispered in his father’s ear, “I think Tulip’s all in a state because we laughed at her.”

Paladin scratched her behind her ears. “Oh well, we’re very sorry Tulip! Aren’t we Pip?” He winked at Pippin, who bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically.

“Oh, aye! Of course we are, lass. Are you going to tell the story now, Da? Most especially the part where you’re not nearly as wicked as I was?” Pippin batted his eyes at his father in his own best expression of exaggerated innocence.

Paladin chuckled warmly and drew him closer. “Well, one day when we were visiting Brandy Hall for a week in the summer and I was allowed to go fishing with a few of my cousins and friends at the Brandywine River…”

Paladin nodded. “Sammy wound up going for a swim, quite unexpectedly. Well, of course I had to try and save him--”

Paladin laughed. “Aye, and a rather large ‘uh oh’ ‘twas, and no doubt about it. But I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

“And poor Pad, too! Without thinking, I hopped into one of the small boats and threw off the rope that secured it to a tree, very determined to rescue him. I started to float away quickly, and I was soon going down the river at a fair pace, but the only thing on my mind was trying to catch up with Sammy! Until I realized the boat paddles were still lying on the riverbank. Well then, I knew I was in serious trouble because I couldn’t steer the boat. Not that I really knew what I was supposed to be doing anyway, because I hadn’t been in a boat more than a couple of times before in my whole life. So I sat there helplessly and watched Sammy float farther away from me.”

“What happened then?” Pippin pressed against his father and stared up at him, eager for an answer.

“Well, by then two of my cousins were coming after me in the other boat, and with the rowing paddles, thank goodness, and coming as fast as the rapidly flowing river allowed them. But…” Paladin paused again. He looked down at Pippin and sighed. “The current had already picked up and I was starting to move away from them even faster. Oh, I remember how hard they were trying to reach me! And it was then that I finally took my eyes off Sammy and began to consider the danger I was in.”

“Oh!” Pippin curled up even closer to his father while he imagined his da as a small boy, trapped in the middle of the swift running Brandywine River in a rowboat.

“I was never much for the water, and I started to think about how I couldn’t swim. Pretty soon I began to imagine all the terrible things that might be about to happen. Oh! And then the boat began to rock in the roughening waters and I was quite terrified I was going to fall in any minute!”

“The others finally caught up to me and threw me a rope. But a sudden strong current hit the boats just then, and I was tossed over the side!” Pippin gasped. “Aye!” Paladin nodded vigorously. “It was truly awful! And I was never so terrified in the whole of my young life, as I was at that moment.” He drew a deep breath and let it out. “Whew, but luckily, they were able to pull me into their boat straight away. We were even able to tie a rope to the bow and tow the other one along with us. And so we all made it out safely in the end.” He shook his head in regret. "But, I couldn't rescue Sammy."

Pippin gazed up at his father, his mouth forming a round ‘O’ of amazement at the odds his father had overcome.

“I had some very bad dreams for many a month after that incident,” Paladin chuckled. “And there wasn’t any lad in the entire Shire who was happier to see his cousins, as I was when they caught up with me at last. I knew they were of a mind to scold me soundly for my rash behaviour but they just couldn’t bring themselves to after I had fallen overboard. Or, so they told me later.” He laughed again. “They even defended me to your Granda because I had been so obviously panic stricken. So, after all was said and done, my father decided I had been punished enough by the experience itself. And because I had lost my beloved Sammy.”

Father and son remained quiet for several moments. Finally, Pippin spoke in a soft voice; “I’d feel so dreadful if I lost Tulip like that. And I’m so sorry you lost your friend, Da!”

Paladin patted his son’s arm and handed him Tulip. “Thank you, lad. Just try to remember that all of our actions carry consequences, and some may be more serious than we can imagine at the time. What if there had been a stray pitchfork lying in that hay? Or if you had cracked your head much harder? Or…well, I think you’ve got my meaning.”

Paladin closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then met his son’s bright eyes with his own. “I’m simply asking you to think harder and longer before you act, Pippin.”

They both looked up as Eglantine pushed the door open with her hip and placed a heavily laden tray on the foot of the bed. Paladin whistled. “Your mother, as usual, has outdone herself.”

Pippin bobbed his head with equal enthusiasm and gestured for someone to hurry up and give him something to eat. Eglantine pulled up a chair and began preparing a plate for her son.

“Mum!” Pippin tried to bounce up and down, but dislodged Tulip from her perch and was scolded roundly by the knitted piglet. “Sorry, Tulip.” Pippin tenderly placed her back on her pillow. “Da just told me a story about his Sammy-Lambie.”

“The one when I lost Sammy in the Brandywine. You’ve heard it before, Tina.” Paladin winked at his wife covertly.

“Ah, yes. So I have.” She handed Pippin his plate. “Eat your luncheon now, my lads, before anything gets cold.” She didn’t have to tell them twice.

Eglantine watched her husband head down the hallway with the tray of dishes from their meal. “Sammy-Lambie? The stuffed sheep your sisters teased you so much about because he went everywhere with you.”

Eglantine followed him. “But Pad, you told me that you lads all went out in the boat knowing full well you weren’t allowed to. And it was your cousin Milo who actually fell in, wasn’t it? As I recall the story, the older lads were teasing you and snatched your toy away, and sometime during all the shenanigans of grabbing for him, Sammy got flung overboard and Milo ended up following him. He didn't just decide to leap in and go for a swim on his own. Milo or Sammy either one, that is!"

Paladin looked at her a bit shamefacedly after placing his burden on the kitchen table. “Well…I thought my story gave Sammy a rather more dramatic ending. And it was a good way to make an important point with Peregrin. Maybe while he’s busy being concerned with the well-being of his piggy, he’ll keep himself out of more messes while he’s at it.” Paladin gave her a wide grin.

“Hmm, and perhaps you should tell Pippin you were being disobedient, and not heroic as you made yourself out to be?” Eglantine chuckled. “And the way you lads’ parents really reacted to your wee voyage, eh?”

Paladin snorted. “That, my dear, wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun for me!”

“Hmm, I suppose not. Well now, would you like me to make you another Sammy-Lambie, Pad? Then perhaps you and your son might go do a bit of sightseeing, and show your wee friends the lay of the land around the Took farm?” She gave him a wink. “You never know, it could be a great deal of fun.”

“There’s a thought, now.” Paladin pretended to consider the notion. “Just be certain you make him very fat and fluffy though, just like the first Sammy. With a small spot of black,” he pointed to his nose, “just about here on the left side of his muzzle. Oh! And be sure to make him a collar. The original Sammy-Lambie had a very nice one that Mum knitted to go along with it…” Paladin continued to add items to the list as he followed his wife into the kitchen.

“…’twas blue and green entwined, as I recall. My favourite colours, you know. Also, you might--”

Eglantine stopped and turned, placing a hand over his mouth. “Dearest, any more of this and I’m going to start believing you’re serious! Well, I know without a doubt now where Pippin gets most of his imagination and his ability to talk non-stop.” Eglantine chuckled as she started to gather up the dishes and carry them to the sink. “I always did suspect it was from your side of the family.”

“Tina, perhaps you could knit a Sammy-Lambie? I have missed that stuffed sheep so much all these years, and it…” Paladin’s voice trailed off. “What?”

“For Pippin, I mean! He can add it to his collection of farm animals. Oh, mercy, you didn’t think that I actually wanted it for myself?”

“Oh! Well then, maybe I’ll see what I can do.” Eglantine laughed as she turned to the sink, missing the twinkle of delight in her husband’s eyes.

The high-pitched squeal was painful to his ears, but he couldn’t stop to cover them. Instead, he increased his efforts all the more, and shouted over the roar of the waterfall ahead, “I’m coming lass, hang on!”

Pippin felt like he was swimming in butter. No matter how hard he fought against the current, he simply couldn’t reach her, and she was floating farther away from him very quickly. “Oh no!” He watched in horror as his ever-present companion went crashing over the falls on her back, her tiny hooves waving helplessly in the air as she toppled. Tulip screamed out his name one last time.

“Tuuulipppp…!” He reached out for her even though he knew it was useless, and then felt himself being drawn downward into the swirling waters. “NOOOOOO…”

Pippin’s eyes flew open and he darted them wildly about the room, at first seeing nothing but the black, foamy water that only moments ago had threatened to swallow him. “Help me…”

Another shake of his shoulder, this one much rougher, pulled him out of his nightmare at last. His sister looked down at him with concern. Seeing that he was fully awake, Pimpernel released him and stood back. “My, what a dream that must have been.” She shook her head. “I could hear you halfway to the kitchen!”

“Dream?” Pippin mumbled, still a bit dazed. It all came rushing back to him then, and he looked about frantically, probing at the covers on his bed until he located Tulip at last. His knitted friend peered up at him from beneath the blankets. He released his breath in a loud sigh of relief and gathered the piglet into his arms. Rocking slightly back and forth, he gripped her fiercely for several moments. Meanwhile, his sister brushed back his sweaty curls and sat on the edge of the bed, attempting to soothe him.

“It’s all right, dearest. ‘Twas simply a bad dream.” Pippin whimpered and she gathered him close. “Shh, now, nothing is going to harm you. I promise.”

Pippin looked up at her at last, brushing at his tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt. He held Tulip up. “I almost lost her, Nell! In the Brandywine…it was awful.” He began to sob again and Pimpernel gathered him close.

“Shh, now Pip. You haven’t lost anyone. Why, Tulip’s right here with you, isn’t she now?” Pippin continued to cry while Nell murmured softly to him. At last, he quieted and she positioned him back against the pillows. Brushing the last of his tears away with her own soft handkerchief, she studied his face. Pippin returned her gaze and smiled when his sister bent to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Pippin released a sigh. “I…I was thinking about the story Da told me, you know, the one about his Sammy-Lambie?” Pimpernel smiled and nodded. “And, the next thing I knew I was in a boat and Tulip was floating away from me fast. Then I fell in! Oh, and the water was so cold and dark, and I just couldn’t reach her…and then Tulip was crying out for me to save her and I couldn’t, I just couldn’t--” Pippin started to cry again.

“But, love, it was only a dream. And here you both are, safe and sound. Now dry your tears and just remember to stay out of small boats, eh?” Pippin joined in her laughter. “And perhaps Da should be more careful about the stories he tells you.”

“I feel better now.” Pippin hesitated. “But I feel bad that you missed going to the barn dance because of me. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what Mum and Da told me.”

“Aye, but you will next time, right?” Pippin bobbed his head up and down vigorously.

“Shh now.” Pimpernel tapped him on the tip of his nose. “Go back to sleep, all right?”

Pippin nodded. “Thank you, Nell,” he whispered as she closed the door only halfway behind her. The lamp at the side of his bed dimly lighted the room, but it was enough for him to see Tulip watching him expectantly. He lifted an eyebrow in innocence. “What?”

Tulip reminded him that they hadn’t had their own little talk yet and now was the perfect time. “Uhhh…” Pippin darted his eyes about the bedroom, looking for an excuse, any one would do. He turned back to find her shaking her head. “Oh, very well then,” he grumbled. “We may as well get it over with. Are you going to scold me some more?”

Tulip tilted her pink head to one side and twitched an ear thoughtfully. No, she told him finally, before crawling up into the collar of his nightshirt where she could settle on his shoulder, close to his ear. But she did want him to listen to her very carefully this time. Pippin turned his head just enough to offer her a puzzled frown. He giggled when Tulip stuck out her hoof and patted his nose. He very gently touched her bandage. “Mum is going to fix your nose tomorrow. She told me so.”

Yes, she knew that already. But that wasn’t what their conversation was about. “What then?” Pippin looked straight ahead, bracing himself for more admonishment. Tulip snuggled up very close to his ear and sighed. Pippin knew her nose pained her. A new wave of guilt swept over him. No. Tulip tapped him on the ear with her uninjured foot. No more of that, she told him firmly. We will both be fine. “What do you want to say, then?” Pippin giggled when her soft breath brushed against his neck. You frightened me today, she told him, then fell silent.

Pippin eyed her as closely as he could at the odd angle. “I frightened you?” His eyes widened. “But, I thought you liked to do the same things as me! You like the loft; you’ve told me that before! And you like trying new things, and playing in the straw and hiding in the barn and playing pranks on the farmhands and I don’t see that what I was doing should be frightening to you because--”

Tulip listened to the youngster patiently before admonishing him to slow down and catch his breath. Yes, she liked the loft. And sitting in the hay with him, and dreaming their dreams together. And making plans for the next day. She did not, however, care to see her lad pretending he could fly and putting himself, and her too, in such utter danger!

“What? I didn’t think I could fly. I, I…I was simply jumping into the hay pile!” The piglet clucked and shook her head from side to side, careful not to lose her bandage. You were trying to see if you really might be able to fly as if by magic, she told him firmly, and Pippin’s face reddened. “How come you always know these things?” Tulip chuckled politely. You are my hobbit lad. I know all about you. Now stop pouting. Her last comment caused him to giggle.

“I’m sorry Tulip.” Pippin whispered. “I never meant to harm you, or to get hurt. You must believe me!” Tulip patted his cheek with her delicate hoof. Please be more careful. I couldn’t bear to lose you. Pippin turned and was astonished to find her eyes wet. “Oh.” He scooped her off his shoulder and hugged her to him. Tulip quickly reminded him to be very careful of her nose, her hoof, and her tail! He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at that. “Are you certain you’re not exaggerating things just a wee bit, lass?” Tulip frowned mightily. “Uh, I suppose not,” Pippin hurried to make amends and planted a kiss on the bandage decorating her injured snout. He was pleased to see that she was grinning up at him now.

“All right. I’ll promise to be more careful if you promise not to scold me as much.” Tulip shook her head and Pippin was not surprised at her answer. I will do whatever I need to in order to keep you safe from harm. That, my lad, is a promise.

“I’ll keep you safe too, Tulip. I didn’t much care for the dream I had.” Tulip informed him that she didn’t either! The pair settled in for the night, secure in their newfound understanding.

Eglantine watched her lad as he slept peacefully, his knitted piglet tucked up under his chin. One small hand still clutched a storybook to his chest. She leaned down and tenderly kissed his forehead, finding it warm to the touch. She wondered if he was catching a cold after the trauma of his fall from the loft. He had always been so small for his age, so vulnerable. Eglantine didn’t want to consider what their lives would have been like if they had lost him as a wee infant when he came too soon. She smiled to herself as she gathered her knitting items, then planted herself in the rocking chair near his bed and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, remembering.

Pippin had been anxious to see the world, even then. He had come early, and he had fought for life through the many rough months of worry and fear that his family had suffered. She opened her eyes and set the chair to rocking gently. But just look at her wee lad now, boldly seeking every adventure that he could find or create for himself…Eglantine shivered suddenly. Yes indeed, that was her son. It seemed to her that Pippin spent nearly every waking moment at that task. She sighed, shaking her head as she watched him sleeping so serenely. It hadn’t taken her many years to empathise with her husband’s mother. Pippin was his father’s son, no doubt about it.

She giggled, trying to imagine, and not for the first time, what mischief Paladin had found at that age. She could just see him in her mind’s eye, sprinting across the meadow just like their son, seeking new worlds to explore. He would be toting his Sammy Lambie in one arm, fishing pole in the other, and running headlong into whatever exciting activity awaited him. Ah, yes. Eglantine plucked her knitting needles from the basket and then removed a large ball of creamy coloured wool. Sammy Lambie, the wayward sheep that had gone for an unexpected swim so many years ago. He would be a nice surprise…for both lads.

Eglantine began to knit while her thoughts continued to wander. She wondered if young Pad had cried or pitched a fit when he realised what had happened, and made a mental note to ask him. She giggled again. No doubt he would puff himself up to his full height and indignantly reply in the negative, but she wasn’t easily fooled when it came to her husband. She gazed down at the items in her hands. A new Sammy Lambie, indeed. She imagined that Paladin would secretly be as pleased as their son. Eglantine hummed a soft tune as she worked.

Pippin stirred at last, and opened one eye to look about the room. That habit always amused her. It was almost as if he didn’t want to bother with the other one unless there was good reason. He spied her quickly and struggled to sit up, deftly catching hold of Tulip before she took another tumble. He set his toy on the pillow next to him and smiled at his mother sleepily.

Pippin considered before answering. He leaned down and touched his foot hesitantly. “My ankle feels better.” He grinned at Tulip and picked her up, holding her snout to his ear. “Tulip says her foot feels better too, but her nose still hurts.”

Eglantine rose and peered into his eyes, touching his cheeks and forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you sure you feel all right? I thought you were just a smidgen warm, earlier.”

“Well, I suppose we could make you a place on the couch in the sitting room. I’ll join you for a time with my mending.”

“But Mum,” Pippin whined, “I’m tired of lying about in bed. Tulip and I both want to go outside.” Pippin frowned as Tulip whispered in his ear. He sighed, and looked at her crossly. “Well, I want to go outside, even if you don’t!” Tulip haughtily turned her back and huffed that he should be glad to stay in bed and keep her company. After all, it was his fault she was sporting a sore hoof, sprained tail, and a broken nose!

“I’m very sorry, lass. I told you that already. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” Tulip reminded him how upsetting it was to see her lad injured, as well, and all because he hadn’t heeded her warning in the first place. Pippin thought about their talk at bedtime.

“Yes, but--” he tried to protest, but Tulip wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise. No buts about it, the knitted piglet shook her head. It was just like his da had told him yesterday. He needed to learn to listen better, and most especially to her. After all, it was her job to look out for him. Tulip grumpily reminded him again how they’d missed all the fun at the barn dance. And she’d been looking forward to it all week! Pippin rolled his eyes. “All right.” He held her up and looked at her askance. “Are you quite finished with making me feel guilty?” He listened carefully for a moment, eyes widening. “You’ll think about it, but only after your nose is fixed? Mum!”

Eglantine chuckled as she watched her son’s antics. Sometimes she almost thought his stuffed piggy was alive. Pippin certainly seemed to believe it. “What, my love?”

“How soon can you fix Tulip’s nose?” Pippin waved the piglet at her, causing his little friend to squeal in a shrill voice. “Oops, sorry.” Pippin placed her gently on the pillow again and patted her head, then was forced to listen to another round of scolding. “Are you quite finished now?” he inquired stiffly. Tulip merely grunted. “I just want to get back to being friends again,” he appealed. He turned to his mother. “She’s in a bad mood with her broken nose, and all.”

“Ah well, we’ll see if I can do something about her nose after first breakfast. All right?”

Pippin nodded enthusiastically. “Did you hear that, Tulip? Now, may I get up? I have to go to the privy!” He chuckled and winked at his mother before whispering, “Tulip does too.”

“Oh my, well yes of course then. Your father should be coming in any moment and we’ll have him carry you to the bathroom.”

“I know you probably could dear, but the more you keep your weight off that ankle, the more quickly it will be well. Now wait whilst I go find your da.” Eglantine put her work away and went in search of her husband. Paladin was just coming in from the barn as she met him at the door. “Your son needs a lift to the privy.”

Paladin grinned. “I’ll go scoop him up then. I need to wash up too.” He headed towards his son’s room and paused at the door, listening to the steady stream of conversation. Pippin and Tulip were apparently having a lengthy discussion about their fall. He snickered under his breath. Well, if he couldn’t always get through to his son perhaps the knitted piglet could. All that mattered was that the lad was kept safe.

He almost hated to interrupt the lively discussion that was taking place. Paladin tilted his head in wonder as he listened. He was frequently told that Pippin was just like he had been as a lad. Was that really so? Paladin seemed to remember himself as being a more serious youngster. But then, it was sometimes difficult to remember that long ago. Hmm, it might be great fun to relive some of those times with his son. As he entered the room his attention fell on his wife’s knitting in the rocking chair and couldn’t stop his grin from widening. The ball of wool was just the right colour…

“Now let me see…” Eglantine felt around in the bottom of her knitting basket for her button box. Pulling it out she opened it and studied the contents with a frown. “Hmm. I don’t seem to have any of the right colour buttons. Or, the right size, for that matter.”

Eglantine chuckled at her anxious son. “Not to fear, m’lad. Tulip’s nose will be repaired, and no doubt about it.” She set about examining the knitted piglet closely for a few minutes as she considered. Her face brightened. “I know just what to do,” she told Pippin. Smiling, she set to work reconstructing Tulip’s snout with her embroidery thread. “Hmm, it appears that her wee mouth has been damaged as well.” Eglantine tugged at the loose threads. “Ah well, we’ll just be giving you some additional repair in that area along with your new nose, eh lass?” She smiled lovingly at her son’s favourite toy as she worked with deft fingers to repair the damage. Pippin watched the operation closely the whole time, every now and then reaching out to hold Tulip’s hoof in support.

At last, Eglantine held her up and inspected her work. Tulip now sported a fine new snout crafted of thick pink wool in place of her button. ‘I think she likes it, Mum,” Pippin crowed. “Let her look in your mirror!” Eglantine handed over her small mirror and he held it up to Tulip’s face. “See? All better now! She does like it!”

“Well, I am very glad to hear that. Now, allow me to take the bandage off her hoof--”

“Aye, the splint too.” Eglantine worked for a few more minutes before handing Tulip over at last. “There. All better now. And you both best be staying that way for a long while. Isn’t that right, m’lad?”

Pippin bobbed his head up and down in swift agreement. “Don’t worry, we learned our lesson--” Pippin turned his head and listened to Tulip’s chatter. “Ah, I meant to say I learned my lesson. Tulip didn’t need to because she already knew, and she tried to stop me.” Pippin rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper to his mother. “She’s never going to let me forget it, you know,” he complained.

“Good, I’m very glad to hear it.” Eglantine patted her son’s shoulder. Now, put your ankle back on the pillow and get some rest. I’m going to sit here and work while you two nap.”

Pippin did as he was told, watching his mother curiously. “What are you making?”

Eglantine held up the cream coloured section of wool she had started to knit. “I’m making a new Sammy-Lambie! You and Tulip will have a new companion.” She chuckled. “That is, if you can get him away from your da!”

“Well now, it’s taken me a few days, but he’s well worth the wait, aye?” Eglantine held up the completed stuffed lamb for her husband’s inspection. He appeared quite suspiciously delighted.

“Oh!” Paladin’s mouth turned up in a wide grin as he took the toy from her and stroked its soft coat. “Tina, why you did a marvelous job with him!” Paladin was unable to hide his glee as he inspected the plump sheep. “He’s so fluffy and squashy, and…and…oh, my! He has a pink nose.” Paladin looked puzzled. “Why a pink nose, dear? Sammy is a lad lamb you know, and his nose was black. I’m certain I told you that.”

Eglantine rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have enough black wool left, but I have a great deal of pink, so I gave him a rosy coloured nose. I don’t think he’s going to mind, a’tall. Not half as much as you seem to, I reckon.”

Paladin eyed the new Sammy-Lambie with a moment of scepticism. “Hmm, as long as he doesn’t mind. I like his wee tail, though. It’s a very fluffy nub,” he chuckled and waved the bottom end of the toy at his wife. “Why, I can just see him shaking it. It does look like a real lamb’s tail.”

“I’m so glad you approve of his tail, Pad.” Eglantine couldn’t help chuckling as she busied herself with picking up her sewing things and placing them back in the basket.

“And the floppy ears, perfect they are! You’ve made them so downy, how did you manage that? Why, I’d say they’re even better than the first Sammy’s were.” He fingered the woolly coat as he stared into the lamb’s eyes, seemingly lost in memory. “And lovely brown eyes,” he mused. “I remember Sammy’s eyes always appeared so real to me.” He squinted at them more closely. A pair of small black eyes gazed back at him in seeming innocence. “I suppose my mum was just exceptionally good at fashioning eyes--”

“Hmm, well perhaps I should be taking Sammy back, and work on his eyes until I get them just right?” Eglantine grumbled as she reached for the toy. “It may take me awhile though…”

Paladin held Sammy aloft and shook his head vigourously, “but as I was about to say, these are very nice too.”

“Well, if you’re certain they meet with your say-so! I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed in him, seeing as how you’ve taken such a shine to him already.”

“The eyes are just fine, Tina. He is a magnificent example of a stuffed sheeper. Just the right amount of fluff, why you can see he’s already got his own personality!” Paladin paused, eyeing the sheep thoughtfully. “But, something’s missing…Oh! My love, where is the blue and green collar? Remember I told you he always wore one? Did you forget--”?

“Oh my, Paladin Took!” Eglantine huffed as she plucked the toy from his outstretched hands. “No, I didn’t forget, but first things first.” Her husband grinned shamelessly and followed her. “Let me just get my knitting basket. Oh, wait,” Eglantine stopped abruptly and turned around just as Paladin collided with her. “Honestly, Pad! You’re reminding me of Dizzy at the moment, dear.”

“Hmph.” Paladin backed up to allow her room to pass, then followed her in the other direction. “Has Pippin seen him yet?”

“No, I thought I’d get your approval first before I give him to the lad.” She paused to retrieve her scissors from the kitchen table and headed back down the hall, her husband once again on her heels.

“Almost as much as you are, I’m sure,” she teased. Paladin didn’t seem to notice.

“You do have enough of the right colour wool for the collar though, don’t you? I mean, a pink nose is passable I suppose, even for a lad sheep, but I don’t want him wearing a pink collar. If you need me to fetch anything for you then why don’t you just leave off on making it until I go into the village tomorrow for…what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eglantine was staring at him in exasperation. “Pad, if you don’t quit fussing over this toy you’re going to drive me completely dotty. Now, quit your fretting. I have quite enough blue and green wool to knit young Sammy-Lambie up a proper collar, don’t you worry.” Eglantine continued down the hall. “And perhaps I’ll even knit him a matching bow, one for atop each ear--”

“What?” Paladin’s eyes widened in alarm and he hurried after his wife. “Tina, no proper lad of…of… any kind, wears bows in his hair and that’s all there is to it!”

“There’s a first time for everything dear.” Eglantine could barely control her mirth as she struggled to appear serious. “Why don’t we ask Pippin what he thinks about it?”

Paladin halted in his tracks staring at his wife’s back as she disappeared into their son’s room. “But…” Shaking his head in consternation, he dashed after her. “Tina--” he opened the door to find his wife doubled over with a fit of the giggles. He paused in the doorway, frowning. Pippin watched them curiously, his eyes lighting up when he spied the stuffed lamb.

“Oh! Sammy-Lambie! Mum!” He reached out with both arms, excited as his mother placed the toy in his hands.

Paladin sat on the bed and reached out to pat the lamb. “He’s not quite finished yet, Pippin. Your mother is making him a collar.” He glanced sidelong at his wife. “No hair ribbons, though!”

“Oh. Look Tulip, its Sammy-Lambie! Just like Da used to have.” Pippin showed her the new toy and grinned when Tulip simply grunted. He leaned over to his father and whispered, “I think Tulip is jealous.”

“Mercy, I hope not. We certainly don’t need your stuffed farm animals to start feuding,” Paladin laughed.

Pippin giggled when Tulip puffed herself up and glared at his father, and then grumbled under her breath about being called a ‘stuffed farm animal’.

“Da, I don’t think Tulip liked it when you called her that. So, will you tell me some more stories about Sammy? But not like that first one. I had a bad dream about Tulip after that.”

“Yes, so I heard. Hmm, move over, boy. Let’s see now…” Paladin settled himself on the bed next to his son and reached for the sheep again. Eglantine tried to resist another giggle at the sight of her two lads, huddled together on the bed, each of them clutching a stuffed toy.

“Pippin, how is your ankle feeling this evening?” Eglantine pulled back the covers and examined his foot, testing the range of motion gently with her fingers. “The swelling is down, good.”

Eglantine stepped back and pursed her lips. “I’d say you might get up tomorrow, but you’ll not be able to walk about very much for another day or two. That was a very bad sprain, young sir!”

Pippin swiveled his head to look up at his father. “Will you tell me more than one story then, seeing as how I’m going to be stuck here in bed for yet another evening?”

“Hmm, let me think…” Paladin rubbed his chin thoughtfully while he turned the sheep from side to side with his other hand. “Nothing to do with the water then?”

Pippin shook his head firmly. “Tulip and I both had a bad dream after your story.”

“Oh?” Paladin raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t heard Tulip had a nightmare too.”

“Well, I’m going to leave you lads to your own devices for now. I’ll check back on the lot of you after awhile.” Eglantine left the room, chuckling, and wondering if the next request for a stuffed toy would come from her son or her husband? Behind her she could hear Paladin already beginning another story that she was familiar with and wondered if he would embellish this one as well.

Paladin settled into the bed comfortably and set the newest member of the family on his knee. He grinned, and then winked conspiratorially at his son before nodding at the toys. “Pippin, I’m going to tell you the tale of how Sammy-Lambie saved me from my sister’s wrath one fine summer day.”

“Which sister? Was it Auntie Esmie?” Pippin giggled at his father’s nod and snuggled in closer. “She’s my favourite aunt.”

“I know she is. But, she wasn’t my favourite sister all the time, you know. As a matter of fact, sometimes she was my least favourite one because she used to pick on me quite often.”

“Aye, much the same, lad, and that’s simply the way it is with brothers and sisters at times. Anyway, this one time in particular Esmie thought she had me right where she wanted me…”

Eglantine passed by Pippin’s bedroom door a short time later and giggled at the direction the story was taking. No doubt about it, ‘twas another of her husband’s tall tales, or at least told the way he would’ve liked to see things turn out.

Much later that evening Eglantine again approached the door of Pippin’s room and listened. Now the only sounds coming from within were the gentle snores of her husband and son. Pushing the door open ever so quietly she entered the darkening room. The sight before her melted her heart and would be treasured in her mind’s eye for the rest of her life. Her lads lay cuddled in peaceful slumber. Paladin’s arm draped protectively around their son, holding him near. Pippin curled up against his father, one hand clutched Tulip to his rosy cheek, while Sammy-Lambie lay tucked safely beneath Paladin’s chin. Hearing someone behind her, Eglantine turned. Smiling, she gestured to her daughter. Curious, Pearl leaned into the room and immediately had a fit of giggles.

“Oh! How precious, Mum do you see that?” Pearl pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter.

Eglantine nodded at them fondly. “I think your father’s long lost lamb has found his way home at last.”

Pippin’s toes brushed across the soft grass as he rocked back and forth, moving the swing slightly. He spun the delicate primrose in his fingers in the same pattern he twirled the swing, brushing his palm back and forth across Tulip’s ears with his free hand until his knitted friend grunted that he was going to rub a hole in them if he didn’t stop soon!

“Oh! I’m very sorry, my lass.” Pippin gazed across the meadow, taking on a dreamy expression while his thoughts danced back and forth, recalling his vision of the wee child, as he wrestled with his promise. He slanted a look at Tulip, who now rested in his lap, and was confronted immediately with the knowing stare; she knew him too well. Pippin sighed. Tulip clucked at him and requested he place her on the ground in front of him so they could talk. Pippin obliged her, bracing himself for what he already knew she had to say.

“I know! I made a promise to Mum,” Pippin said, hurrying to his own defense.

Pippin squirmed, ever so slightly. “I already know I can’t go past the meadow.”

Pippin rolled his eyes at the sky and took a deep breath, preparing his argument. “But I’m really much older now and Mum and Da made that rule so long ago - what does rationalizing mean?” Pippin raised an eyebrow at Tulip’s snort.

“Well, how can I know I’m doing it if I don’t even know what that means? You might at least explain what you’re talking about.”

This time Tulip laughed aloud. Oh my, but her lad was good at twisting his reasoning to suit himself, even if he didn’t realize it. And that really was an impressive pout!

“It’s not very nice of you to laugh at me.” The pout grew into a scowl, as he kicked at the long grass with his big toe. Tulip watched him fondly. Yes, he was clearly irritated with her.

“What do you mean I’m trying to avoid the matter? I don’t even know what it is!”

Pippin wound his arms around the rope that supported the swing on each side and set it moving, mumbling to himself as he swung back and forth. The thought crossed his mind to just leave Tulip behind this time. The more he considered it, the better the notion sounded, until he chanced a look at his friend and his eyes widened in shock. Pippin rubbed them hard and looked again.

Tulip still regarded him calmly from her vantage point at his feet. He could have sworn she was actually standing up on her hind hooves with her front ones planted firmly on her round hips, in an eerie imitation of his mother. Pippin wondered if he had spent too much time in the hot sun? He shook his head to clear it and resumed his close study of the yellow and white primrose.

The two companions shared their silent repose for several more minutes. Tulip’s heart softened at the sight of her irritated lad and asked to be picked up. Wordlessly, Pippin retrieved her, placing her on his shoulder in her usual position, but he continued to sulk. Tulip smiled lovingly and reached out with one soft hoof to pat his ear. He turned his head and couldn’t help giggling at the piglet’s imitation of his sulk.

“Yes, I know you’d rather see me laugh than brood.” He patted her head. “It’s just that. . .well, growing up seems to take so long. When will I be allowed to go further than the meadow by myself? What? You’re not sure?” Pippin started the swing moving again and gave a snort of impatience.

“Where did this come from?” He held the flower up to her snout and grinned when she sneezed. “You don’t know either. It’s a mystery, Tulip! Perhaps we should go exploring and try to solve it?” He gazed longingly across the meadow. “I suppose we’ll find plenty of places to search nearby.”

Tulip nodded enthusiastically, pleased that her lad was at last coming around to seeing things in a different light. She reminded him that his cousin was coming for a nice visit and they would all have a great deal of fun together. Pippin brightened at the reminder and Tulip patted Pippin’s fair curls. She knew he got lonely for other children even though he was very good at entertaining himself. She’d heard his mother speaking of the lack of playmates for her little one just last night, and knew Eglantine was pleased that Merry was coming to spend some time, as he did each summer. Well, the sooner the better, because Pippin definitely needed some distracting. After all, there was only so much she could do by herself!

She’d known he would get around to asking this question, but she could give him no less than the truth. Tulip nodded and nuzzled his ear with her snout. No, I’m not sure who she is. Don’t worry, my laddie, the answers will come with time.

Pippin sighed again. “In time. . .that’s what grown-ups always say. But just when is ‘in time’? Is it tomorrow, or next week?” Tulip chuckled. “Or perhaps next month. Maybe it will be so at Harvest? Or Yuletide?”

Tulip’s chuckle became a laugh. There’s my boy. You have your cheek back again!

No, come now. Let’s go exploring. Merry will be here soon, perhaps by teatime. And I imagine your mum will allow us to take a walk further from the meadow as long as he is with us, yes?

“Hmm, I think you’re right. I’m sure Merry would like that too! Thank you, Tulip. I feel ever so much better now. Let’s go see if Tomias is in the barn. Maybe we can play a trick on him!”

Pippin leaped off the swing in midair causing Tulip to squeak her surprise. Pippin caught her up in his hands before she tumbled to the ground, and she scrambled up into his shirt collar as soon as he put her on his shoulder. She tugged at the tip of his ear, only slightly annoyed at the fright, but not wanting him to think she’d let him get away with it completely unscathed.

“Sorry!” Pippin told her gaily as he skipped towards the farmyard. Hmph, the piglet snorted. The least you might do is pretend you really mean it.

Pippin ignored the barb and trotted after Lily. The white kitty was just coming around the corner of the barn. Spotting them, she hurried over and curled her silky body around Pippin’s legs. “Hullo Lily! And how are you today? Have you seen Dizzy?” The cat answered with a chirp and he looked in the direction Lily had turned. “He went that way, huh? Come, let’s find him!”

He trotted off with Tulip in tow, leaving Lily to spread herself upon the cool grass. She’d be quite content to have a nap under the great oak.

“Ah, and what are you up to today, my boy?” Paladin winked at his neighbor, Togo, and Uncle Teobald Took, as Pippin entered the barn. “Is Tulip keeping you out of mischief? Or is mischief finding you anyway?”

Pippin ambled up to the workbench where his father was busy repairing a chair leg while the workers pitched fresh hay for the cows.

Paladin put down his hammer and reached for the flower, raising his brow. “Hmm, I didn’t think we had any primroses growing in the fields close by. You didn’t pick this from your mother’s garden without her permission, did you lad?”

Pippin shook his head emphatically. “No, it was in my hand after I woke up on our picnic. Ask Tulip!” Pippin waggled the toy at his father.

“You woke up with it. You’re certain of that, eh?” Pippin nodded. “Well, that’s very strange then.” Paladin grinned and ruffled his son’s hair, handing back the primrose.

“Aye, it’s a mystery and we’re going to solve it.” He placed Tulip back on his shoulder and trotted off, heading towards the back of the barn.

“What an imagination that boy of yours has, Pad!” Togo Burrows chuckled, after Pippin was out of earshot.

“Yes indeed, that he does.” Paladin mused, watching Pippin until he was out of sight. “I’m frequently astounded by some of the things that come out of his mouth.” He turned back to his work with a slight shake of his head.

“Hmph! Takes after the Took’s, he does,” Uncle Teo grumbled before sticking his pipe back in his mouth.

The pair of friends spent some time exploring the lower regions of the barn, closely inspecting all the stalls for primroses or signs of the lass in the white frock. Finally, Pippin shrugged and climbed the long ladder to the loft, plunking himself down in the corner and laying back. He gathered an armful of the sweet smelling straw and inhaled deeply, then grinned impishly at Tulip. “I love the loft,” he sighed. Tulip agreed and watched him, a question nagging her.

“What is it?” Pippin sat up, puzzled, absent-mindedly brushing some of the straw from his clothing. “Is something wrong?” Tulip asked him why he hadn’t mentioned the lass to his father. After all, that seemed a more extraordinary event than finding the primrose.

Pippin wrinkled up his brow and thought hard. “I’m not sure,” he answered slowly. “Umm, maybe I forgot about it?”

Tulip quickly reminded him it was wrong to tell a lie. Pippin felt his cheeks grow warm at the gentle chiding.

The piglet considered her lad for a moment then nodded and reassured him, telling him perhaps they could find the answer together.

“All right.” Pippin held Tulip up in front of him and regarded her solemnly. “I promise I won’t ever lie to you, Tulip.”

The piglet chuckled and reached out with a supple hoof to pat his cheek, and told him she already knew that.

“Good!” Pippin’s eyes took on a mischievous twinkle. “Let’s play – tag, you’re it!” Giggling, the youngster plopped the piggy in the hay and crawled away fast on hands and knees, tempting her to follow.

Tulip rolled her eyes at her lad’s trick and quickly joined in the fun, charging off to tag her favourite lad. They romped around the loft, tossing straw and taking turns tagging each other for some time, before collapsing in a heap at last and laughing uproariously.

“That was fun!” Pippin declared, heaving a final armful of straw into the air and laughing as it fell down all around them in a shower. Tulip had to agree. Although she was out of breath, she’d happily have another go shortly.

Paladin’s next shout was accompanied by Dizzy’s baying voice and the sound of chickens scattering, their anxious clucking letting Pippin know that something was happening below. Pippin crawled over to the edge of the loft and saw his father standing below. Paladin gestured impatiently. “Come down from there, lad! Your cousin’s just arriving.”

Pippin squealed with delight and scooped Tulip up, tucking her safely inside his shirt before hurrying down the ladder. He skipped the last two steps and leaped nimbly to the floor, causing Paladin to frown. Pippin shrugged innocently, grinning up at him. His father hurried him along with a gentle swat to the seat of his britches. “Go on now, Merry’s already busy taking his things inside.”

Pippin took off running, eager to tell his cousin all that had happened earlier that day. Dizzy followed, the hound’s frenzied yipping increasing as he ran along beside his young master. Pippin spied Merry coming back outside, and sprinted straight into his arms. “Merry! You’re here! Oh, I’ve so much to tell you and there’s so much we have to do! And look what I have!” Pippin thrust the primrose at him while he continued to chatter.

“And I saw some of the oddest things in the meadow, and…” his voice dropped to a rather loud, conspiratorial whisper, “there’s a wee lass hiding in the woods, just beyond the pasture and she paid me a visit and I think she’s the one who gave me the flower and we have to go find her so will you ask Mum if we can go? I know she’ll say yes as long as you’re with me, and I’m ever so anxious to find out who she is, and if she’s really the one who gave me the primrose and, oh Merry, I’ve missed you so much and we’ve so much to do while you’re here--” Pippin gagged when Merry’s hand descended over his mouth.

“Calm down Pip! I don’t have any idea what you’re going on about. One thing at a time, all right?” Pippin nodded and Merry removed his hand. “Down, Dizzy! Now, take a deep breath - no, take several before you say another thing.”

Pippin drew in several obligatory breaths before continuing more slowly. “Merry, please, we have to go for a stroll across the meadow. It’s farther than I’m allowed by myself, I have to go see something – please!”

Merry knelt and placed his hands on his little cousin’s shoulders. “We will, Pip. I’m sure Aunt Tina will allow you to go with me. But, why all the excitement about beyond the pasture?”

Merry studied him for a moment. He was such an imp, and Merry felt like laughing aloud at the sight before him. Pippin’s clothes were rumpled; he had a streak of dirt across his chin, and another trailing down one cheek. His favourite piglet was peeking out the top of his shirt collar, and there were bits of yellow straw in his tousled hair. Rising, Merry draped an arm around his cousin and steered him towards the farmhouse. “Let’s get washed up before your mother sees you Pip, and then you can tell me all about it.”

Dizzy tilted his head, watching the door bang shut, cutting off Pippin’s continued chatter, and the indulgent chuckling of his older cousin.

“Well, my wee piggy lass! And just where is your young master, hmm? ‘Tis not like him to leave you lying about like this,” Eglantine chuckled as she swept Tulip up from the hearthside. “Ah, I believe he must have forgot you after he finished filling up the kindling box for me.” She fluffed the piglet up and brushed the dust off her before tucking the toy into her apron pocket.

Eglantine set about her chores, making a mental note to remind Pippin not to leave his playthings so close to the fire. She clucked to herself as she began stripping the beds of the linens, thinking how upset her son would be if his piggy had been accidentally brushed onto the fire. Tulip rested inside the big pocket and Eglantine paid her no more mind.

An hour later she carried another basket of wet clothes to hang on the line strung across the yard behind the farmhouse. Pearl joined her and they worked together in companionable silence. Finally, Eglantine straightened her back and glanced around. “Have you seen your brother lately? It seems to me he’s being awfully quiet.”

Pearl grinned. “And we know all too well that a quiet Pippin could be a dangerous thing!” She reached for another sheet, shaking her head. “But, I’m afraid I haven’t seen him since second breakfast, Mum.”

“Hmm.” Eglantine scanned the area with a critical eye. Finding one small lad who most likely wasn’t ready to be found just yet was a daunting task. “Ah well.” She bent to pick up one of the baskets of dry clothing. “I expect he’ll be along soon enough. Whenever his tummy starts reminding him it’s almost time for luncheon.” Pearl chuckled and followed with her own burden balanced on one hip. Neither of them noticed that Tulip had tumbled from Eglantine’s pocket into one of the baskets of dry items.

Inside the barn, Paladin was mixing a bucket of paint while Tomias Hornblower and the farmhand’s younger brother Hammie, observed. His elbow brushed against the handle of the pail and sent it running down his front. “Och! For the love of…will you look at that! That’s just perfect now, it is!” Paladin growled as he jumped back, but not nearly in time. Tomias and Hammie hid their grins.

Grumbling under his breath, Paladin headed for the pump outside the door, stripping his shirt off as he went. As he started to run water into the bucket, the items blowing in the light breeze caught his eye. Wondering if there was perhaps a shirt amongst the washing, Paladin trotted over to the clothesline and spied the basket of fresh clothes that waited his wife’s return. He scooped up the desired item and headed back to the barn.

After washing the paint off himself under the pump, he pulled it on, and then frowned as his arm met with a lump inside the sleeve. He drew out the offending object and stared at Tulip, befuddled for a moment. Rolling his eyes, he couldn’t help chuckling a bit at his son’s favourite toy. “Well, and what have we here? Are you out for a stroll without your young master?” He pulled his shirt all the way on and then plopped the piglet down on top of a stack of hay bales. Paladin resumed his work and soon thoughts of Tulip were far from his mind.

Awhile later, Tomias set about cleaning the stalls. He put his pitchfork aside and retrieved a small pink object from the fresh straw. “What is it, Tom?” asked his little brother. Hammish peered around the older lad’s side.

“Ah, ‘tis Pippin’s pet piggy, that’s all,” he laughed and showed it to him. The younger lad giggled and patted the tip of Tulip’s snout. “Well, we’ll just put her right up here until later. I’m sure Pip will be about looking for her any minute.” Tomias placed Tulip on top of the stall he was cleaning and turned away. It wasn’t long before Tulip tumbled once more. This time she landed on Orangeblossom’s back. The cow didn’t even startle at her soft visitor’s arrival, she simply kept chewing her cud.

Very little time passed before Pimpernel entered the barn looking for her father. She paused to pat her favourite cow and her eyes fell on the bundle of pale pink yarn decorating the back of the animal’s ear like a great earring. “Oh my, who have we here?” Pimpernel grinned at her discovery. Tulip perched behind Orangeblossom’s neck, appearing to whisper her secrets in the cow’s ear. She plucked the errant piggy up and clucked over her. “I know someone who is going to be very glad to see you, my little knitted friend.” Shaking her head in amusement, Nell tucked Tulip inside the bib of her apron and headed for the chicken coop.

Presently, she exited the coop short one well-travelled piglet. Behind her, Tulip’s green embroidered eyes seemed to stare accusingly at Pimpernel’s back from her new spot inside a chicken’s nest. The puzzled hen eyed her company cautiously.

A moment later the door to the coop opened again and Periwinkle, the cook’s assistant, entered. Humming a gay tune the lass collected the eggs quickly with her nimble fingers. She leaped back with a cry when she spied the pink intruder peeking out from behind the fat hen. “Oh! Mercy! Tulip, you gave me quite the fright, you did.” Chuckling, she scooped the toy out of the nest and brushed the clinging straw off her as best she could. “Well now, and I know a lad who is most likely looking for you, young piggy! Let’s be off then, aye? I’ll help you find your little master.” Periwinkle let Tulip ride atop the basket of eggs and left her in the pantry, seated amongst the smooth bounty while she went to look for Pippin.

“I’ll get the bread, Mum,” called Pearl as Eglantine went outside to retrieve more of the wash. Pearl picked up the loaves of bread and reached for one of the big bowls on the low shelf when she spotted Tulip in the basket of eggs. “Tulip, why whatever are you doing in here? Hmm…” Pearl lifted the knitted piglet from the egg basket and transferred her to the sideboard as she passed it on her way to the table. On her next trip from the pantry she spotted Lily, Pippin’s cat, sitting beside Tulip. “Shoo! Go on Lily! You know you’re not allowed up there, you silly cat.” Pearl brushed against Tulip as she passed and the piglet rolled away unnoticed.

Lily watched the toy with interest to see if it would move on its own, like the mice she chased in the barn. When that didn’t happen she decided to give the object a nudge with her paw. Tulip’s wool stuck to her claws and Lily raised her foot and shook it. Tulip continued to dangle until Lily shook her paw again, much harder this time, and sent Tulip careening down the hallway. Her interest renewed, Lily set off after her prey and entertained herself by batting the piglet about. This game entertained her for some time, until she batted Tulip under the bed in Pervinca’s room. Her interest turning elsewhere, Lily abandoned her playmate.

“Where did I put it?” Vinca stopped and placed both hands on her hips and looked around her room with a frown. Her best hair ribbon had gone missing this morning and she was determined to find it. She looked on her bedside stand for the second time, finally dropping to her knees and poking about under her bed. Her face brightened when she pulled out her brother’s favourite companion, and sat back on her heels. Turning the toy over in her hands she noted that Tulip was looking a little scruffy. She got a cloth from the cupboard next to the bathroom and wet it in the basin. Pervinca proceeded to give Tulip a much-needed sponge bath.

Vinca hummed as she sponged and talked to the toy. “Why, I think you need something nice after your busy morning, Tulip my lass,” she giggled. Pervinca pulled out some of her best doll clothes and dressed Tulip in a frilly pink frock. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. “There, don’t you look lovely now. Come, you’re invited to tea!” Pervinca gave Tulip the best spot at her dolls’ table and set out her toy dishes and teapot. The new friends enjoyed their tea and biscuits.

Hearing her mother calling, Vinca headed out of the room. Immediately, Dizzy entered. The hound, all feet and gangly legs, hurried over to lick up the crumbs from the toy dishes. Sniffing at Tulip he decided she smelled too good to resist and he grabbed her ear and took off running and sliding on the slick wooden floors. The front door opened and Dizzy ran out.

“Hullo Diz! Why, what have you here?” Hammie removed the toy from the pup’s mouth. He raised a brow at the rosy frock in which the piglet was now clad, and then tucked her beneath one of his braces just as he had seen Pippin do. He trotted off to look for him and return his toy.

The lad bent to retrieve a rock to throw as he ambled along. He heard the warning flap of wings just a little too late. Pansy was a rather large goose, and she liked to throw her weight around. She headed straight for her target at a fair clip and nipped young Hammie solidly in the bum with her snapping bill.

He yelped and whirled, sending Tulip flying off his shoulder. Pansy’s attention turned to the airborne piglet and she snatched her up before Tulip hit the ground. The goose spun and scurried in the opposite direction.

“Hoi! Wait, you dumb goose – you can’t have her!” Hammie pursued her but after just one cross look from the fowl, the stinging in his rear caused him to rethink his plan. Pansy was one deadly goose when riled, after all. Let Pippin get his toy back himself!

Pansy deposited the knitted piglet back inside the chicken coop, where Pimpernel found her a short time later. “Why, I wondered what happened to you,” she exclaimed, bending to retrieve Tulip. “But…just where did you pick up this pink frock in your travels?” Pimpernel tilted her head in wonder. “Ah well, I imagine it’s likely my little sister found you then, aye?” She laughed. “My, and what a trip around the farmyard you’ve been having, eh my wee lass?” Chuckling, Nell deposited her back inside her apron. “Now let’s just see if you can make it all the way into the house this time, hmm?”

Pimpernel settled Tulip on the stone that surrounded the kitchen hearth. “There, this is a nice cool place for you to wait for Pippin, now that the fire’s gone out.” With a last pat to her pink head, Nell turned to her other tasks.

A little while later, Pippin entered the kitchen in search of his companion and found Tulip curled up asleep on the hearth. He lifted her up gently and stared wide-eyed at the frilly frock in which his piglet lass was clad. Darting a suspicious look around the room, he turned back to her and whispered, “Tulip, what happened to you? You’re wearing a frock? I’m certain you weren’t when I last saw you!”

Tulip’s mouth twitched in her amusement. She informed him she had a great deal to tell him later, but for now, it was simply good to see him. Eglantine bustled into the kitchen, her eyes falling on her son immediately. “Oh! Pippin, lad, remember now, I’ve told you never to leave your toys so close to the fire. Why, something could easily have happened to Tulip and you would be a most unhappy young hobbit if it had.” She looked around, puzzled. “But, I’m certain I picked her up and had her in my pocket with me all afternoon. How did she get back on the hearth?”

Tulip grunted and crawled inside Pippin’s shirt. “Well, she said she had a story to tell me so perhaps I can sort out what happened. What do you think, Mum?”

“I can tell you a little at least, Pippin. Hmm,” Eglantine sank into a chair and considered her actions. “I do recall carrying out the clothes to hang on the line and I know she was in my pocket at that time. Pearl was with me. Maybe she knows something. Why don’t you go find her and ask?”

“Thanks Mum!” Pippin trotted outside in search of his eldest sister. He found his father near the barn, instructing young Hamish Hornblower in his efforts to paint the fence that comprised the pony enclosure. He paused to watch them and Tulip chuckled inside his shirt, and then gave him a riddle to think on. Pippin looked at her with a puzzled frown. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘what happens when a knitted piglet gets dropped in a clothes basket and can’t get out’?” Tulip rolled her eyes in Paladin’s direction and Pippin followed her stare.

Shaking his head, Pippin went to where his father was overseeing the painting and tugged on his sleeve. “What is it, lad?” Paladin glanced down and then quickly turned his attention back to Hammie. “You’ve got to make certain you cover every bit, Ham. That wood’s dry and it’s going to soak up a great deal of the paint as you--” Pippin tugged again, harder this time. Paladin led him away and sat down on the bench outside the barn door. He pulled him close. “What, Pippin? What’s the matter, boy?”

“Tulip went off on an adventure of some kind without me today, and then ended up exactly where I left her, except she was wearing a pink frock!” Pippin held her up to show him, his sharp little nose wrinkled in disgust.

Paladin’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, piggy wound up with new clothes, did she? Well, all I can tell you is that I found her in your mother’s clothesbasket next to the line when I was getting a clean shirt. Perhaps she crawled down one of the sleeves as your mother was taking down the dry clothes.” He winked, gesturing at the barn. “I left her on a hay bale just inside the door. I don’t know what happened after that.”

“Thanks Da!” Pippin headed for the barn while Tulip crawled up into his collar again and rode along happily as he searched the area around the stacks of baled hay, looking for clues. He stepped back and peered at the spot where Da had said he’d left her. “Hmm…” A grunt from the stall drew his attention and he circled around to see Orangeblossom. Tulip peeked out and flashed a little grin at the cow. She doubted Orangeblossom would be able to tell her lad much of anything!

“No clues here, it seems. Come on Tulip! Let’s go!” As Pippin started to go outside Tomias shouted for him. Pippin whirled, surprised. He hadn’t noticed the young farmhand, and now he ran towards him pulling Tulip from his shirt as he went. “Tom! Did you see what happened to Tulip after Da put her on the hay bales?”

Tomias chuckled at the little one, eyeing the knitted piglet in Pippin’s hands. “Hmm, that’s a very nice frock she’s wearing! Perhaps she stopped off to do a bit of shopping while she was out strolling?”

Pippin slanted a thoughtful look at the frill-clad piglet and frowned. Tomias bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Nooo, I don’t think so. It looks like one of Vinca’s doll frocks. But, of course with Tulip you never know what she might do when she’s on her own. Isn’t that right, m’lass?” The farmhand covered his laugh with a polite cough.

“What do you mean I never take you shopping? Why, I took you along just last week when Da and I…oh. You’re right.” He frowned up at Tom. “That’s the day I went into Whitwell with Da and forgot Tulip!” He leaned close and whispered, “She’s never let me forget it. She keeps bringing it up.” This time Tom abandoned his efforts not to laugh. “As a matter of fact, she keeps asking when we’re going to go again. She wants me to get her a scarf just like mine before winter gets here.”

Tomias shook his head fondly at Pippin and patted his shoulder. “Well, as to your question, I did come across her earlier whilst I was feeding the cows. She was hiding in amongst the straw in Orangeblossom’s stall. Looked like she was whispering in the cow’s ear, it did!”

Pippin held the piglet out in front of himself. “How did you get there? Did you fall? Well, that wasn’t my fault, you know. It was Da’s for putting you up there in the first place.” The piglet snorted, but offered no further comment. “You likely were whispering to Orangeblossom. Were you telling her all our secrets?” His only answer was a grin. After all, Tulip knew how to keep a confidence.

Pippin held Tulip up. “She fell off the hay bales and ended up in with Orangeblossom.”

“Well now, she wouldn’t have been on the bales if you’d have kept better track of her, aye?” Paladin reached out to scratch the piglet behind the ears. Pippin grinned when Tulip grunted happily at the attention.

“And clever enough to keep one step, or should I say one hoof, ahead of you all morning, Pip,” Tom chortled.

“Hmm, but after I found her I put her back up on the bales. I don’t know where she went after that,” Tomias said.

Pippin tilted his head thoughtfully. “Tulip, what happened? Did you run off to play with Dizzy or Lily?” Tulip grunted indignantly and informed him they were hardly likely to be her first choice of playmates. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Pippin laughed. “Well? Where did you go next? He listened for a moment and a small frown graced his impish features. “That’s for you to know, and me to find out, huh? All right, I will! Just you wait and see.”

“Well, off with you then lad, and solve the mystery of her great adventure, eh?” Paladin winked at the farmhand.

Pippin trotted off with a careless wave of his hand after plunking the piglet on his shoulder and carefully tucking her under one of his braces. It wasn’t very long before he found his sister picking flowers to fill a brightly coloured vase. “Nell!” Pippin waved excitedly and sprinted towards her. Pimpernel straightened from her task when she heard her brother’s voice and held both arms out to him. Pippin happily ran into them and accepted her hug with delight. He pulled back when Tulip squeaked in alarm and warned him not to squash her.

“My, you seem awfully excited today Pip. What are you up to?” She ruffled his curly locks. “Ah, I see you’ve found Tulip at last.”

“That’s right. For a short while, at least. I came upon her lounging about like a hobbit lass of leisure on Orangeblossom’s neck. Not a care in the world, it seemed. Anyway, I took her with me but I misplaced her somewhere in between the barn and the house. When I went back to the coop I found her inside.”

“She’s acting like ‘twas my fault she went about on her own and got lost,” Pippin muttered.

Pippin shrugged. “I don’t remember.” He winced at the sharp round of scolding from Tulip. Plucking her from his shoulder, he spoke to her patiently. “I said I was sorry for forgetting to bring you along after I filled the wood box with kindling wood for Mum…” Pippin’s eyes widened. “Oh! That’s where I left you!”

Pimpernel laughed at her brother’s behaviour. He was such a inventive lad. She was certain Pip really believed his piglet was holding a conversation with him. “And that’s exactly where I left her to wait for you. After cleaning off the chicken feathers she’d collected! Mystery solved, it seems.”

Pippin shook his head. “But when did she get dressed in a frock?” Pippin shook his head and pointed at Tulip. “She isn’t talking; she wants me to find out what she was up to for myself. It’s a game she’s playing. You know how she is.”

“Ah, all right m’lad. Why don’t you continue on your quest then, while I take these flowers inside and arrange them? They’ll look very nice on the table at supper tonight, don’t you think so?”

Pippin nodded absently, his mind already awhirl with his next move. Tulip laughed gaily and challenged him to guess what happened next. Pippin wrinkled his brow, deep in thought, as he walked towards the farmhouse with Tulip tucked gently under his arm.

Periwinkle opened the door just as he arrived and stopped. “You found her! Well, I thought I’d left her in an easy enough place for you to spy her, eh lad?” The little cook chuckled, walking past him on her way to the vegetable garden.

“In the pantry, of course,” Periwinkle told him as she waved a hand over her shoulder without turning back.

“But…” Pippin eyed Tulip, confused. A piece of the puzzle was missing. He trotted after Periwinkle. “What was she doing in the pantry?”

“She was perching atop the basket of eggs I’d collected.” Periwinkle squatted to gather some carrots and onions and started placing them in her basket.

Periwinkle glanced up at him. “Aye, eggs. I found her in the chicken coop as I was gathering them. Perched on one of the hens’ nests, she was, sitting there just as pretty as you please. Why’d you leave her in with the chickens, lad? Why, I think she scared old Rosie just about half to death! I know she gave me a frightful start, she did!” Periwinkle laughed hard. “I never expected to find a wee knitted piglet amongst the eggs, after all.”

“Here now lad, as long as you’re out here you might as well make yourself useful.” She handed him one of the filled baskets and Pippin accepted it readily. “Take that in to your mum for me, there’s a good lad.”

Pippin tucked Tulip back in his shirt and headed back, the basket of carrots swinging easily back and forth as he pondered. “So, you were in amongst the chickens?” he chortled, “I’d like to have seen that.” Tulip bristled and indignantly informed him that she had most certainly not appreciated the experience and it hadn’t better happen again – or else!

Pippin snorted. “Or else what?” He rolled his eyes. That sounded so like something his mother would say. “Honestly Tulip, you’re getting more like Mum every day. And no, there’s nothing wrong with that…I suppose,” he added softly. Thunder, but Tulip could chatter when she was upset! He set the basket on the floor inside the door and went into the pantry. Pearl was retrieving bread, butter, and jam for the family’s luncheon.

“Pippin! Where have you been all morning? I was looking for you earlier.” Pearl continued with her work while she talked.

Pippin took Tulip out of his shirt and perched her on his shoulder. “I think I’ve been just about everywhere. And I’m still trying to solve the mystery of Tulip’s journey.”

Pearl did stop then, and turned. Her little brother was regarding her with arms folded across his chest, his little jaw set firmly, green eyes beaming. She smiled at his determined pose. He reminded her of a very small replica of their father! “What else do you need to know?”

Pearl shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. Perhaps Vinca does, seeing how Tulip is wearing one of her doll’s frocks?”

“I just saw her outside on the swing a few minutes ago,” Pearl called after him.

Pippin rushed into the grassy area where he and Tulip spent a great deal of their time playing on the swing and climbing the oak tree. Instead of Vinca he spied Hamish Hornblower on the swing. The little lad jumped off the swing, looking guilty.

Hammie shrugged. Spying the piglet under Pippin’s arm he grinned. “Ah, I see you found Tulip. I was trying to bring her to you when Pansy chased me and bit me on the bum! I dropped her and Pansy snatched her up. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened to her after that.”

“Pansy had hold of Tulip?” Pippin squeaked in dismay, darting a look of panic at her. Tulip raised her brow and watched him knowingly. Pippin figured she was trying to make him feel guilty for all her suffering. Pansy? Oh dear! “Ohhhh, poor wee Tulip! I’m so sorry, m’lass.” He hugged her close. Tulip sniffed and reassured him she was fine, no thanks to his carelessness, though.

“I took Tulip away from Dizzy before that. He was running around with her and I thought he might chew her up.”

Pippin felt a shudder run through his entire body at the same time an identical one shivered through Tulip. He eyed her in sympathy. Oh dear! This story was getting worse by the minute now. “I’m going to find Vinca.” Pippin left Hammie with his mouth hanging open.

He found his sister at last. She squealed when she saw him with Tulip. “Oh! There’s my dolly’s frock! I wondered why Tulip ran off with it.” Pervinca was just coming out of her room as her brother appeared in the doorway.

Pippin scowled at her. “You dressed Tulip in a frilly frock! How come? And why was she playing with you?”

Pervinca tossed her hair. “I found her under my bed. She was covered in cat hair so I gave her a bath and then invited her to tea. You should thank me, not yell at me, Peregrin.” Vinca folded her arms and gave him a haughty stare.

Pippin rolled his eyes, disgusted. He turned his back on his sister and dashed towards the kitchen. He and Tulip both needed some reassurance from his mother, and perhaps a hot cup of tea and a few ginger biscuits might help settle their nerves!

Eglantine smiled at her lad and his wee piglet. Gently, she brushed the hair from his forehead and planted a soft kiss there, before making sure the covers were tucked in around the slumbering pair of friends. It was truly amazing the way her small son had been taken by such a simple little gift as his knitted piglet. She kissed the tip of her finger and placed it tenderly on Tulip’s head. “Keep both eyes on him lass, always,” she whispered. “He needs watching over.” Eglantine sighed in content as she pulled the door shut, leaving it cracked open slightly. She was thankful their adventure had ended happily for both, unable to imagine Pippin without his little friend who had taken hold of his heart so firmly.

“Hurry it up now, m’lad, daylight’s wasting!” Eglantine shooed her son to the washroom to shed his muddy clothing. “You’ve been making mud cakes again, haven’t you?”

Pippin nodded, a huge grin on his face. He pointed to his knitted piglet, tucked safely inside his shirt. “It was Tulip’s idea,” he confided and then giggled at her quick response. “Yes it was,” he whispered in her ear loudly enough for Eglantine to hear from across the big room. “You know it’s true.”

Pippin laughed again and his mother simply shook her head and busied herself gathering up the soiled clothing to wash. She paused to check the pockets of the trousers and frowned when her fingers brushed across something with a sharp edge. “Pippin,” she began, pulling out a rock that had a pointed tip. She reached inside again and dug out a number of odds and ends. Another stone, this one smooth and shiny, a penny, a broken yoyo, some bits of tangled string, a button from his shirt. Finally, with a frown of disgust, she extracted a half eaten biscuit and a brown apple core. Her eyes widened in shock and she held these two items out to her son. “You put an apple core in your pocket? Why?”

“Umm, I wasn’t quite finished with it.” Pippin looked down at the floor, rubbing his toes back and forth across the wood. He pulled Tulip from his shirt at the piglet’s snort of disapproval and plunked her on a shelf. “Well, you thought it was a good enough idea when I did it,” he told her with a sniff. “In case you wanted more later. Besides, it’s a perfectly good apple core and it only picked up a wee bit of lint,” he objected as he took the proffered item and brushed at it, “ and a few crumbs. See? Tulip said--”

“Och, for the love of…” Eglantine interrupted with another shake of her head. “Never mind.” She reached back in, this time making a face as she pulled out a sticky piece of toffee, holding it away from Pippin’s reach when he snatched for it.

“No. You may not have it back.” She batted his hand away. “Peregrin, do you want to get sick?”

“But Mum, that’s still good! I can wash it off and--” he stopped when he noticed his mother’s face beginning to flush. That was never a good sign.

Eglantine eyed the dusty and lint coated sweet with distaste as she pried it off her fingers and discarded it without further comment, and then continued her task. “There’s a hole, too,” she grumbled. “Why,” she felt around in the opposite pocket, eyes widening in dismay, “in both of them. Peregrin Took! These britches are practically new. Haven’t I told you a hundred times not to put sharp things into your pockets?” Pippin nodded, the sheepish little grin making her want to chuckle in spite of herself. “What am I going to do with you, lad?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do with me”? He shrugged one shoulder carelessly, his response causing his mother to raise her brow and Tulip to scold him for his cheekiness.

“What I want you to do is finish taking off your dirty clothes and go have a wash before lunch!” Her voice rose slightly as she pointed to the door. “Straight away, now, whilst I put these things in some water to soak. And then, I’m going to show you how to mend your pockets so you’ll have a greater appreciation for the things I have to do when you disregard what I tell you.” She pointed at the door, “Now, march.”

Pippin shuffled past her muttering under his breath and reaching for Tulip on the way out. The hobbit lad in just his smallclothes, clutching a pink knitted piggy to his chest and grumbling in ill concealed consternation at his mother’s failure to understand him, gave Eglantine a hearty laugh as soon as he was out of earshot. “Oh my, what a wee scamp I have there,” she shook her head as she resumed her task, taking out a few more items, including two marbles, a handful of pebbles, and last of all, a grimy hair ribbon from his shirt pocket. She eyed the ribbon, puzzled, before dumping the handful of bits and pieces on the shelf next to the washtub.

Pippin continued down the hall at a leisurely pace, still holding a conversation with Tulip. As they debated the issue of the saved apple core, Pervinca rounded the corner and hurried toward them with purpose. Pippin immediately picked up his pace, suddenly motivated to make it to the privy in record time.

“Pippin! You stole my best hair ribbon, didn’t you!” she yelled as her brother streaked past. “Pippin!” The youngster reached his destination and slammed the door with a bang, leaving Pervinca with a scowl on her face and a determined look in her eye.

“Whew, that was close!” Pippin placed Tulip on the washstand while he tended to his business. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have taken her ribbon. But I needed it because my string got all tangled up. Anyway, I was going to give it back. Besides, how was I supposed to know it was her best one?” Tulip told him that didn’t matter. And now Vinca would be on his tail until she got her own back at him for his mischief. And he should remember that she often got caught in the middle of their foolishness and didn’t like it one bit!

“Aww, I won’t let that happen, m’lass, I promise.” Pippin patted her head. “I’ll give it back. I can find something else to use to tie up my bag of marbles.” He frowned. “After I mend my silly pockets,” he muttered.

Tulip reminded him that was his own fault and he needn’t expect her to help! Still annoyed over the interruption in his plans, Pippin retorted, “Do you ever? Oof!” Tulip stamped her little knitted hoof on his shoulder in retaliation. He plucked her up and held her out in front of him. “What did you do that for? That wasn’t very nice, you know. What? I wasn’t the one being rude, you were!” Tulip begged to differ with him. Pippin sighed and decided not to argue. He hurried to finish washing his muddy hands and face.

“Let’s go get some clean clothes.” Pippin listened, ear to the door, then whispered, “I think it’s safe to go out now.” He cracked the door and made a beeline for his room.

“Pippin, lad – if you poke yourself one more time with that sharp needle you’re going to be so full of holes you’ll leak when you take a drink of water.” Eglantine patiently showed him again how to hold the pocket and insert the threaded needle. She rolled her eyes as her son huddled with the project in his lap, tongue poking out one side of his mouth, and practically cross-eyed with concentration. Tulip watched from her place on the side table, wincing in sympathy every time her lad pricked his fingers.

“OWW!” Pippin dropped both the needle and his britches and popped three fingers into his mouth.

Eglantine gently pulled his hand away and examined them. “Aye, you’re a wee hobbit pin cushion already, you are! Well, that’s enough of that for one day. Why don’t you take your piggy outside for some air? I’ll finish up mending your britches.”

Pippin nodded quickly, happy to be released from the disagreeable task. He snatched up Tulip and trotted for the door, turning to wave with a heartfelt “Thanks Mum,” and disappeared.

“Stay out of the mud,” his mother called after him. “And no more rocks in your pockets,” she sighed, retrieving her sewing and settling down to repair them herself.

Pippin headed out to the farmyard where Pimpernel was busy in the garden pulling weeds. “Do you want me to help, Nell?” His sister grinned and waved him towards her.

“Just whom I’ve been waiting for. Here, Pip. You can carry my basket into the kitchen for me. Put it on the table and I’ll be in to take care of it shortly.”

Pippin tucked Tulip into his shirt and grabbed the basket of assorted vegetables, trotting off towards the farmhouse. He made the mistake of going the long way round in order to peek underneath the steps by the woodshed to see if Dizzy was asleep in his favourite spot. A loud honk and the beating of a pair of large wings caught him totally by surprise and he swung around in a panic. Pansy was hot on his trail, half running, half flying in his direction, her great snapping bill ready for action, her glare one that meant business. What a time to be without his slingshot!

“Oh thunder, she must have some eggs under there today! Let’s go Tulip!” Pippin pressed her to his chest and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. If it hadn’t been for the basket he still clutched desperately at his side, he might have made it all the way to the door in time. A trail of carrots, onions, and potatoes were flung behind him as he fled the huge goose He finally reached the door and tore it open, then tripped over the threshold and fell on the basket, crunching it flat. Pippin yelped and Tulip squealed, and behind them Nell came running just as Pansy seized her opportunity and aimed straight for the frantic lad’s backside. Pippin tumbled inside the mudroom, catapulting Tulip out of his shirt and across the room, as he went skidding across the floor on his belly, bumping his chin on the edge of the door to the kitchen. The knitted piglet bounced once, flew up and spun head over hooves into the dustbin, squealing all the way.

“Are you all right, Pip?” Pimpernel knelt next to her brother after shooing the angry Pansy away, and pulled the shocked lad to his feet. Her mother and sisters appeared at the door then, followed by their cook.

“What’s all this racket about? Oh my, what happened?” Eglantine lifted her son into her arms and headed inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her.” Pervinca pulled the toy out of the bin by her corkscrew tail and carried her held out in front, wrinkling her nose.

‘Don’t carry her like that! She doesn’t like it,” Pippin scolded her and grabbed for Tulip.

“She’s all dirty, and she needs a bath. And she smells bad, just like you,” Pervinca informed him, with all the self-assurance of an older sister as she dangled his toy just out of arm’s reach.

Later on, and a little worse for the wear, but just as determined, Pippin managed to escape from the lasses that were overly concerned with his welfare. He headed outside again, this time looking for Periwinkle to see if he could help the cook’s assistant with the chickens. He rubbed crossly at the spot where Pansy had nipped him, but it wasn’t long before he was cheerful once more. Periwinkle had allowed him to gather all the eggs and then help her feed the chickens.

“After you’re finished raking out you can just spread some fresh straw around, Pippin, and that’ll be all. And thank you very much for being so sweet and wanting to help me!” Periwinkle laughed and ruffled his curls before picking up the egg basket and opening the gate.

“You’re welcome, Peri,” Pippin called out and waved, then went back to raking. He hummed a tune as he worked and was pleased with himself at last for finding a job he was good at.

He was almost done, but decided to fetch just one more armful of the sweet straw before declaring his task finished at last. Pippin leaned the rake up against the side of the chicken coop and moved away, failing to notice its slow tip. Before he could take more than two steps he heard a sickening thud followed by a loud squawk. Frozen in place, he forced himself to slowly turn around. To his utter horror, one of his mother’s prize fat hens lay under the rake handle, apparently knocked out cold. He drew a sharp breath and held it, but Ruby, the red hen, moved no more. Pippin pulled Tulip out of his shirt and stared at her. “Did you see that?” Tulip gave a high-pitched squeak of alarm; of course she had. He’d just managed to slay one of his mum’s favourite, and best laying hens! And it wasn’t even dinnertime…

Later that afternoon the downcast youngster sprawled in the grass beneath the oak that held his swing, his ever-present knitted friend perched on his shoulder trying to comfort him. He had failed at everything he’d tried today, even though he had given it his best effort. He studied his fingers, still sore from poking them with the sewing needle, and rubbed at the scratch on his forehead, received when he’d tried to encourage Lily to come back down from the tree. He had a scraped knee, a bruised shin, and a sore bum where Pansy had bit him. But all of that was nothing compared to his wounded dignity.

He’d made a mess of the mending, scattered his sister’s hard work in the garden all over the yard, not to mention destroying her basket by falling on it, and trampled his mother’s flower garden while trying to pull out some unrelenting weeds. Ones he’d discovered after the fact, were not weeds at all, but new seedlings placed there only the day before. He’d broken all the eggs, hit Dizzy with the pup’s own ball while playing fetch, scared Lily high up into the oak tree quite unintentionally, thrown Tulip into a rubbish bin…and to top it all off he had accidentally killed a prize chicken with a garden rake!

“Even you feel sorry for me,” he moaned, scratching behind Tulip’s ears. She responded by grunting and nuzzling his cheek. “Why can’t I do anything right?” Tulip’s heart melted and she hastened to remind him of all the things he had done well, but it seemed of little consolation to him. Pippin rolled over on his stomach, placed his face in the crook of his arm and began to sob. Distressed in the extreme, Tulip sat next to him patting his shoulder with her hoof and murmuring in his ear.

Pippin only cried harder at the sound of his father’s soothing voice. Paladin was on his way in from the fields and had no clue what a busy day his son had. “Pippin, what’s wrong, boy?” When he didn’t receive an answer he sat next to him and scooped the lad into his arms, rocking him back and forth until he calmed. Finally, he drew back and cupped the quivering chin in his hand, studying his face with concern. “What happened?”

Pippin burst into tears all over again and threw his arms around his father’s neck. “Daaa…” Pippin drew a great gulping breath and then the words came tumbling out nonstop, so fast that Paladin had difficulty understanding just what his son was trying to say. At last, the tears slowed and he had caught enough of his son’s distressed explanation to get the general idea of the problem.

“Ah, so my lad had a very difficult day then, I take it?” He felt the damp face nodding against his now equally damp shirt, and he smiled, pulling Pippin closer. “Well now, we all have days like that, m’lad. Not to worry. I guarantee you everything will look brighter in the morning.”

“But…but, I’m not good at anything! Everything I tried to do today turned out bad!” Pippin sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve. Paladin withdrew a handkerchief and gave it to him.

“You had a very trying day, that’s all. We all do sometimes. No one’s going to hold what happened against you.”

“Aye, so you said.” Paladin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. And what did your mother have to say about it?”

Paladin laughed aloud and held his son close. “Ah, and so is the way of life on the farm, lad. You know that. Now dry your tears, eh? If all you’re worried about is finding a task you’ll be good at, then I’ve got just the thing in mind!”

“Well,” Paladin said, reaching down to scoop up Tulip and place her back inside his son’s shirt, “come with me and I’ll show you. It’s the same job I was given to do at around your age, and as I recall, I became quite expert at it.” Pippin took the hand he was offered and trotted along at his father’s side.

Several hours later Eglantine came out to tell them supper was being put on the table. She smiled at her beaming son as he looked up from his labor. “Why, it looks as though you’ve done a fine job cleaning all this tack, m’lad! Your father is going to be very pleased. Who showed you how to do it?”

Just then Paladin came around the corner of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag. “Da taught me,” Pippin declared with no small amount of pride. He ran to his father and put his arms around him and Paladin hoisted him up. “Da says I’m a natural. And I can help with cleaning the tack all the time.”

“Oh, is that so?” Eglantine chuckled. “Well, I’m certain everyone will be very happy to have your help, Pippin.”

“Oh, mercy yes! We can use all the help we can get. After all, there’s plenty of it to be tended to, isn’t there lad?” Paladin winked at his wife over Pippin’s shoulder. “Why, you’re going to be even better at it than I was at your age, I’m very sure.” Paladin put him down. “Now, go wash your hands and get Tulip and we’ll go in to supper. Hurry now, I’m as hungry as three grown hobbits tonight.”

“Ahem,” Paladin looked at his wife and grinned. “Is it really true we’re having chicken tonight, then?”

Thank you to Pearl Took for allowing me to borrow one of the Old Took's limericks, which appears only in part in this story.

A/N: This chapter will be continued in Dreamflower's "Shire Kitchen Recipe Challenge" next week!

Pippin allowed the door to slam shut behind him, shoving Tulip carelessly into his shirt and scattering chickens as he ran across the farmyard. The knitted piglet sputtered indignantly and Pippin paused to make amends for his incredibly poor manners. “Sorry,” he said as he scooped her back out and placed Tulip in her favoured perch on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to give you such a bumpy ride, m’lass. But you didn’t have to pinch me!” Tulip retorted that it had got his attention fast enough, hadn’t it? The youngster rolled his eyes in defeat. There was simply no winning whenever Tulip got it into her head that she was right and he wasn’t.

Pippin chuckled and Tulip insisted on knowing what he was laughing about? Pippin reached up to pat her snout. “You! How come you always have to be right?” Tulip sniffed and told him she couldn’t help it that she happened to be right more often than she was wrong. Pippin rolled his eyes again and didn’t argue. “Whatever you say. Anyway, I want to hurry and find out where Merry’s taking us. Isn’t it lovely to have a nice surprise to look forward to?”

Tulip had to admit he was right about that and she was enjoying his cousin’s visit as much as he. She tapped his shoulder with her soft hoof and he stopped again. Tulip whispered something in his ear and Pippin’s eyes widened. “What? I told you to go before we left!” Tulip drew her dignity about her like a cloak against foul weather, puffing her knitted self up into an indignant ball of pink felted wool. Her lower lip quivered, completing the imposing pout. Pippin knew better than to argue whenever she did that. He sighed and turned back the way they had come.

Tulip spoke into his ear again and Pippin stopped in his tracks. “No, I don’t have to go…what? Tulip, you’re going just a wee bit too far now, m’lass! What? Oh yes, there is such a thing as you going too far! I mean, really, just because you decided that you suddenly have to use the privy doesn’t mean I need to! I know I didn’t go before we left, but I didn’t have to…well, yes, I admit it’s a good idea but…” He plucked his little friend off his shoulder and held her at arm’s length. “You think I’m getting too big for my britches? What in thunder is that supposed to mean? You sound like Mum! I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

Tulip’s expression softened at her lad’s incredulous air. She chuckled indulgently and patted him on the nose, reminding him she was always on his side. Pippin placed her back on his shoulder and she nudged his ear, making him giggle, as he started trotting back. Tulip leaned down and whispered something again.

“What? You’ll let my impertinence go this time? I don’t even know what that means!” Tulip calmly informed him it meant he was being cheeky again, and then reminded him she still needed to go, and the matter was most urgent now so would he kindly hurry it up? Pippin wasn’t often speechless but at the moment he found himself in just that position. Shaking his head in disbelief he plodded back through the kitchen.

Eglantine spied her son as he came back in. “Why, I thought you and Merry had already left to go see your surprise?”

“Ahem…Tulip needs to use the privy before we leave.” He stood up on tiptoe gesturing to his mother to lean over. She did, and he whispered, “I told her to go before we left but she wouldn’t listen.”

Eglantine studied her small son’s sincere face before flicking her eyes over the knitted piggy. Clearing her throat, she nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Perhaps you’d best be doing the same then, eh?”

Pippin sighed dramatically, shuffling out of the room with a careless wave of his arm. “I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. I may as well, seeing as how I had to come back for Tulip’s sake anyway.”

Eglantine barely held her amusement in check until Pippin was out of earshot. She then shared a look with her eldest daughter and they both burst out laughing. “Oh, mercy, Pearl! What have I created by making that piglet for him?”

“Pip’s always had quite the imagination, but I believe it has reached a high point ever since Tulip came into our lives,” Pearl said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, my, he’s simply too comical, isn’t he Mum? But, I’m afraid I’m guilty of feeding into his pretense too. Just yesterday I made a wee apron for her.” Eglantine raised her eyebrow in question. “Pippin asked me to. He says Tulip is most anxious to show off her skills in the kitchen and cook dinner for us one evening!” Both of them broke down in helpless peels of laughter again.

“Well, perhaps she can bring it along on our trip to Hobbiton and enter the pie contest at the Faire,” Eglantine said. “I’m sure t’would be the very first time a knitted piglet entered the competition!”

The urgent call of nature had been answered and the pair was once more on their way out to the farmyard in search of Merry. Tulip spied him first and pointed a tiny hoof in his direction. Pippin got a huge grin on his face and trotted towards him, waving. His cousin was lounging against the fence, sharing a conversation with Tomias Hornblower, one of the young farmhands.

“Pippin, where have you been, I’ve been waiting here forever,” Merry scolded, the grin on his face contradicting the tone of his voice.

“So, where are we going? Can you tell me now?” Pippin bounced up and down on his toes and favoured his older cousin with his most engaging look, the one that usually won people over and got him his way. Merry however, was all too familiar with the expression and would not be swayed. He nudged the younger lad’s shoulder to get him moving.

Never being one to give up easily, he tried a new tactic. “Can’t you tell Tulip then?” Pippin thrust the knitted piglet in Merry’s face. “She won’t tell – promise!”

Merry grinned as they hurried along. “Why should I tell her? No, you both will have to wait.”

Pippin grumbled about the unfairness of older cousins keeping secrets from their younger cousins, but stopped pleading and skipped along happily. Tucking Tulip into his shirt, the little lad bounded ahead, then whirled to walk backwards as he chattered away. A small brown rabbit caught his eye and he bolted after it, pausing only long enough to snatch up his toy when Tulip tumbled out of his shirt with a squeal of dismay.

Merry watched him go, wondering if Pippin would always be so restless. He tried to picture an adult version of his young cousin and decided that it wasn’t likely he would ever calm down – not by much, at least. He smiled to himself. No, a stodgy, slow Pippin just didn’t seem plausible, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

“What are you laughing about, Merry?” Pippin had already raced back to hop at his side.

“I’m a bunny, Merry! And Tulip is just a wee bunny lass who got lost from her mama and now I have to help her find her way home, and then she’ll invite us in for tea and we can – oh, look!” Pippin pointed to their left and took off again.

“Pippin!” Merry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. Pippin had already made it to the big, gnarled thorn tree that grew amongst a field of buttercups and wild daisies.

“What’s taking you so long?” Pippin ran back and tugged on Merry’s sleeve. “Hurry up, I want to find out where we’re going!”

Merry rolled his eyes as he picked up his pace. They were nearing the water and he automatically became more vigilant of his charge’s whereabouts. Pippin ran up to the tree and pointed up into the lower branches, his impish face alight with a grin.

“It’s a baby bird,” he crowed. “Look, Merry! His mama is teaching him to fly!”

“It is! And there are three baby birds inside. See them sticking their wee beaks out? There’s a nest just like this one in the apple tree at home, you know, the one behind the big barn. Look,” Pippin waved his arm at the sky, “they’re flying, they did it!” Pippin was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Merry? Why can’t I fly too?”

Merry laughed aloud at the question. He recalled asking the same one a long time ago and now he gave Pippin the answer his own father had given to him. “I guess because if we could, then we’d never get anything else done because it looks like flying is so much fun, eh Pip?” The youngster considered Merry’s answer with all the seriousness of a ten year old who wasn’t quite certain if he was being teased. At last, Pippin shrugged and grabbed Merry by the hand.

“Aye!” The youth panted with the effort of trying to drag his older and larger cousin along.

Merry sincerely doubted that would ever happen, but decided to indulge Pippin’s wish for speed. “Ah. Well, neither do I. Race you to the crabapple tree!”

Pippin shrieked with delight as Merry tore ahead of him. He wasted no time in hurrying after him as fast as his shorter legs would go. Finally, they collapsed beneath the tree, quite out of breath, with Pippin falling on top of his cousin on purpose, enticing him to wrestle. Merry obliged, letting Pippin think he was winning for several moments, and then pinning him down and tickling him mercilessly.

“Eeek! Merrryyy! Stop, STOP!” Wild giggles filled the air as Pippin kicked and squirmed. “Stop it, I’m gonna pee my pants!”

“Oh!” Merry released him and sat back against the tree. “Don’t want that to happen, do we?”

Pippin didn’t answer. He was too busy lying back in the grass, clutching his sides and laughing.

Merry grinned at the person he spied coming towards them, three fishing poles perched across his shoulder, picnic basket swinging at his side. He waved their visitor forward with a gesture of impatience, then leaned over and whispered in Pippin’s ear. “I have a surprise for you, Pip!”

“What?” Pippin’s eyes were closed. “You’ve been teasing me all morning, so now I’m just going to lie here and have a nice dream.”

“Well, all right, if you’re really that tired.” Merry gave a snort of disapproval. “Lazy bones.”

“Peregrin Took! Sit up and say hello, lad!” Frodo dumped his burden on the ground and plopped down between the two.

“FRODO!” Pippin shouted and threw himself bodily around his cousin’s neck, holding on for dear life.

“Erk, Pippin, easy. I need to breath, you know!” Frodo laughed and peeled the youngster off him, holding Pippin out at arm’s length and inspecting him up and down. “I haven’t seen you in months and I do believe you’ve grown. Let me look at you.”

“When did you get here? How come I didn’t know you were coming?” Pippin practically tripped over his questions as they poured out of his mouth in a steady stream. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Oh! We are on our way somewhere but Merry won’t tell me where, but please come with us, Frodo, so we can - but were you going fishing? I know! We can all go fish--”

“This is where we were headed. Frodo is your surprise, Pip.” Merry laughed at Pippin’s astonishment.

Frodo nodded. “I am indeed. Bilbo and I arrived very late last night and I believe he is still sleeping.”

“Because your mother would have had our heads,” Frodo told him, one hand resting on Pippin’s slight shoulder. He plucked the stuffed toy from his little cousin’s shirt. “I see Tulip has accompanied you on today’s adventure.”

“What? Oh, sure, she goes everywhere with me.” He held the toy to his ear and then giggled. “Tulip says ‘of course’ she does. And she’s very happy you’ve brought along a picnic for us!” Pippin leaned forward and eagerly lifted the tea towel that covered the basket.

“Yes, your mother both packed it full of goodies for us. Wasn’t that thoughtful of her?” Frodo watched with amusement as Pippin rifled through the contents, plucking out an apple tart and popping it into his mouth with one hand, while plunging the other back inside for more. Frodo swatted his hand away. “Those are for afters.”

“Yes, Pip, keep your grubby little paws out of our food. You haven’t even washed your hands yet,” Merry pretended to be stern, and Pippin stuck his tongue out.

“You sound like Mum.” He thought for a moment before adding, ”and Tulip.”

“Merry’s right.” Frodo caught Pippin’s waving hands up in his own. “Look at how dirty they are. Come, let’s all go have a wash before we eat.”

“You’ll not get any argument from me.” Merry rose and tugged Pippin along. “It’s been two hours since first breakfast.”

After washing their hands at the riverbank, the threesome sat back to enjoy their picnic luncheon. Frodo spread the cloth on the grass and laid out the food, which amounted to a veritable feast. In addition to the apple tarts, there were cherry and strawberry-rhubarb ones. Thick sandwiches of leftover chicken from supper the night before were added to the makeshift tablecloth, along with wedges of cheese, slices of ham, and a container filled with sweet tea, plus some carrot sticks and a few apples to ‘fill up the corners.’ It looked like Eglantine had thought of everything.

The trio enjoyed their food and one another’s company for the next hour, gazing out at the slowly moving river and watching a small family of ducklings swimming after their mother near the riverbank. Tulip rested on the grass, occasionally reminding Pippin to share his sweets with her.

“That was wonderful,” Pippin sighed finally, slumping against Frodo’s side and releasing a loud belch.

“Excuse you!” Frodo chuckled and nudged the youngster in the ribs. “Where are your manners?”

“I think he left them back at the barn,” Merry said, stretching out on the grass to relax. “Let’s have a short nap before we go fishing.”

Frodo watched them with a fond smile and then settled in to do the same. “I did promise to bring back some fish for dinner, though.”

A few hours later they headed back, each of them carrying a string of catfish. Merry began humming a limerick under his breath and Frodo raised an eyebrow when he recognised it. “There once was a hobbit from Bree, whose mem…what?” Merry looked up innocently at the sharp poke in the ribs.

“I believe our cousin is a little young to hear that one just yet,” Frodo nodded at Pippin.

“What? No I’m not! Merry, tell me the rest! Everyone always says I’m too young!”

“Umm, never mind.” Merry choked back his laughter at Pippin’s indignation. “Frodo’s right. You are too young.”

Pippin sighed in disgust and bent to retrieve a stone to fling. “Tulip says you did that on purpose, Merry.”

“Hmph. That was nothing. How about this one? There once was a…oww!” Merry batted at Frodo after his older cousin’s light cuff to the back of his head.

“Yes you are,” Frodo nodded. “Particularly when you keep doing it after being told to stop.”

“Cousin Bilbo!” Pippin brightened when he spied the old hobbit standing outside the pony stable drawing on his pipe, and sprinted towards him.

“Ah, m’lad, how are you? My, how you’ve grown since our last visit.” Bilbo gathered the youth in his arms and squeezed as Pippin immediately started to babble about their morning. “Yes, yes indeed, it sounds like you all had a marvelous time.” Bilbo pointed over Pippin’s shoulder. “Now, you’d best get those fish inside, eh?” Pippin nodded vigourously.

“Come on Pip, we’ll do it together,” Frodo smiled down at the curly, disheveled head of curls. “Because we have another surprise to tell you about, don’t we Merry?”

“Another surprise? What? What is it?” Pippin jumped up and down causing his string of fish to swing back and forth. Frodo nodded at Merry to tell him.

“Everyone is coming, Pip,” Frodo said. “To attend the Faire. Your parents and sisters--”

“No, Pip, we can’t leave your sister behind,” Frodo told him as he opened the door.

“Not even just this once.” Frodo nudged the youngster through the door after Merry, with Pippin still chattering up a storm.

“I don’t know, Pip,” Frodo took Pippin’s string of fish from him as they entered the big kitchen.

“Huh?” Merry looked at his aunt for an explanation. “His knitted piggy has an apron now?”

“Ah, it’s a long story, lad.” Eglantine patted her nephew’s back. “Pippin will tell you all about it on the way to Hobbiton tomorrow.”

“Sit down Pippin,” Eglantine admonished her son for the third time since they’d started out. “Merry, you have my permission to sit on him if he gets up one more time.”

“I was only trying to show Tulip the sights. She’s never been on a ride to Hobbiton before and she told me she doesn’t want to miss anything.”

Pervinca yanked her brother back into his seat. “You don’t want to miss anything either,” she frowned, as only an older sister can when feeling she has permission to tell off a younger sibling.

Pippin made a face at her, then placed Tulip back inside his shirt and leaned over to check on Lily, who was resting in her basket at his feet. Seeing that the cat was asleep he looked around for something else to occupy his attention. They’d been on the road for what seemed like hours and he was growing restless. He wished Da would pull over soon so they could stretch their legs and have a bite to eat.

Bilbo and Frodo travelled in the carriage ahead of them with plenty of room to include Pearl and Pimpernel. Eglantine had a few misgivings about allowing her two youngest to ride in the back with out at least one of their sisters to keep an eye on them, but relented when her elder daughters had seemed so eager to join Bilbo and Frodo. She knew they didn’t often get such an opportunity.

Bored, Pippin started up his stream of chatter in Merry’s ear again, but his cousin was only half-listening. He had his nose buried in a book as well, so he only responded to Pippin’s attempts with an occasional grunt in the right places. His mother had her knitting out and it seemed the only person who wasn’t preoccupied was his father, but even he was talking. Pippin listened for a moment and grinned when he realised Da was holding a one-sided conversation with his mother, who seemed to be absorbed in her own activity. He decided things certainly could use a little livening up so he started another conversation with Tulip.

“We’re going to have a great deal of fun at Bag End, m’lass! There will be lots and lots of food just everywhere, and games to play and new folks to see and we’re going to have such fun at the Faire! What’s that?” Pippin held the toy up to his ear and listened, his smile widening. “Oh, aye! Absolutely! Why, I think that’s a splendid idea, you really should do just that. It’s a good thing you remembered your apron, but I thought maybe that’s what you had in mind when you asked me to pack it for you.” Pippin giggled into his hand. “Why, I wager you’ll be the very first piglet ever to enter the baking competition!”

Eglantine’s ears perked up at her son’s statement and she cast a sideways glance at her husband. Paladin was still lost in thought, obviously holding one of those odd conversations that she knew from experience he was certain included her. She shook her head in exasperation. What was she going to do with her lads? One of them was apparently intending to enter his stuffed piggy in a contest for baked goods, the other was certain he was receiving the answers he wanted to hear from his wife about a little outing he was planning, when she hadn’t even said a word. Eglantine wondered, and not for the first time, just what their little worlds were like when they were daydreaming like this?

“Yes, of course I’ll help you,” Pippin continued. “I think Cousin Bilbo would be delighted to turn his kitchen over to us for the day and, oh, I have just the recipe for you to try! It’s one I’ve been wanting Mum to make for me for ever so long but she says it’s not a good one, but I didn’t agree with her because I got it from a very old cookbook that belonged to Aunt Peony one time when we were at Great Smials but Mum only made it for us just that one time and it was ever so good so I don’t know why she won’t make it again…”

Eglantine’s ears twitched. How he manages to chatter on for so long without taking a breath is one thing I never will understand…and just what recipe is he going on about? I don’t recall any…oh. No. Not the plum tarts again! Eglantine almost laughed aloud, but managed to stifle her giggle behind a fake cough. Oh my, that one time I humoured him and made them against my better judgment, the lad ate far too many and then spent the entire rest of the visit in the privy. And he wants them again? No, prune plums baked into anything certainly did not agree with Pippin’s tummy and there was no way she was going to allow him, or Tulip for that matter, to make them!

“So that’s why I think it’s a very good plan and I’m pleased that you do too. It’ll give us lads plenty of time to get back before the Faire starts and I’m sure you and the lasses will want to have those two days to yourselves for baking anyway, so you won’t hardly even miss us. Och, I’m so happy you understand and you want me to go!”

Eglantine didn’t know who to respond to first; her son with the disastrous plan to have his knitted piglet bake plum tarts that would give him the runs, or to her husband’s equally unfortunate idea of gathering up his friends to go pub-hopping? Eglantine shook her head to clear it. Half turning in her seat, she shook a finger at Pippin. “NO PLUM TARTS!”

Swinging back around she jabbed a finger into her husband’s arm to get his undivided attention. “When exactly was it that I gave you my blessings for this night out with the lads while we’re visiting Bilbo, Paladin Took?”

“What?” Paladin looked startled and he loosened the reins, allowing the waggon to slow. “Why, Tina, I heard you! You told me you thought it was an excellent idea and that I deserved it…” his voice trailed off as he watched her frown deepen, and his cheeks flushed slightly. “You did, didn’t you? I’m certain I heard you agree with me heartily, just a few minutes ago…”

“No, Pad, I haven’t said a blessed word all the while you’ve been spouting off about this plan of yours. Mercy! You and your son have both been in your own little world for quite some time.”

Paladin tilted his head towards the back of the waggon. Pippin grinned toothily at him and waggled his piglet in the air. Pervinca snickered, and Merry looked up from his book, puzzled. Paladin scratched his head and then started the ponies moving again. “But, I could have sworn…well…we can at least talk about it, can’t we?”

“You’ve been talking enough for the two of us, and for quite some time! Anyway, I think we should wait until we get to Bag End to make any additional plans in order to include Bilbo in them.”

“Ah…yes. You’re quite right, m’dear. ‘Tis better that way. Then we can--”

Paladin was interrupted by his youngest daughter’s wail of protest and a loud thump that was probably her book being flung to the floor of the waggon.

“Don’t put me in the middle of your argument, you two! I told you I didn’t see a thing!” Merry scooted away from both of his cousins.

The obvious sound of a commotion followed and Paladin glanced at his wife. Her face was growing pinkish. That was never a good sign. “Children!” he barked without turning, “STOP your bickering right now!”

The back of the waggon fell dead silent and Paladin’s mouth twitched in a little smile. How well he remembered his own da’s bellow of warning in the same circumstances, accompanied by the threat to stop the waggon. He glanced at Eglantine again. She was smiling so he gave her a wink and hurried the ponies along. They travelled in peaceful quiet for a short while before he detected the slight warning sound: the low, muttering voices of unhappy children and the shuffling of their feet. Paladin knew another scuffle was in the making. He opened his mouth, but his wife was already turning in her seat. Before either one could utter a word they heard a plaintive plea.

“Ah, that really hit the spot. Thank you my dear,” Bilbo leaned over and gave Eglantine a peck on the cheek. Frodo was already helping Pearl and Nell gather up the dishes from their luncheon as everyone prepared to get back on the road.

“We’ll be arriving in the village before much longer,” Bilbo said as he slowly rose to his feet.

“Aye, and not a moment too soon for my liking,” Paladin muttered, eyeing his youngest children. “I think Pervinca had best trade places with either Pearl or Nell in your waggon.”

Bilbo nodded. “Certainly. That sounds like a wise plan. Come children, let’s get moving. I’d like to be home before nightfall.”

Pimpernel readily changed places with her younger sister and they set off again. The trip was quiet for several miles before a widely yawning young hobbit looked up at his parents and asked, “Are we there yet?”

Eglantine chuckled, leaning over to her husband and whispering, “I told you not to let him drink so much tea.”

Pippin and Tulip want to enter the Hobbiton Faire Baking Competition with a very special recipe he found in an old cookbook at Great Smials, so he enlists Merry's help. However, Bilbo unwittingly forces Pippin to make a temporary change in plans...

Whatever was he going to do with a ten year old for an entire day? Not any ten year old either, Bilbo reminded himself, but one with boundless energy, insatiable curiosity, and a knitted piglet in tow the lad quite believed was real. The old hobbit shook his head. Just how did I get myself into this? You know perfectly well how you did, Bilbo Baggins! You are far too kind hearted and you wanted to do something nice and offer the lad’s weary mother a day off during the family’s visit.

All right, so I’ve made my bed. Now all I need is a bit of help to lie in it. He grinned slyly at the thought. Ah, yes. Well, Merry adored his younger cousin. Surely he would be of some help? And Frodo too. Yes, that was surely the answer. Bilbo rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he went into the kitchen to prepare the first breakfast of the day for his guests and lay his plans.

There was plenty to do to get ready to attend the Hobbiton Faire. After all, it was only two short days away and he wanted to prepare dishes to enter at least five of the competitions. Let’s see. Bilbo rubbed his chin in thought as he inspected the pantry with a critical eye. He was certain he had the items he needed to at least begin all of his baking. However, there was no doubt at all he would need to go to the market for several important items. No matter. The lads could certainly help him out with minding Pippin. Or, if need be, he could always take him along. No…Bilbo pictured the youngster inside Miss Petunia’s specialty shop and cringed ever so slightly. He recalled the last time he’d taken the lad along shopping and the amount of money and apologies it had cost to make amends for Pippin’s rambunctious nature. Better to leave him home in the care of his elder cousin. Frodo would see to it that everything went well. Yes, that was the perfect solution.

“Cousin Bilbo!” A small fury of activity roared into the kitchen like a storm front after a humid day. Pippin careened into the old hobbit, attaching himself firmly to Bilbo’s knees. Pippin held on for dear life, clutching his knitted piglet in one hand as firmly as he clung to his elderly cousin’s legs. His golden brown curls were in need of a good brushing, and he’d obviously been outside in the garden because his hands were dirt smeared and grimy.

Bilbo sighed, and then reached down to disentangle the youngster from his legs and plunk him firmly on a kitchen chair. “Well, hullo there, young hobbit! And just what have you been up to so early on such a fine morning?”

Pippin drew a deep breath and began chattering away fully intending to fill Bilbo in on everything he’d done since opening his eyes that morning. Bilbo listened with half of his attention, chuckling as he resumed the breakfast preparations.

“Then I petted Lily because she was sitting on the corner of my bed and she was purring…did you know that kitties can do that, Cousin Bilbo?” Without waiting for an answer Pippin continued, “and then I had to go to the privy and so Lily followed me!” He paused to giggle into his hand before continuing. “I’m so happy I was allowed to bring her along. I wish I could have brought Dizzy too, but Da said no, because Dizzy is still too young to travel so far in the carriage, because he might get sick all over me like he did when--”

“Pippin! I really don’t need to hear about that part, all right, m’lad?” Bilbo chuckled again, shaking his head as he flipped the griddlecakes on the stove. The inviting scent had already awakened most of the family and soon Merry, and then Eglantine, entered the kitchen rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Pippin waggled his piglet at them and scolded, “Tulip says you’re late for first breakfast! And she’s very hungry so you better hurry up.”

Eglantine raised an eyebrow at her rambunctious son, catching hold of one of his hands as he flailed Tulip about. “You need to go have a wash before you even think of having breakfast, m’lad.” She hoisted him down and turned him in the direction of the bathroom. “March!”

“All right,” Pippin agreed readily and scooted off. He ran headlong into Frodo, who was just coming out of his room.

“Watch out, Pip,” Frodo laughed, leaping aside at the same time Pippin maneuvered smartly around him and shot away. Pippin moved like a streak of lightning, one hand waving over his shoulder.

Paladin emerged from one of the guestrooms as his son streaked by, and bent to scoop up the knitted piglet Pippin had dropped. He placed it on his shoulder in the same manner that Pippin always did, causing Frodo to grin at him. Paladin winked and continued on to the kitchen without a word.

Eglantine shook her head when she spied him. “What’s the matter, m’dear? Did you forget to bring Sammie-Lambie?”

‘Hmph, very funny.” Paladin plunked the toy down on Merry’s shoulder as he passed him.

“Well then, what are you doing with Tulip, Da?” Pimpernel was up now, her younger sister on her heels. Vinca rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, settling into the nearest chair.

“Bilbo, let me help with that.” Eglantine neatly removed the spatula from his hand as she passed him. “Where’s Pearl?” She addressed her daughters as she slipped between them in the now crowded kitchen and busied herself at the stove.

“She went out for a walk earlier,” Nell said. “She said she wanted to enjoy the morning air and have a little peace and quiet before--”

“Nellllyyyy!” Pippin’s shout and subsequent leap into the midst of his family was punctuated by a yelp as the youngster stomped on Bilbo’s toes as he launched himself at his sister.

“Easy, Pip.” Paladin caught him neatly in practiced arms before the airborne lad collided with Pimpernel, and settled him on his hip. “Aren’t you missing something?”

Pippin scrunched up his face in thought, then brightened. “Tulip!” He cried, pointing at Merry.

The shriek next to his ear caused Paladin to wince. He set Pippin on his feet with a grimace. “Aye, why don’t you go get your toy?”

“She’s not a toy, Da,” Pippin informed his father as he scampered away. “Is she, Merry?”

“Of course not, how could anyone think she is?” Merry chuckled and plopped Tulip into Pippin’s arms.

“Breakfast is served,” Eglantine announced just as the door opened and Pearl joined them.

“Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Bilbo?” Eglantine asked for what Bilbo was certain had to be the tenth time that morning. “He can be quite the handful, you know.”

“Tina, I’m sure there isn’t a single person in the whole of the Shire who doesn’t know that,” Paladin snorted. He laid a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “That said, I’ll second my wife’s question – are you certain you want to watch Pippin for an entire afternoon and evening?”

“Oh mercy, you two sound like I’m offering to play nursemaid to Oddie the bull!” Bilbo waved dismissively. “You all go on just like we planned, and have a grand time visiting the Boffin’s, while we entertain the lad. Isn’t that right, Frodo? Merry?”

Merry and Frodo traded glances. Merry rolled his eyes as Frodo replied, “Of course. We haven’t seen much of Pippin in quite awhile and we’re delighted to keep an eye on him for you today.” He poked Merry in the ribs with his elbow a little harder than was necessary after his cousin looked like he might protest. “Aren’t we, Merry?”

“Uh, certainly. Aunt Tina, Uncle Pad, you go right ahead and have a good time while Frodo and I just stay here and…watch our cousin.”

Paladin regarded the pair with a smirk of amusement playing around the corners of his mouth. Finally he gestured to his daughters to hurry up and get ready and turned to his wife with a shrug. “Since they really want to do this, Tina, let’s get going.”

“Oh for pity’s sake – go, go! We’ll be fine. How much trouble can it be to look after one small lad for the day?” Bilbo shooed them away with a flap of the tea towel he still held after finishing the washing up. “We have plenty of baking to do for the Faire, so I’m sure we’ll keep ourselves well occupied. Won’t we lads?” Bilbo looked at Frodo and Merry with a slight raise of his eyebrow and a hearty wink. Two curly heads, one dark and one light, bobbed in unison. “There! You see?” The old hobbit made shooing motions again.

Paladin chuckled as he crossed to the door, muttering something about ‘famous last words.’ He eyed his small son sternly. Pippin beamed at him with his usual innocent look and Paladin couldn’t help grinning back at him. Little imp. That charming smile helped the youngster get away with a great deal more than he should at times. He ruffled Pippin’s hair. “Behave yourself.”

“I will, Da.” Pippin patted Tulip, who at the moment rested inside his half unbuttoned shirt. “So will Tulip!”

“See that she does,” Paladin chuckled and gestured at his wife and daughters impatiently.

Eglantine continued to fret even as she went out the door. “And remember, you may not make any plum tarts, young sir!”

Pippin shook his head from side to side, making his curls fly. “No, Tulip decided on another recipe she wants to make, and she’s very eager to get started.” Pippin’s expression took on an air of mystery and Eglantine hesitated. She knew that look all too well.

“I don’t even have any plums in the hole, Tina,” Bilbo snorted. “Now off with you! We’ll be fine!” Bilbo had no idea how much he’d regret his generosity before the day was out.

The family headed out, with Eglantine taking one last long look over her shoulder and mouthing a firm ‘be good’ to Pippin, just before Paladin tugged on her arm and pulled the door shut.

“All right!” Bilbo clapped his hands together and looked his charges over enthusiastically. All the trappings necessary to create many fine baked goods for the competition surrounded them. “What would you like to make first?”

Bilbo tilted his head at Frodo. “Are you planning to enter this year, m’lad? That potato bread you made last time certainly was popular.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Frodo began uncertainly, and was interrupted by a tug on his sleeve. Pippin stared up at him, his eyes huge with beseeching.

“Please Frodo? You have to enter the contest with Tulip and me! Merry too!” Pippin continued tugging on Frodo’s sleeve until his cousin relented.

“Yay! Merry too!” The youngster bounced up and down on his toes, obviously pleased to be getting his way so readily. “What are you going to make Merry?”

“Uhh, well I don’t think I’m going to make anything, Pip. I’ll just watch you and Frodo and Cousin Bilbo.”

“Oh no, we’re not going to have all the fun, Merry m’lad,” Bilbo shook his head. “You’re in on this too.”

“We insist,” Frodo said with an air of finality. “After all, why should Bilbo and I be the only other family members to compete with our little cousin?”

“But I’m not good at baking! I’m only good at eating,” Merry continued his protest.

“Then it’s high time you learned to be better at it. You’re a hobbit, aren’t you?” Bilbo countered.

Pippin had been pulling on Merry’s sleeve ever more insistently until his cousin finally looked at him with a defeated sigh. “What is it, Pip?”

Pippin motioned for him to lean down and then stood on his tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. Merry’s eyes widened and his mouth turned up at the corners into a knowing smirk. Pippin placed Tulip up to Merry’s ear next and it appeared the trio was having a meaningful exchange. Pippin dropped back to his feet and stared up at his cousin with one eyebrow quirked in question.

“All right,” Merry replied slowly, the smirk widening. “I suppose I should learn to be better at cooking.” He laughed aloud.

Frodo and Bilbo traded puzzled looks, while Pippin grinned. The smallest hobbit tucked his knitted friend under one of his braces and folded his arms across his chest. Bilbo thought he looked for the entire world like he was sizing them all up and wondered just what the impish youngster had up his sleeve this time?

“Bossy little thing, isn’t he?” Merry chuckled and ruffled Pippin’s hair.

“What was that all about?” Frodo asked Merry quietly, the first chance he had as they set about their work.

“All right, let’s get these in the oven and then we can have a break for luncheon.” Bilbo bent and slid another pan of muffins into the oven before turning back to the soup he had bubbling on top of the stove.

“That’s good, since we had to miss elevenses,” Pippin reminded him, sounding only slightly accusatory. He climbed onto a chair, clutching Tulip and sniffed appreciatively at the steaming blueberry muffins Frodo had just removed from the oven. Slowly, he snaked out a single finger, just far enough to tell for certain that they were still too hot to eat…

“Don’t touch!” Frodo warned the youngster, and Pippin shot him a look that said he didn’t need to be told something so obvious.

“I wasn’t going to! D’ya think I’m daft?” Pippin rolled his eyes. “Even Tulip knows I’m smarter than that.” He paused, eyes widening as he appeared to listen to the piglet. “Yes, you do! You told me just that just a little while ago!” He paused again and then added, “Oh. I’m very glad you were only jesting with me.” Pippin spied his special cup high on the shelf and stood up on his toes to reach across the hot pans. He yelped when his stomach brushed against one of the muffin tins. Frodo snatched him up as he jumped backwards in surprise, almost falling off the chair.

“You’re not daft, Pip. But you certainly don’t take time to stop and think about consequences.” Frodo placed him on his feet and knelt in front of him. “Let me look at your belly.” He lifted up the shirt, noticing that it wasn’t damaged and sighed in relief to find just the slightest small spot of redness on Pippin’s midsection. Rising to his feet he held out a hand. “Let’s go put a cold cloth on that, just to be sure. And stay down from there.”

“Now, all we need is the cinnamon and sugar to sprinkle on the top. Why don’tyou and Merry get that ready for me, hmm?” Bilbo chuckled to himself as he removed the sour cream crumb cake from the oven. The day was going much more smoothly than he had anticipated after all. “Pippin, you still haven’t told me what you and Tulip want to make for the contest. We’ll be ready to make yours next.”

“But it’s a surprise! I can’t tell you because I have an old recipe that no one has made in a long time. I found it in one of the old cookbooks at great Smials last Yule--”

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell me what it is because I’m certainly not going to leave you alone in the kitchen,” Bilbo said.

“But…but Tulip can help me. Then no one else will know what I’m making.”

Bilbo’s flat reply and the use of his full name caused Pippin to scowl. He scuffed his toes across the floor, thinking hard. He wanted it to be a surprise. And, Merry wanted it to be one too. Merry understood. Maybe he could talk Bilbo into leaving the two of them alone together? His eyes implored Merry to get the hint, but his cousin gave a slight warning shake of his head.

Pippin sighed. All right, he’d have to settle for a slight, temporary change in their plans, then. “Tulip wants to make Mum’s applesauce cake,” he declared, with a sideways glance at Merry who pretended not to see it.

“Oh, splendid! That’s a lovely recipe.” Bilbo nodded his approval. “Why, I imagine you make even win first place with it. Come, m’ boy!”

Pippin was busy tying the apron on Tulip. He helped mix the flour in a large bowl with Bilbo overseeing. His enthusiastic stirring caused him to flip the entire contents of the bowl on the floor. “Oops. I’m very sorry, Bilbo.”

Bilbo heaved a sigh and set about cleaning up the flour and broken glass while Frodo took out a new bowl and helped Pippin start over. Frodo was growing very weary of the kitchen by now. It was beginning to seem like the day would never end. Pippin was talking to his toy again.

“That’s right, you just mix it up like this, m’lass.” He demonstrated stirring the batter a little too enthusiastically with both hands and a great cloud of flour flew up in his face and then rained down on them. A startled Tulip burst out in a series of huge sneezes and demanded someone get her a handkerchief right away! Pippin giggled as he wiped her off, smearing the flour everywhere. Behind him, Frodo was rolling his eyes and trying to renew his patience, while Merry measured the applesauce into another bowl.

“We’ll need to make a sugar glaze for the cake afterward. It needs to be poured over it while the cake is still warm,” Bilbo told them. “And you can decorate it with walnuts.”

“Mmmm, it’s going to be very yummy, isn’t it Tulip?” Pippin reached for a jar and was scooping its contents into a measuring cup when Frodo laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Oh! You’re right, thanks.” Pippin resumed his work, humming a tune and keeping up a steady stream of chatter.

At last the cake was in the pan and Bilbo shoved it into the oven, then stood and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Whew, it has been a long day, eh lads? But we did get a great deal accomplished.” He patted Pippin on the head as he crossed to the sink. “Your parents are going to be very pleased.”

“If I never see another cracked egg or broken dish, it’ll be too soon,” moaned Frodo as he finished cleaning up in the kitchen. Supper simmered on the stove and Pippin was playing outside in the garden. Things seemed to have calmed down at last.

“What time do you think Aunt Tina and Uncle Pad will be back?” Merry was heading out the back door to find Pippin and tell him supper was ready.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” Bilbo set the table and put Frodo to work serving up the stew and biscuits.

“Well, it looks like Bag End is still intact,” Paladin observed as he led the way up the path. “All of those worries for nothing, Tina. I told you so.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Pad. We haven’t even got inside yet. There’s no telling what your son has been up to all day, and if poor Bilbo has survived it.”

Paladin chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure Bilbo and the other lads are just fine.” He held the door open for his weary lasses.

“Shh!” The old hobbit emerged from his study with a finger to his lips. “We’ve had a very busy day and everyone is already in bed. How was your visit?”

“Yes indeed, and I am also more than ready to call it a day,” Pearl said with a yawn.

“Good night!” Bilbo called, turning back to Paladin and Eglantine. “Not to worry, everything went fine. Your son made his very first applesauce cake with the help of his piglet friend and his cousins, and now he is safely tucked in with Merry at his side.”

“Thank goodness,” Eglantine breathed easy for the first time in hours. “And thank you so much for giving me a day out, Bilbo.”

“I was happy to, my dear.” He winked at Paladin. “Contrary to rumour, your lad is not all that difficult to keep an eye on.” Bilbo laughed, “But of course it was nice to have help! Frodo and Merry did a magnificent job.”

“Let’s all retire for the night then, shall we?” Eglantine was already heading to Pippin’s room to peek in on him.

“Oh, a broken bowl and some spilled flour, not much more than that, Pad. Go on now and get some rest yourself. There’s plenty to do tomorrow too, you know.”

Merry and Pippin lay whispering together and hushed when they saw the crack of light as the door swung inward. Both pretended to be asleep. They went back to their whispering as soon as Eglantine withdrew and clicked the door shut. Pippin giggled and Merry hurried to shush him.

Yes indeed, plenty to do before the Faire started. Two curly heads and a knitted piglet went back to laying out their plans…

Sift together dry ingredients. Add raisins, walnuts, melted butter, and applesauce. Beat until well blended. Pour into greased and floured 9x9x2 inch pan. Bake at 350 degrees, 45 – 50 minutes. Cool, then spread with confectioner’s sugar butter icing and decorate with walnuts.

A/N: For Golden, whose bunny inspired this tale. I know this isn't exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

And for Dreamflower, whose love of the bathtime song inspired me to love it too - I hope you enjoy this!

“Sing hey! For the bath at close of day, that washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing: O! Water hot is a noble thing!”

Pearl chuckled as she listened to her little brother sing at the top of his lungs while splashing around in the tub. She folded towels and placed them in the cupboard outside the bathroom, pausing with an ear to the door for a moment. Her smile grew when she heard Pippin chattering away to his knitted piglet before starting the song again. Pearl rattled the doorknob to get his attention.

Pearl waited, enjoying the sound of her brother’s clear voice as he went through the entire song one more time.

“O! Water is fair that leaps on high in a fountain white beneath the sky; but never did fountain sound so sweet as splashing Hot Water at my feet!”

Pearl could hear water sloshing onto the floor with Pippin’s grand finale chorus. No doubt he was imitating said fountain as he usually did every time he had a bath, and she cracked the door open to have a look. The action was met with a shriek of dismay. Pearl glimpsed a pair of sopping wet, rosy cheeks as Pippin dove back into the bath.

“We?” Pearl wrinkled her brow and then laughed. “Oh, you and Tulip, you mean?”

“Yes, and you needn’t be peeking in at us when we’re both in our birthday suits.”

Pearl snickered at her little brother’s indignation. “Well, Tulip is a lass, so what’s wrong with me seeing your bum too?”

The voice behind the door summoned up a tone of stiff dignity as he addressed his undoubtedly daft sister. “I made Tulip turn her back, of course!”

“Ah, I see. But you still need to be getting out now m’lad, else your skin is going to wrinkle up like a prune.” There was another sound of splashing water and then a pair of feet thumped to the floor.

“Pearl!” Pippin howled, “There’s no towel in here! I thought you left me one?”

“Just a minute, I’ve been folding them.” She held one out to him, rolling her eyes at the sound of a mad scramble as Pippin grabbed for it, then fell against the door to push it shut.

“Peregrin Took! You nearly caught my fingers in the door jamb with that little antic.”

A small, contrite voice spoke through the keyhole, “I’m very sorry. I only wanted some privacy.”

Pearl stared at the closed door in amazement. She couldn’t ever remember Pippin saying such a thing before. Her brother was always as comfortable with his state of undress as he was with having company in the bathtub. She scratched her head, puzzled, and decided he must be going through another one of his quirky phases. “All right. I won’t come in but you do need to dry off and get into your nightshirt before you catch a chill.”

“I will!” The voice sounded annoyed this time and Pearl rolled her eyes before resuming her task. A few moments later, the door opened again and a towel-clad form streaked down the hallway towards his room, Tulip tucked underneath one arm and wrapped in her own semblance of a bath towel. The door to Pippin’s room slammed shut with a ring of defiance.

“What?” The voice was muffled and Pearl guessed Pippin likely had the towel wrapped around his head while he tried to dry his thick hair.

“What is it?” Pippin’s voice was clearer now and Pearl pictured him standing there puzzled, head tilted to one side, mulling over her question while he continued to drip all over his bedroom floor.

“You remembered a towel for Tulip…” Pearl’s voice trailed off and she tried not to laugh.

“But not for yourself?” Pearl lost her battle and gave in to a fit of giggles. Her laughter only increased when the door opened and one green eye peered at her through the crack.

“I don’t understand what’s so funny. She had to have something to cover up with after her bath. I was only thinking of her comfort.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll let you get dressed then. Both of you.” As she turned away the door opened wider. Pearl saw her little brother standing in the doorway wrapped in his towel, wet footprints surrounding him, hair dripping, and clutching a wet knitted piglet under one arm.

“Ah. Well, she’ll dry out, just like you!” She paused with hand extended to pat his head when she noticed tears rolling down his cheeks. She knelt down in front of him. “What is it? Why, whatever is wrong?” Pearl was somewhat taken aback when Pippin threw himself into her arms. “Shh, now. Tell Pearl what’s wrong, hmm?”

“What are you talking about?” Pearl peeled him away from her damp bodice and looked him up and down.

“Mum scolded me yesterday when I dipped her in the tub and told me not to put her in the hot water because…because she’d shrink. Maybe even all the way until she disappeared completely, if I’m not careful!” Pippin gave a great gulping sob on the last word and Pearl gathered him in her arms again.

“Oh my. Pippin, listen to me. Mum meant that hot water shrinks wool, and that’s what Tulip is made out of. Isn’t that right?” Pippin bobbed his head up and down firmly, and Pearl reached out with the back of her hand to wipe some of his tears away. “She didn’t mean that Tulip will disappear, only that putting her in hot water isn’t good for her. That’s all.”

“Really?’” Pippin gave a dramatic sniff and rubbed the corner of the towel over his reddening nose. He patted Tulip’s face with it after his own tears were dry.

“Yes, really!” Pearl stood and tapped him on the tip of his sharp nose. “It wouldn’t do to have her stay in the water, but a wee dip won’t hurt her, I’m sure.”

Pearl turned him back to his room. “Go on now and get dried off and into your nightshirt. Then come to the kitchen, all right? I have a surprise for you.”

Pippin brightened immediately. “For Tulip too?” He grinned up at his beloved sister. “Did you make something for her again?”

“You’ll just have to wait until you’re dressed, young sir! Now hurry up before you catch a real chill.”

Pippin scrambled back into his room and clicked the door shut. Pearl smiled when she heard him start chattering away to his toy. Shaking her head, she headed towards the kitchen where she found her mother making a pot of bedtime tea. “Mum, Pippin is all astir because he dropped Tulip into his bath again.”

Eglantine frowned. “I told him to be more careful before he does something I can’t repair.”

“He’s under the impression she will shrink up until she finally disappears.”

“Oh, mercy! That lad.” Eglantine shook her head fondly and hurried back to the stove where the kettle now sang out a merry tune of steam. She moved it to the table and fussed with setting out the cups. Pearl settled onto one of the chairs and picked up her sewing basket, setting it on the table next to her. She rummaged in its depths, at last pulling out a rose-coloured item that she set aside before reaching into the basket again.

Eglantine watched with interest, a smile beginning to turn up the corners of her mouth. “Are you spoiling him again?”

Pearl grinned and gave a sheepish half-shrug. “It’s easy enough to do, I suppose.” Just then Pippin tumbled into the kitchen, the sodden piglet on his shoulder, and Pimpernel and Pervinca at his heels.

“What’s that?” Pippin plopped down next to his eldest sister and beamed at her, eagerly reaching for the item in Pearl’s hand.

Pimpernel slid into the chair next to him and laughed. “Yes, whatever have you created for Tulip this time?”

Pearl held up a tiny, pink flannel and a matching square that was slightly larger and obviously meant to represent a towel. Each had a finely stitched pink and yellow tulip on one corner. Pippin squealed with delight and flung himself onto his sister’s lap. “Easy, Pip!” Pearl laughed, catching hold of him.

Pippin waggled his toy at her. “Look what Pearl made for you, lass! Your very own bath time things!” He threw his arms around Pearl’s neck and squeezed her hard. She laughed and eased him back onto his feet.

Pearl withdrew a little dressing gown and nightshirt and blushed when her sisters chuckled. Eglantine laughed heartily. “Why, it’s perfect! A wee bedtime ensemble for Tulip.” She took the items from her daughter and inspected them. “Oh my, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my love. Your work is exquisite!” She held up the pink gown for Pimpernel to see. “Look, at this, m’ lasses!”

“Oh, it’s lovely, truly. Why, you’ve embroidered tiny pink and yellow tulips all around the lace collar!” Pimpernel nodded, her admiration apparent.

Pippin was tapping on both sisters’ elbows as he stood on tiptoe to see over their arms. “Let me look! It is for Tulip, after all!” Pippin’s eyes lit up with delight when Nell handed the dressing gown to him. “Look Tulip! It’s all your very own!” He held the piglet to his ear and his grinned widened. “She loves it Pearl! And she says to say thank you very much!”

“Let’s try it on her.” Nell scooped her brother up and sat him on the table. The tea was forgotten as they set about dressing the knitted piglet in her finery.

“Ah, well now it looks like she’s all ready for bed,” Eglantine said at last when they were done and her beaming son held up his prized possession. She set him on his feet and steered him towards his room. “Come, my little one. It’s time for all young ones to be asleep.” Pippin obligingly took his mother’s hand but stopped, as they were about to pass through the door. “Thank you so much, Pearl! We love everything!” He trotted back and gave his sister a huge hug. “And we love you!”

Pearl kissed him on top of his still damp curls. “I love you too, you little scamp.”

“What about me?” Pimpernel held out both arms and Pippin happily scooted into them to collect anther hug and kiss. “Off with Mum you go now,” she laughed and nudged him. Pervinca stuck her tongue out and Pippin sniffed indignantly. He caught his mother’s hand and trotted off.

After hobbit lad and knitted piglet were tucked safely in bed, Eglantine sat beside him, brushing his hair away from his eyes. “Pearl told me you thought that Tulip was going to shrink away, m’lad. That’s not going to happen.”

“It isn’t?” Pippin stared up at his mother with a trusting smile, and then yawned.

“No, it isn’t. But you still have to take good care of her and keep her out of your bath next time.” Eglantine rested the soggy piglet on a dry towel and placed her next to him. “We could put her by the fireplace so she’ll dry faster.”

“All right, dear.” Eglantine rose after kissing the top of his head. She planted a kiss on the tip of her finger and placed it gently against Tulip’s snout. “Good night to you both. Sleep well, my little love.”

“When he was alone at last Pippin cuddled the wet toy to his chin. “I’m very sorry I dropped you into the tub, lass.” Tulip replied that it had been a close call, but she was fine. And by the way, she adored her new belongings.

“I’m glad. Pearl is very nice to make such wonderful things for you, isn’t she?” Tulip heartily agreed.

Before long both were drifting in peaceful slumber as the soft night folded its arms around them. Pippin began to dream. He was walking down a long tunnel at Brandy Hall, trying to escape his teasing cousins. But, something was wrong. Where was Tulip? Where had she gone? He felt of his shoulder but it was bare of its constant companion. Pippin meandered through the tunnels until he was certain he would collapse in exhaustion. Just as he was about to slump down against the wall in sheer despair he heard a tiny, high-pitched voice calling out his name from somewhere far away. He paused, straining his ears to listen. The sound came again and he knew it was Tulip.

“I’m coming lass! Where are you?” Pippin peered into the darkness ahead of him and felt a prickling of fear. Tulip called again and he didn’t hesitate. He took off running full tilt down the long corridor, calling her name.

Pippin! Come and get me before I disappear or you will never see me again and it will be all your fault!

“What? No! Tulip? Where are you?” Pippin scanned the area desperately. “Oww!” A sharp pinch from a tiny cloven hoof got his attention quickly. He stared down at the floor and there was Tulip, standing upright on her hind hooves. Her frilly new nightgown was still damp from her bath, and she regarded him with displeasure. Her front hooves were perched haughtily on both plump hips, and she looked him up and down speaking in her miniature, scolding voice. Pippin had to lean closer to hear what she said. Tulip pointed at him with one front foot and shook her head while she geared up for a proper telling off.

If you hadn’t made me turn my back I never would have fallen into your bath! Mercy, m’lad, it’s not like I haven’t seen your wee bare bottom before! What in Middle-earth has got into you lately? Why, you were never the shy one. And now look at me! For all your silliness I’ve shrunk, and now I just may disappear entirely!

“But, but…Mum said you wouldn’t! She said just a wee dip wouldn’t hurt you, and so did Pearl. Please Tulip, don’t disappear!”

Then you need to get me dry, and I don’t mean maybe! Well? Pick me up, lad! And do hurry. I’m about to freeze my tail off here! And I’m getting smaller by the minute so you’d best get a move on.

Pippin scooped her up and started back to his room at a dead run. “Don’t shrink any more – please! I don’t want to lose you and I’m very sorry I made you turn your back and you fell into the tub. Please forgive me!”

Ahhh, hurry faster Pippin! I’m shrinking, I can feel it! I’m shrinking more! Help me!

Pippin’s squeal of dismay matched Tulip’s and he moved faster than he ever had before, but felt like he was running through butter. The faster he went, the more he fell behind, until…

Pippin jerked awake with a start and catapulted out of bed, looking about the room wildly until his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he realised he had been dreaming. Heart pounding, he perched on the side of the bed and cuddled Tulip to him, rocking back and forth in relief. “Oh…don’t ever go away and leave me Tulip. I couldn’t bear it.” Tears flowed again and Pippin looked up startled. Tulip was patting his cheek with her little hoof. Don’t cry, Pippin. I won’t ever leave you, I promise. We will always be together.

It was only a dream. Let’s go lay next to the fireplace and go to sleep, shall we? I’ll dry out better that way and we’ll both be warm and comfortable.

“All right.” Pippin opened the door and padded on quiet feet to the front parlour, then settled down with his friend on the rug in front of the fireplace. Tulip continued soothing him, patting his cheek with her soft hoof as Pippin drifted off to sleep once more. Then the knitted piglet crawled into the collar of his nightshirt and settled contentedly beneath his curls. When he emitted gentle snores at last, Tulip made another promise. I will be with you on your great journey as well, m’ lad. The perilous quest you know nothing of as yet, and rightly so. Rest easy, my wee one. I will always look after you. I promised your mother, and she is part of me now. ‘Tis her breath of life, her love, that follows you in me. And I am honoured to have this part to play in your life.

Soon, the knitted piglet added her own knitted snores to those of her lad, and the Took family rested peacefully in the old farmhouse, safe and without care. Without the knowledge of the hardship that was coming their way one day not so far in the future. Without the awareness of the impending grief that would try all their spirits sorely, without the solace that their youngest would indeed return safely, but no longer a youth in his heart, nor by experience, though still one in years.

Rest easy. I didn’t disappear, and you will not either. Tulip patted Pippin’s nose in her sleep and her hobbit lad grinned in his dreams.

“The only thing that really worries me about this is how will we explain it to Mum?” Pippin pursed his lips into a thoughtful pout as he held Tulip at arm’s length and confided in her. The pout deepened. “I know I have to explain it, not you! And I’m not trying to come up with a way out of it.” Pippin settled back on his heels and considered his dilemma. “At least, I don’t think I am.” He winced at Tulip’ s haughty tone of voice as she scolded him for getting them both into yet another fine mess.

“Anyway, you won’t be the one getting grounded. Well, I suppose you will, in a way -- yes! I know that whatever I do affects you too! Just help me sort out this mess, will you?” Pippin shook his head, disgusted with himself for his shortsightedness. “And, it’d be nice if I didn’t wind up getting the seat of my britches warmed, too.” Pippin listened intently and then sniffed. “What do you mean, I probably deserve it? I thought you were going to stick up for me?”

“Come on, Pip!” Pervinca waved impatiently at him as she hurried after Pearl. ”He’s talking to his piggy again,” she giggled tossing a knowing look at Pimpernel.

“Coming!” Pippin scrambled to his feet and ran after his sisters. His mother came hurrying out the door and looked around, spying him quickly.

“Oh, there you are.” Eglantine gestured for her youngest to come to her and gave him a quick once over. “Good. Your hair is still neat and you didn’t get any dirt on yourself yet. Let’s go then.” She steered him towards the waggon.

Pippin could see that his father was already seated on the driving bench awaiting them. Paladin hopped down and hoisted Pippin up to sit beside him, then scrambled back into his seat. “I see you have Tulip all settled in for the ride,” he remarked with a twinkle in his eye. Pippin answered with an enthusiastic nod. “Is everyone ready?” Paladin called over his shoulder.

“Yes, dear, we’re all settled in back here,” Eglantine replied. “Pippin, you be careful up there. Don’t squirm around so much, and mind your da.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pippin said with a firm shake of his head, and a wink at Tulip. The knitted piglet sighed and crawled inside of her lad’s shirt to take a nap. Riding in the waggon always made her sleepy. And trying to help figure out a way to get her lad out of trouble was always dreadfully bothersome. She needed forty winks and a chance to think…

The trip was not a long one, as the family was only headed into Whitwell to do some shopping. The lasses all wanted cloth for new frocks, and Eglantine needed to restock her knitting basket, while Paladin was happy for the opportunity just to have an afternoon off from the tasks of running the farm. Pippin reached into his pocket and withdrew a small bag containing his pennies. He shook them out on his lap and counted them, dropping them back into the pouch one by one. Paladin watched him from the corner of his eye. The pennies had been burning a hole in his lad’s pocket for days, ever since he’d been given them in anticipation of the trip into the village. He grinned at the memory of being Pippin’s age and doing the same thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Pippin tilted his head to look up at his father after he finished dumping the coins back into the bag.

Paladin laughed. “Just remembering something, m’boy, that’s all. Come,” he gestured for Pippin to climb onto his lap and when he had, he settled the youngster in between his knees and placed the reins in his hands while still guiding them with his own. “I think it’s time you learned to drive the waggon.” Pippin squealed with glee, grasping the reins between his fingers. Inside his shirt, Tulip clucked her tongue in mild distress. How dare Paladin give her lad his first driving lesson while she was travelling with them?

“It’s all right, lass,” Pippin soothed, speaking into his open shirt collar. He grinned up at his father. “Tulip is a wee bit worried about my driving, Da.”

A groan could be heard from the back of the waggon and Eglantine shushed her youngest daughter. “But Mum, I’m older than Pippin and I haven’t been allowed to drive yet!”

“Hmph.” Pervinca sat back and folded her arms. “You better not put us in the ditch, Pip.”

“Don’t be a worry wart, Vinca. Your brother’s doing fine,” Paladin reassured her. “And I’m holding the reins too.” He winked at his son and Pippin giggled. In truth, the youngster was urging the ponies on all by himself, and was feeling more grown up with each passing moment.

“What?” Pippin was distracted by a whisper and tilted an ear towards his collar. “What are you talking about?”

“Why, I don’t think I’ll have any problems with it,” Pippin spoke into his shirt. “And how do you come up with these ideas?”

“Watch the road, lad!” Paladin grabbed the reins and steered the pair of ponies back onto a straight course.

“Maybe he’s going to give Tulip the reins?” Nell chuckled. “What do you think, Mum?”

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think our little brother is getting more daft by the day.”

“Now, Pervinca, I think if Tulip was asked to drive she’d do a fine job of getting us into Whitwell. After all, lasses can drive a waggon just as well as the lads! Isn’t that right, Pad?”

“Oh, yes indeed, m’dear. I couldn’t agree more wholeheartedly.” Paladin bobbed his head up and down.

“Well, Da, maybe we should see what kind of a driver Tulip is?” Pearl winked at her mother. “Why don’t you give her the reins for a few moments, Pippin lad?”

”Oh, I don’t see why not. Put her up here on your lap.” Paladin took the reins while his son scooped his toy out of his shirt and placed her in front of him. Paladin looped the reins around Pippin’s hands as they held the knitted piglet together. He coaxed the ponies to a brisker trot, and Pippin laughed.

“Aye, so she does. I can tell. Perhaps we should have brought along Sammy Lambie? He’s missing out on all the fun.”

Pippin giggled. “Mum, Tulip’s driving the waggon! And she’s making the ponies go faster!”

Pearl poked Nell with her elbow and grinned. “Oh my, yes! What a talented piggy we have amongst us. Why, just for going to all the trouble of driving us in to town I’m going to purchase some cloth to make her a new sunbonnet.”

“And of course, you’ll need to embroider a tulip on the brim, Pearl,” Pimpernel told her with a straight face.

“Of course I shall, and perhaps she should have a wee parasol too, one with fine lace and frills--”

“What? No frilly parasols, Pearl! Tulip may be a lass piglet, but she’s not a fancy one.” Pippin sounded mildly disgusted. “See? Even Tulip says she thinks it’s not suitable for her,” he sniffed.

“Oh, very well. Just the bonnet, then?” Pearl had a mock look of disappointment on her face.

Pippin nodded his head firmly. “Aye, she says a bonnet is lovely, and she’d welcome it, but no lacey parasol!”

“Thank goodness. I don’t think I could keep from laughing if I saw Tulip carrying around a parasol,” Pimpernel whispered to her mother.

“What do you think Tulip would like to do?” Paladin asked his son in all seriousness. They had just left the lasses and were strolling around the little village square. “We have plenty of time. I’m sure it will take your mother and sisters at least an hour or two to decide on what they want at Miss Daisy’s fabric shop.”

Pippin nodded, slipping a small hand inside his father’s larger one. “And then Mum will have to pick out all her bits and bobs to go in her sewing basket and what colour wool she needs for her knitting.”

The simple gesture filled Paladin’s heart with warmth. He squeezed it gently as they continued their stroll down the busy village street, pausing every now and again to peer into one of the windows of the shops that beckoned their attention. They stopped at last in front of the one that boasted a colourful exhibit of every kind of sweet imaginable to Hobbit-kind. “Ah, me! What a fine selection Mr Chubb has for us today. What do you say we go in and take a look around, eh?” Paladin took an eager step forward.

Pippin hesitated, rattling the pouch of coins inside his pocket, his mouth watering as he studied the tasty display. Inside his shirt, Tulip wriggled, poking him firmly with one miniature hoof to remind him of what he needed to do. “I know,” he whispered. “Umm, Da? Wait for a moment?”

Paladin looked down, astonished. His lad? Resisting going into a sweet shop? “What is it, Pip? Is something wrong?”

“Mum has to get new knitting needles,” he confided. “And a great deal more wool, I think.”

“Oh?” This information took Paladin by surprise. “And why is that? Your mother didn’t mention it to me.”

Pippin frowned. “Well…she probably didn’t bring it up it because she doesn’t know it…that she needs them, that is…umm, yet.”

Paladin glanced down at his son’s almost golden curls. The lad was staring at his feet now. He tugged on Pippin’s hand to gain his attention. “Peregrin? Why does your mother need more knitting needles? I thought she bought a new set last time we came into the village?”

“Oh, aye. She did.” Pippin bobbed his head in ready agreement, still contemplating his feet.

“I think she needs a new pair of the fat ones. You know, the kind she uses to knit a big blanket?”

“May have borrowed them?” Paladin’s eyes widened. “Aren’t you sure whether you did or not? And whatever for? Were you planning on doing some knitting yourself?”

Pippin scowled. “You don’t have to laugh at me. I was only trying to help.”

“What?” Paladin scratched his head, bewildered. “What are you talking about, boy? I wasn’t laughing at you. Why, I wasn’t laughing at all!”

“No, I didn’t mean you, Da.” Pippin gave his father a shy smile and a half shrug, and then crooked a finger at him to lean closer. Paladin placed his ear close to his son’s mouth and Pippin pointed inside his shirt. “Tulip hasn’t let me forget what I did,” he whispered. “She told me not to borrow them, and so now every time she’s reminded of what happened she has a laughing fit.”

“Ah,” Paladin said. “I see. Piggy has the giggles, does she? Well, why don’t you tell me what you did so I can join in, hmm?”

Paladin rolled his eyes. How well he remembered using the same plea with his own father. “Lad, you’re causing me to worry, now. Tell me what happened to your mother’s knitting needles.” Paladin led him to a bench and sat, pulling Pippin into his lap. Pippin relaxed against his father’s strong shoulder and sighed.

“I just wanted to make a coverlet for Lily. She’s going to be a whole year old soon, and she needs one because I gave Snowflake my new blanket last year when Lily and her brothers and sisters were born, but it got all dirty so--” Pippin took a huge gulp of air. “So now she needs a new one and Tulip said I couldn’t do it and that I shouldn’t try, but I was certain I could do it, so--”

“Wait a minute!” Paladin held up his hand to silence his son’s breathless speech. “All by yourself? Pippin, you’re only just learning how to knit. Not that it wasn’t a nice thing to do, to think of your cat and her comfort, but you really must ask your mother before you take her things. You know that, lad.”

Pippin nodded. “Yes, but…I wanted to surprise her with how well I’m doing. And I really did think I could manage it by myself. So, I took Mum’s things without asking, but now…uh…now they’re gone.”

“Yes?” Paladin raised an eyebrow, bracing himself for any number of peculiar explanations.

“Well…I’d just put my needles and ball of wool aside while I—Tulip! I know, all right? You’ve told me that a hundred times today!”

Paladin bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his son’s antics. He spoke into his son’s open shirt collar. “Ahem. Do be quiet, Tulip, and allow Peregrin to speak. There’s a good lass, now! Go ahead, lad. Tell me the rest of the story.”

“I put them on a hay bale while I was feeding Lily and the other kitties, and when I turned around, well…are you certain you won’t be angry with me?”

“Lad, what did you do with your mother’s knitting needles?” Paladin kneaded his temples where a headache was promising to bloom.

“Well…it’s a wee bit of a confusing explanation, Da. I’m not sure why she did it…”

Pippin sighed and turned back to face the road. “Pansy snatched them up, and the wool too, and then ran away with them in her mouth and now I can’t find them anywhere.”

Paladin stared down at the top of Pippin’s head, his mouth twitching in amusement. “Your mum’s goose stole your knitting?” The curly head bobbed up and down. Father, son, and knitted piglet each sat in silence, considering. At last, Paladin offered an explanation. “Perhaps she wanted to knit herself a nest?”

Pippin twisted around and peered up at his father with a doubtful frown. A muffled snort drifted out of his shirt and Pippin swept Tulip into his arms, holding her snout against his ear. He listened carefully for a moment. “Tulip says she thinks you’ve gone ‘round the bend, Da.”

Paladin laughed heartily as he stood and set Pippin on his feet. “Oh, she does, does she? And you agree?”

“Ah, well then. Where do you suppose she’s about to put those eggs she’s soon to lay, hmm?” Paladin draped an arm around his son’s shoulders and nodded towards the sweet shop. “Why don’t we go spend some of those pennies of yours before we head back to Miss Daisy’s and let your mother know she needs more knitting needles?”

“Aye, and more wool,” Paladin laughed. “Is there anything else your mum needs to know she has to purchase before we go home?”

Pippin tilted his head to one side, thinking carefully. “Well…Tulip says she’d be ever so pleased to have one of those big crème puffs we saw in the window of Mr Chubb’s shop, although she says we don’t have enough pennies for that and to get everything else we want.”

“It sounds like you both have a great deal of shopping planned.” Paladin led the way, sniffing appreciatively at the heady confectionary scents as they entered the store. “Perhaps I should treat everyone, what do you say? We can take them home to have tonight for afters.” Paladin winked and went to speak to the shopkeeper.

Pippin frowned into his shirt. “I thought you said you were on my side?” Tulip stared up at him with an impish smile and a twinkle in her satin eyes.

“Oh! Pad, you must come and see this!” Eglantine ran into the barn later that evening after sending her two youngest to fetch their father for supper.

“Come with me.” She tugged on her husband’s arm fairly bursting with excitement. Mystified, Pippin and Pervinca followed behind them. Stopping next to the shed near the kitchen door, Eglantine pointed. Still puzzled, Paladin stooped to look underneath the steps. A huge grin spread across his face and he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

“What is it, Da?” Pervinca watched her parents shaking with laughter before dropping to her knees and having a look for herself. Pippin crowded her out of the way, squealing with delight. An indignant honk filtered out from the hiding place at the unwelcome disturbance.

“Back up children,” Eglantine warned. “You know how she is when she’s sitting a nest!”

Still laughing, they peered at the big goose sitting haughtily upon her clutch of eggs beneath the porch. Several layers of bright red wool lined the nest in sharp contrast against a background of white feathers. Pansy honked a warning again and flapped her wings for added effect.

“Well now, at least she has the beginning of a blanket there, thanks to Pippin!” Paladin shook his head. “You see, lad? I was right; all she wanted was to knit herself a nest. Why, ‘twas very fortunate that you just happened to be knitting your cat a blanket during Pansy’s hour of need!”

“She can be keeping it too,” Eglantine told them. “Because I shan’t be wanting it back. Oh my, I do wonder what she did with the knitting needles though? I don’t even want to entertain the notion of just what that goose might do with them if she were upset with someone.”

“Tina, surely she wouldn’t use them as a weapon?” Paladin raised an eyebrow at his wife.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Pad. I wouldn’t put a thing past that goose. She’s a sly one.”

“Could be she’s hanging on to them for later.” Paladin glanced over his shoulder at Pippin and Pervinca and winked. “Who knows, we might find her finishing that blanket for Lily whilst she’s sitting her nest!”

Eglantine disappeared into the farmhouse ahead of them, the sound of merry laughter trailing behind her as the door swung shut.

Starter sentence: I really hadn’t meant to do it; it was merely a thought, but then my thought seemed to develop a mind of its own.

I really hadn’t meant to do it; it was merely a thought, but then my thought seemed to develop a mind of its own. I was hooked, helpless, like a fish squirming at the end of a line. When my imp of a cousin first whispered his idea in my ear, my first notion was to laugh. Unfortunately, I started to think about it and the idea grew in size and potential. Now, as I watch my aunt and my mother putting the finishing touches on the baked goods before they are loaded on the waggon for the journey to the faire, I find I’m having some serious misgivings about our little prank. Or, should I say, my prank. Pippin still looks at this as something serious he and Tulip are doing. But I know better. Ah well. I may as well sit back and enjoy the fun!

“Merry? How are we going to get our special cake made if no one will leave us alone in the kitchen?” Pippin whispered a little too loudly.

The creaking of the door silenced them and Merry hurried to yank the blanket up, at the same time urging Pippin to be still. A moment later they were in the dark again as Eglantine pulled the door shut behind her.

“Just remember, Pip. It’s a very unique recipe so you have to keep quiet about what it is. I’m sure I can talk Mum into letting us make another cake, and without Bilbo hanging over our shoulders watching everything we’ll be all right.”

“Because everyone will be extra busy getting ready. They won’t think anything of us making another cake. We’ll just say we thought of another one we want to try because we think it’ll have a better chance of winning than your applesauce cake.”

“But how will we get the special ingre…ingre…part in it without anyone seeing?” Pippin wrinkled up his brow, thinking hard.

“It’s called an ingredient, Pip. Just leave all that to me. Quit worrying, will you? We’re going to make the most extraordinary cake the Hobbiton Faire has ever seen!”

“Maybe we’ll even win first prize!” Pippin chortled with delight. “What do you think, Tulip?” He held the piggy to his ear and grinned. “Tulip thinks we will win first prize!”

“Perhaps we will at that,” Merry said with a grin. “I doubt there’ll be another one quite like it. And I’ll wager that once the judges get a taste of it they’ll be longing for more.”

“Then we should make an extra big cake so there’ll be plenty to go around. I wouldn’t like not having enough to go around if folks are going to like it as much as you say they will.” Pippin wrinkled up his brow in thought. “Perhaps we should make two?”

“No, one big cake will be fine, Pip. It’s going to have three layers, after all. We wouldn’t want a great deal of it left over.”

“I meant that we wouldn’t want them to have so much that the judges get too tipsy. That wouldn’t do.”

“Yes, but, that will be part of the fun, and they’ll all enjoy it. Trust me.”

Merry yawned widely and flipped over to face the wall. “Get some sleep now. We’ve a great deal to accomplish in the morning.”

Pippin tried to lie quietly but he was too excited, and the thoughts swirling about in his head refused to be calmed. “What are we going to call the cake? There wasn’t any name for it in the old recipe book. But there was a great deal of writing about what people thought of it. It must taste very good.”

“You can,” Pippin huffed with indignation. “My handwriting is getting better all the time. And besides, I was extra careful when I copied down the recipe.”

“If you say so. Your writing would be easier to read if you weren’t always in such a hurry.”

Pippin rolled onto his back, folding his hands underneath his head after tucking Tulip safely in at his side. “I don’t like it when people say ‘we’ll see’. Mum is always saying that and it usually means I don’t end up getting what I want. I think it’s grownups’ way of saying no without having to actually say it. You’re not even a grownup yet and you’re already saying it.”

“I wasn’t muttering to myself, I was talking to you. And Tulip.” He frowned into the darkness. “Tulip just agreed with me. She says she wants to help us get the ingre…stuff from the cellar too.”

“Good for her. Now be quiet and let me get some sleep or I won’t have enough energy to help you make the cake.” Pippin heaved a heavy sigh. “And stop sighing! You’re starting to sound like Great Auntie Pringle.”

Pippin snorted. “That wasn’t funny.” He held Tulip up and studied her face. “Was it, m’lass? Tulip just agreed with me, Merry.” It was Merry’s turn to sigh. A few minutes later Pippin spoke into the darkness again. “Can I eat the applesauce cake for first breakfast?”

Pippin found that Merry had been right. It hadn’t been difficult at all persuading his mother and Aunt Esmie into allowing them to bake another cake. As a matter of fact, they acted pleased that both lads were getting so involved in that portion of the faire. And his mum had seemed especially happy that it had nothing at all to do with the plum tarts. The hard part had been getting Merry to allow him to accompany him to the cellar where Cousin Bilbo stored some of his best food and drink, but he had managed it.

“Strawberry, blueberry, elderberry – oh, look, peach! Hmm…lick…licker,” Pippin mused, rolling the strange word around on his tongue as he studied the labels on the neat row of small bottles. “But that isn’t what it’s called in the recipe book. I thought you said--”

“This will be just as good, if not better. Trust me, it’ll work just fine. Here, put these in your britches pocket.” Merry handed his cousin two of the diminutive bottles, and then put two more in the pocket of his weskit. “And they’re called ‘liqueurs’, not lickers, Pip.”

“NO, Pip! No tasting. We haven’t the time, anyway. Come, let’s hurry before anyone catches us down here.” The boys scurried back up the stairs and into the sunlight, closing the doors to the root cellar very softly before they headed back into the kitchen.

Both of them jumped at the unexpected voice as Esmeralda looked up from the task of adorning her cake with delicate pink rosebuds made of sugar icing. Pippin reached for the rim of the bowl with one finger and she batted his hand away. “Oh no, you don’t. You keep your wee paws out of the icing, young sir.” She nodded towards the table. “Why don’t you two get busy with your own baking, eh? Let me finish this up in peace.”

“Sure, Auntie Esmie.” Pippin giggled and followed Merry to the table where they had laid out the needed items a short while ago.

Esmeralda finished her task a short while later. “I’m going to take this into the front parlour with the rest of the goods and help Tina start boxing everything for the trip. Can you lads manage in here all right while I’m gone?”

“I believe we can.” Merry grinned at his mother. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll keep a close eye on Pippin, too.”

Pippin frowned at his older cousin. “I’m doing rather well on my own, and so is Tulip,” he sniffed.

Merry ignored his protest and stirred the cake batter vigourously. “All right, hurry up and dump your bottles in now. We might not have much time until someone comes back.” Merry reached for his own stash and twisted the caps off. He paused long enough to take a whiff. “Smells very sweet.”

“I want to taste it!” Before Merry could stop him, Pippin upended his little bottle and took a swig that amounted to almost half the contents.

“Peregrin Took! I told you no tasting!” Merry snatched the bottle away and dumped the rest of the liquid into the bowl of batter.

“Eww, it is sweet! Tastes funny too.” Pippin sputtered, making a face. He ran his sleeve across his mouth. “And they sounded so good too, with all those fruity names.”

“I told you not to drink any. Serves you right.” Merry concentrated on pouring the batter into three round pans. “We have to get rid of the bottles. We can’t let anyone see them. Put all of them in your pockets and we’ll take them outside after I get these in the oven.”

Pippin did as he was told and laughed as he made a circuit around the kitchen. “Listen, Merry. I make clinking sounds when I move.” He busied himself with seeing how fast he needed to tread to make the delicate jingle, ending by whirling around in a circle and toppling onto the floor.

“Be quiet! Do you want our mothers to find out what you have in your pockets?”

A few minutes later they buried the evidence underneath the lilac bushes in the back of the garden. “Good job.” Merry got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his hands. “Now all we have to do is get the cake out of the oven and ice it after it cools.” He grinned at his little cousin.

“It’s going to be grand, isn’t it Merry? Why, I’ll wager we’re going to win the cake contest.”

Merry patted him on the shoulder as they headed back to the smial. “We just might at that, Pip. Either way, I think our cake will be the most popular one at the faire.”

Pippin released a loud belch and then hicupped. He giggled, “I think that strawberry licker is talking back to me, Merry,” he said, as he tottered up the path on slightly unsteady feet. “I feel kind of funny.”

Merry rolled his eyes at his cousin’s back. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t talk back loudly enough for anyone else to hear.”

The huge field where the faire was held every year was already filled with friends and neighbors the next day as Paladin pulled his waggon load of family up in front of the booth where the baked goods would be displayed. Bilbo was right behind them and was already helping the younger hobbits unloading the goods. He paused to have a look around. The excitement was palpable as the people scurried by, eager to share their wares with their neighbors and join in the fun.

“Oh, everything does look splendid! I simply can’t wait for the judging to begin.” The old hobbit clapped his hands with enthusiasm.

“Mum, Vinca and I are going over to the needlework booth so we can put up our display.” Pearl held up a colourfully embroidered image of wildflowers that had taken her months to complete.

“And I want to find a good spot for my blanket before Emerald Grubb takes up all the front row with her lap coverlets and potholders.” Pimpernel smoothed her blanket as she carefully refolded it and draped it over her arm.

“Ah, me. You lasses certainly have outdone yourselves this year. You go ahead now whilst I take your brother and his cake to the baker’s booth.” Eglantine bustled about, taking charge of her baked goods. “Are you ready, lad?”

“Let’s go, Mum!” He beamed from ear to ear as he helped place the big cake on a table in front of the lasses. The volunteer in charge of signing in the cakes gazed down at him. The little Took produced Tulip from his shirt and perched her next to their entry. “Hullo! We’d like to enter our cake in the contest now.” His proud declaration caused her to giggle.

“Hullo, Missus Took.” Petunia Boffin smiled at Pippin. “You’re entering this cake, Pippin? Did you make it yourself?”

Pippin bobbed his head up and down, pointing to his toy. “Tulip too! We’re partners, we made it together.” He leaned close and whispered in a rather loud voice, “She’s certain we’re going to win, you know. I’d hate to see her disappointed, but I did tell her there’s a chance we might not. Oh, and my cousin Merry helped too, but he doesn’t want to be on the entry.”

“Oh, aye, but Tulip isn’t really a toy, you know. She just lets everyone think she is. She has her very own apron that Pearl made for her.”

“Really.” Petunia glanced at Eglantine. Pippin’s mother shrugged, as if to say it was quite obvious to her that Tulip was a real piglet masquerading as a knitted toy. “All right, well I’ll just put both of your names on the entry form, all right Pip?”

“Splendid!” Pippin plucked Tulip off the table and perched her on his shoulder. “Mum, can I go with Merry and look at everything else now?”

“Go ahead,” Eglantine said, gesturing for her nephew to join them. “Just be on your best behaviour, m’lad. And don’t wander off.”

“We won’t, Aunt Tina. Come on, Pip. I see Frodo’s already done helping Bilbo unload the carts. Let’s go see what everyone else is doing.”

“I want to go to the toffee maker’s booth.” Pippin trotted off ahead of his cousin.

Eglantine looked up in alarm. “Merry,” she called, “be sure he doesn’t eat too many sweets!” Her nephew waved his acknowledgement before sprinting after the youngster.

“Missus Took, your Pippin is so delightful. Oh my, how he does chatter on. I hope he wins the red ribbon.”

“I’d better make sure Esmeralda gets her cake over here right away, then. I’ll see you later on, Petunia.” Eglantine went in search of her sister-in-law.

A crowd had gathered around the tent where the cake judging was taking place. Merry chortled as he listened to the comments about the unusual flavour of their entry. He nudged Pippin and whispered in his ear, “They love it, just like I said they would.”

The judges began placing the Ribbons on the winning baked goods. Merry tugged his little cousin inside the tent, eager to know the outcome. Their view was blocked at first and he and Pippin held their breath, then burst into cheers when the crowd parted and they spied the winning Red Ribbon lying in front of the three layer cake iced in white and adorned with fresh strawberries. Pippin and Tulip’s ‘Splendid Strawberry Surprise’ had indeed taken first place.

“See, Pip? I told you the liqueur would work,” Merry crowed. “They’re making quick work of it, too. It’s almost half gone.”

Pippin waved Tulip in the air. The piglet squeaked her dismay with the aerial view and demanded her lad put her down where she could enjoy looking at her Ribbon! “Sorry, m’lass,” Pippin giggled. “I’m just so very excited!” He spied his parents coming towards them and jumped up and down with delight as he plunked Tulip down beside the cake. “Mum, Da! We won, look! Tulip, Merry and I won the Red Ribbon!”

“Well, I’ll be.” Paladin stared at the long line of cakes, his son’s displayed proudly in the center bearing a large Red Ribbon. “Tina, he actually won. And look at all the folks sampling it.” Paladin shook his head in amazement. “Why, it’s over half gone already.” They could hear a variety of commentary as hobbits both young and old passed them bearing pieces of the cakes that were now being sliced and distributed to the crowd. ‘What an unusual taste’ and ‘I simply must have the recipe’ were the most often overheard remarks.

Bilbo ambled up to the tent, keen to see what was going on. He broke into a huge grin when he saw the winning entry. “Oh, bravo, lads! Bravo! Well done!”

Pippin sprinted up to him and hugged his legs. “Cousin Bilbo, Tulip and Merry and I won first prize!”

“Yes, yes I see. Isn’t that brilliant?” Bilbo hugged the youth and patted Tulip on her head. “Whatever did you do to make it so special?”

“We used licker!” Pippin declared proudly, then grunted as Merry slapped a hand over his mouth, making the last word come out sounding something like ‘pepper’.

“Pepper, indeed. Ah well, whatever you used it must be marvelous indeed. Now I simply must have a taste of it myself.” Bilbo scurried away.

“Pip, I told you it was our secret ingredient,” Merry hissed in his cousin’s ear.

“It’s all right, but be more careful. We don’t want anyone to find out our secret.” Merry winked knowingly at him.

“Mercy, it appears Togo Goodbody has been into the ale already.” Eglantine frowned at one of the cake judges. “See how tipsy he is, Pad? One would think he could have at least waited until the baked goods were all decided on.”

Paladin raised an eyebrow as the subject of his wife’s disapproval walked by them unsteadily. He turned a thoughtful eye to the rest of the crowd before noticing the winning cake was almost gone already. “I’m going to have a taste myself,” he told his wife. He found Bilbo nibbling on a slice, a huge grin on his face.

“You simply must taste it before it’s all gone, Paladin. I think you’ll find it’s got a most curious flavour.”

“Oh?” Paladin reached for a piece and took a hesitant sniff and then a bite. He considered his cousin’s words as a slow grin of understanding came over his face. “Where did they find their secret ingredient, do you suppose?”

“Oh, I don’t suppose at all. I know exactly where they found it. On the third shelf to the right of the apple brandy in my root cellar. My very expensive fine fruit liqueurs. Hmm, I would guess around four bottles. Your lad didn’t concoct this escapade up by himself, though. He couldn’t have even reached them without help.” Bilbo’s eyes tracked Merry as the youngster whispered to a giggling Pippin near the opening of the tent.

“Pippin kept saying he’d copied an old recipe from a book at Great Smials. Now I find myself wondering what book he found,” Paladin said. He shrugged. “Ah well. You have to admit, they did make a mighty fine cake. And one that has a wee bit of an extra kick to it, eh?”

Bilbo watched thoughtfully as several of the fair goers helped a tipsy Togo Goodbody back to his feet for the second time. “Yes, I do believe that would be for the best.” He stuck the remainder of his cake in his mouth and closed his eyes while he savoured it blissfully. “But I do believe I’m going to have to get the recipe from the lads myself.”

“It would be just the thing to make for Gandalf the next time he visits the Shire.”

“That, and he’ll appreciate the good tale that will come with the cake!” Bilbo’s eyes twinkled as he reached for the last piece, only to find someone else pinching the tasty morsel before he could claim it. Bilbo blinked in surprise.

Saradoc neatly popped the bite into his own mouth with a wink of conspiracy. “Bilbo, why, it pains me to think you weren’t going to save a slice for me! Ah, this is indeed a most unusual tasting cake.” He smirked as he shoved the rest of the cake into his mouth and wiped his hands on his britches as if he was but a small lad himself.

“Aye, it’s a shame we didn’t save any for the boys. After all, they did make it,” Paladin said.

“Aye, and sometimes a cake is just not what it seems, eh?” Paladin winked at them.

For Golden, in thanks for her ever present plot bunnies (no, it's *still* not the one you're waiting for, but I hope you like it anyway!).

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Pippin muttered into the corner, his sharp nose almost touching the wall.

“It is not! It’s yours,” Sancho’s voice was muffled because his nose was buried in the corner across the room from Pippin. “You know it is.”

The room was quiet for a moment before the smaller of the two lads whispered, “Is not.”

“Yes, it is.” Sancho added a firm nod for emphasis, although Pippin couldn’t see him do it.

“It wasn’t my fault, was it Tulip?” Pippin whispered again, this time addressing his knitted piglet, who occupied the corner to his right. Pippin frowned when Tulip chose not to answer. He squirmed, waiting for her to make up her mind but still she remained silent. Pippin sighed, addressing Sancho without turning, “Tulip’s upset with me. She won’t answer.” Sancho didn’t bother answering either; he simply rolled his eyes while Pippin continued chattering.

“I never meant for you to get in trouble too,” Pippin offered finally, hoping to get Tulip out of her bad mood.

“No, I’d never do anything to get Tulip in trouble. She’s the one who always tries to keep me out of it.”

“WHAT?” Sancho whirled and stared at his friend’s back, his mouth dropping open in disbelief. “I thought you were talking about me!”

“Huh?” Pippin turned around slowly to gape at him. “You’re the one who started everything! I didn’t get you into trouble you got me into it! And Tulip.” Pippin turned back to his corner with a disdainful sniff.

Sancho stared at him for another moment before facing the wall again. “You’ve quite the selective memory, Pip.” His voice sounded muffled.

It was Tulip’s turn to roll her satin green eyes. How irritated she was with both of them. A selective memory? She reckoned both boys had a pretty good one. She ought to remind them just who the mischief-makers were, and how they had got her into this mess in the first place. Why, what was Eglantine going to think? She knew Esmeralda would tell her all about it, and Tulip didn’t know how she was going to stand the shame. Imagine, here she was in the corner right along with these two young rascals! The very ones she was supposed to have been keeping out of mischief. Oh! my lad, how could you do this to me?

“Whatever are you going on about, Sancho?” Pippin glanced over his shoulder. “I was talking to Tulip.”

“Well how am I supposed to know that? Besides, talking to stuffed animals is dim-witted.”

“That’s right, she does.” Pippin turned around long enough to stick his tongue out. “Tulip says you’re a ninny hammer.”

Sancho spun to face him, his scowl deepening. “Oh she does, does she? Well, tell her I said she’s fat!”

Pippin covered his ears at the expected indignant shriek of protest. “Now see what you’ve done?” He rushed over to where his little friend sat with her snout pressed against the wall, and scooped her up. “Come on m’lass, you can share my corner. Hmph!” Tossing a grunt of irritation in Sancho’s direction Pippin returned to his spot and placed the fretting piglet on his shoulder. “Shh,” he comforted, patting her reassuringly, “he didn’t really mean it.” Tulip quivered with annoyance before calming ever so slightly while the pair of lads remained silent. She was just about to offer a few words of wisdom to them when Sancho spoke up again.

Tulip puffed herself up and released a long, scolding rant in Pippin’s ear. The youngster winced, wishing Sancho could hear her too. “Stop being so mean, Sancho. I told you before you’re hurting Tulip’s feelings.”

“What about my feelings? You’re both responsible for my having to spend an entire hour with my nose stuck in this stupid corner!”

“No, we’re not. We’re here because you didn’t know when to shut your big mouth and quit teasing her. I told you, Tulip has her ways of getting you back, but would you listen? Noooo, of course not. So, here we are. And it’s all your fault.”

“I’m getting tired of hearing you say that, Pip. Besides, if she was trying to get me back for anything how come you’re right smack in the middle of it, hmm?” Sancho smirked at his friend. “Especially when you already know whose fault it really is – you and your daft piggy.”

Pippin made a face at Tulip’s howl of protest. “Now you’ve done it. You don’t know what it’s like to have her truly annoyed with you, but you’re going to find out very soon.”

Sancho rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “My knees are simply knocking together in fright.”

“All right, but I warned you. She’s very upset, and she’s worried about what Mum is going to think. You’ve really hurt her dignity, getting her into trouble the way you did, and then calling her fat—oww!” Pippin grimaced and rubbed his ear where Tulip had pinched it with her tiny hoof. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Oh my stars, you are impossible, Peregrin.” Sancho couldn’t keep himself from roaring as he watched the amusing spectacle. He leaned against the wall gripping his sides while he shook with laughter.

Pippin turned all the way around, scowling at his tormentor. “Don’t call me that. People only call me ‘Peregrin’ when I’m in trouble.” He continued to rub his ear.

“Well, guess what? You are in trouble. That’s why you’re standing in the corner, remember? And it’s because of your blunder that I’m standing here too! Sheesh, Pip, I wish you’d just leave me out of your foolish tricks next time.”

“WHAT? How did you come to that long-winded conclusion? I wasn’t even near you when--”

“Yes, you were! If you hadn’t been trying to snatch Tulip away from me I never would have broken Auntie Esmie’s favourite flowerpot and ruined her day lily.”

“I was halfway across the room when it smashed to the floor. It was you and your ridiculous larking about with the talking pig that caused you to fall--”

“I didn’t want your stupid toy. I just wanted you to stop waving her about in my face. That really is quite annoying, you know. And actually, you should be thanking me right now.”

Pippin eyes grew wide with disbelief. “What? However did you come to that conclusion?”

“Because I kept you from getting into even more trouble by telling on you, of course! Before you could break anything else.”

“Oh, I see. I think your plan backfired else you wouldn’t be standing here with me right now.”

Sancho’s face reddened. “You’re daft. You do know that, don’t you? And clumsy. That’s why the flowerpot got broken.”

Pippin jabbed his finger into the other boy’s chest. “You take that back! You pushed me when you grabbed for Tulip and that’s why I fell against the table.”

“I won’t, because it’s true.” Sancho struck a defiant pose, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip.

“But--” Pippin paused to listen. “What, m’lass? Really?” Pippin sucked in a sharp breath.

“Tulip, is that true? No, of course I know you wouldn’t fib to me, but…it just seems so…so…”

“So…WHAT? What are you talking about? Really Pip, you’re going to send me ‘round the bend if you keep this up much longer.” His only answer was a giggle from the smaller boy. Sancho sighed heavily in defeat and slumped against the wall. “My legs are tired.”

“Tulip says ‘good.’ She hopes your feet are too. Oh, and she wants me to remind you whose fault that is.” Pippin snickered at his jest before he leaned his ear towards Tulip to listen. “What? Well, I thought it was rather amusing. Aye, I realise you didn’t. What? Why do I have to mind my manners? It’s only Sancho, and he was being boorish. Oh, all right, if you insist.”

Pippin twisted his head around and eyed Sancho with a frown. “Tulip wants me to say I’m sorry for being so…so…what did you call it? Oh, right, for being so impertinent. Why can’t I just say I was cheeky?” He giggled as Tulip whispered in his ear again. “Oh, that’s another word for it?”

“There’s a word for it all right, Pip. Actually there’s more than one that would fit. Daft. Dotty. Dim-witted. Mad. And if you keep talking to stuffed animals, folks are going to start using those words whenever they see you coming.”

The room fell quiet again. They listened to the ticking of the clock on the mantle as the minutes crept slowly by. The sweet aroma of pastry baking in the oven drifted in and tickled their noses; occasional rumbles from two hungry tummies joined in harmony with the clock. At last, Esmeralda appeared in the doorway of the parlour to release them from their corners. She called them to her as she took a seat on the couch and then looked them up and down. “Well, have you each learned your lesson?” Two curly heads bobbed up and down.

Esmeralda smiled, tilting their chins up in order to study their faces. “There will be no more teasing?” Both of them shook their heads. “Or name calling?” Another shake of their heads. “No more trying to one-up the other with tomfoolery, and no more insults?”

“No, Auntie Esmie. Tulip and I promise.” Pippin looked at Sancho, barely resisting the urge to stick out his tongue.

“All right.” Esmeralda rose and placed an arm around each of their shoulders. “Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen? Pervinca and Merry are helping me make apple pies for dinner. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Pippin bobbed his head up and down, grinning sheepishly at Sancho, who couldn’t help grinning back at the mention of sweets. “We could smell them all the way in here.”

“Come along then, children.” Esmeralda made her way ahead of them, anxious to check on her pies.

“Umm…just what did Tulip say a moment ago? About not fibbing?” Sancho looked uncomfortable but in truth, he couldn’t resist the question.

“Oh!” Pippin’s green eyes twinkled with mischief. He leaned over to whisper in his friend’s ear. “Tulip said we were all responsible for what happened, not just one of us, and so we should stop arguing and make up.”

Pippin nodded his head firmly. “But she says she still thinks you’re a ninny hammer,” he crowed, and then darted for the kitchen with Sancho hot on his heels.

A/N: This story takes place on the same visit as “Partners in Crime” and was inspired by yet another of Golden’s wonderful bunnies. For Pearl Took on her birthday!

“I can’t believe you’re hugging that stupid stuffed pig again,” Sancho Proudfoot sneered at Pippin as the youngster skipped past him on his way to the big kitchens in Brandy Hall. Although they were both just six years old, Sancho stood a full three inches taller than the diminutive Took.

“Tulip isn’t stupid! And don’t call her names, you’re going to hurt her feelings!” Pippin clutched the soft, plump piglet to his chest protectively.

Sancho rolled his eyes and gave a rude snort. “I’m going to get something to eat.” Dismissing him with a childish toss of his head, Sancho shoved past the smaller hobbit, nearly causing Pippin to lose his footing.

Pippin glared after him as Sancho sprinted away. He soothed Tulip’s bruised feelings and tucked her inside his shirt before heading off in the opposite direction, his thoughts of a snack now forgotten. Pippin brushed a tear from his brimming eyes and failed to stifle a sob. He hurried to his room and slammed the door, then threw himself on the bed, pulling Tulip from his shirt and hugging her close. It was the third time since his family had arrived at the Hall to celebrate Aunt Esmie’s birthday that Sancho had teased him about his toy. It wasn’t fair. All of the other children had their own favoured companions, every one of them… except Sancho. Pippin thought this over, still sniffling. Perhaps Sancho thought himself too grown up for a stuffed toy? Most likely. Well, he could do whatever he liked. He was probably jealous because he didn’t have a good friend like Tulip. Surely that must be it.

“Isn’t that right, m’lass?” Pippin held his beloved piglet at arm’s length as he chattered on. “Sancho’s simply envious because I have such a splendid friend and he doesn’t!” Pippin emphasized the last word with a disdainful sniff and scrubbed his nose on his sleeve. “That’s why he says all those nasty things to us, and pushes me and calls me a ninny hammer. I know! It isn’t really a very nice thing to say, but he isn’t being nice to us either. I’m sorry Tulip, all right? I just get so sad and hurt when he does that, and I really do think he envies me for having you.”

Tulip clucked at him in her gentle voice and he raised an eyebrow in surprise and pulled her closer. “You don’t think so? Whatever do you mean? And no, I don’t think I’m being defensive at all!” Pippin listened, his eyes widening. “But, if he wants to be our friend how come he keeps teasing me? And he makes fun of me, and you too! Aren’t you annoyed, Tulip?” Pippin sighed and rolled onto his back. “Well, I am. And I don’t know why you don’t understand.” Pippin sighed again, more loudly this time. “When will I be old enough then?” He sat up and squinted at her. “What? You’re starting to sound like Mum again.”

He wiped his eyes and sniffled one more time before sliding off the bed. Tulip reminded him that Auntie Esmie was baking, and perhaps they should go see what she’d made for them? Pippin considered. Thoughts of his aunt’s strawberry and cherry tarts set his mouth watering and he decided he didn’t need any more urging from Tulip.

“All right, I suppose it’ll be worth it even if we have to see Sancho.” He brightened. “Race you to the kitchen,” he chortled to the piglet and set off as fast as he could go holding Tulip out at his side. The race ended up as a tie. Piglet and hobbit lad both sniffed appreciatively at the inviting aroma tickling their noses as they dashed into the kitchen, very nearly colliding with Pippin’s younger cousin, Goldenrod, who was still just a wee faunt.

“Ah, there’s m’lad at long last—oh! Be careful, Pippin. You almost pushed Goldie off her feet!” Eglantine chuckled as Pippin’s eyes lit up when he spied the pastries she and Esmeralda were icing.

“They’re still warm,” Vinca said, closing her eyes as she savoured the taste and licked the icing off her fingers.

“We’re hungry,” Pippin declared, waving Tulip in the air and ignoring the noisy snort that came from Sancho’s direction.

“Sit here Pip,” Merry called and patted the chair next to him. All around the big table hobbit children of all sizes had come to sample the tarts that seemed to be pouring out of the oven like leaves tumbling from a tree on a windy harvest time day.

Pippin tossed a look at Sancho who was seated between Teriadoc Brandybuck and Holly Took. Sancho was obviously enjoying being the center of attention while Holly, being a typical Took, chattered away in his ear asking him all manner of questions and tugging on his shirtsleeve while she talked. Pippin thought his cousin might choose whom to sit with a little more carefully. Not that it mattered to him, of course. He slid into his chair and pointedly ignored Sancho, placing Tulip on the table in between him and Merry.

“Where have you been, Pip?” His older cousin grinned and then whispered in his ear. Pippin giggled into his hand and glanced at the pair across the table from them.

“Oh, stop being so suspicious. No one is making fun of you,” Merry told him. “I was only telling Pippin something amusing.”

“Sancho, that will be quite enough,” his mother warned him with a frown. “Merry is right so kindly keep your tongue inside your mouth, lad.” Sapphire Proudfoot bustled about the kitchen taking a tray of the iced tarts from Eglantine. “You are a guest and you will conduct yourself with a little more care please,” she called over her shoulder before heading into the cook’s room just off the kitchen.

The other children sniggered and Sancho blushed. He may have liked being the center of attention, but not when his mother was admonishing him. He glared at Pippin. The little Took made a face back at him and stuck out his tongue for good measure. Sancho folded his arms crossly and muttered to himself.

Sancho turned and scowled at Teriadoc, which only caused the youngster to laugh harder. That Brandybuck was a little troublemaker who always seemed to get away with things, just like Pippin. Maybe it would be a good idea just to keep away from him. Sancho didn’t like the way Teriadoc listened in on conversations, and repeated things told to him in confidence. He sighed, wishing he hadn’t told him his secret earlier. Oh well. If Teriadoc told anyone Sancho would know whom to blame. And who to corner later.

That evening as the fire burned low in the big fireplace, family and guests gathered to relax before bedtime. Paladin was tapping his pipe stem against his lip as he considered Saradoc’s question, while the quiet buzz of several conversations took place around them. “I think it’s going to be a fine harvest this year. Yes, I certainly do, and I like the idea of a barn dance. I like it a great deal, as a matter of fact!”

“Well, and what better way to celebrate the harvest? I think a party is a lovely idea,” Esmeralda nodded. “I can bring my fiddle and we can make some music to dance to, eh Pad?” She nudged her brother with her elbow. “And gather a few more folk to join us in a wee round or three of lively music-making and kicking up our heels.”

“And don’t forget the story telling,” Merry cried, getting into the spirit. “And I shall be the one to tell the very first scary story of the evening.”

Pervinca rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Oh Merry, you always want to be the first one to tell a story.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Vinca,” Nell admonished her younger sister. “Merry is a very good story teller, after all.”

“I think I tell a very fine tale myself,” Merimas reminded them. “Perhaps we’ll need to flip a coin to see who’ll have the privilege of going first?”

Frodo winked at Bilbo and spoke up for the first time. “You’re all forgetting we have the master storyteller and adventurer among us. Cousin Bilbo should be the first one to tell a tale at the festivities.”

“Oh, now it’s fine with me if Merry or Merimas has that privilege,” Bilbo said with a modest chuckle. “Indeed, it will be excellent to simply sit back and enjoy the festivities without doing any of the work for a change!”

The gaiety was contagious and plans were eagerly continued, each one putting in his or her ha’pence to the idea of a harvest celebration. Hobbits loved an opportunity for some good quality merrymaking, after all. And a party at the Took farm was always particularly fine.

Sancho sat off by himself listening, taking turns with Pippin in sticking out his tongue and making faces at each other. Tiring of the game at last, Pippin tucked Tulip underneath his arm and got up. He took his time choosing a book from the huge stacks the Brandybuck library boasted. His choice in hand at last, he trotted back and offered it to his father, interrupting the party planning.

“Will you read us a story, Da?” Pippin crawled up into his lap without waiting for an answer. The other children looked up hopefully. Pippin made himself comfortable and pulled Tulip out of his nightshirt.

Paladin gazed down at his son as if surprised to suddenly have a lapful of wiggly Took. He laughed as Pippin put his head back and looked up at him with a cheeky grin.

“Yes Uncle Pad, read us a story, please?” Holly Took added her pleas to Pippin’s and hopped up and down clapping her tiny hands in glee, while Teriadoc Brandybuck placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled his opinion raucously. The other children chimed in.

“Since you put it that way, and owing to the fact that you’ve all banded up on me like a gaggle of gooses, I suppose I’ve no other choice,” Paladin chuckled good-naturedly, making them all laugh. Even Sancho inched a little closer and looked ready to give up his pout.

He took the book from his son and looked at the title, raising his brow slightly. “This is what you want to hear, m’lad? Are you sure it won’t give you a bad dream? There’s a big, nasty troll in the tale.”

“I’m not afraid of trolls! I want to hear this one.” Pippin gave a firm nod of his head and leaned back against his father’s shoulder, placing Tulip on his knees and folding his arms.

Paladin shrugged and began, “Once upon a time there were three billy goats gruff and a huge, ugly troll that lived under a bridge…” He made all the proper voices of the characters with an expert twist as he read, weaving a compelling tale and keeping the children well entertained until their eyes began to droop.

“Ah, I see quite a few wee ones who are ready for the sand-hobbit to visit them,” Eglantine nodded knowingly at the other mothers.

“Yes indeed,” Esmeralda agreed as she rose from her chair. “Come, I’ll help get everyone tucked in.”

Pippin yawned as his father kissed the top of his head and set him on his feet. “G’night, Da,” he mumbled as he trailed after his mother and the other children, Tulip clutched in his arms. “Merry? Will you sleep in my bed with me?”

Merry grinned and ruffled his cousin’s curls. “As long as you promise to keep your cold feet off me.”

Sancho was last in line and Paladin watched him with a curious eye. The lad hadn’t said much tonight. Perhaps he missed his father? Olo had been unable to come with his family for the first few days, but planned to arrive for the party. Sancho seemed a little sad and Paladin made a mental note to keep an eye on the youngster.

Pippin’s wails filled Brandy Hall the next morning bright and early, waking any of those who weren’t already up. Tulip had gone missing!

“TUUUULIP! Where are you?” Pippin darted about in a frantic search of the parlour.

“Whatever is wrong Pip?” Pearl was the first to rush in at the sound of her little brother’s cries. Close behind her was Merry, a concerned look turning to one of surprise when he heard what the problem was.

“Where did you last see her?” Merry glanced around the big room, poking behind some of the cushions on the couch and peeking behind it.

Pippin was sobbing again as he tried to answer. “She was in bed underneath the quilt in between me and Merry. That’s where she likes to sleep all night because it’s nice and warm. I got up to go to the privy and when I came back she was gone!”

“Pippin,” Pearl placed a comforting arm around his shoulders and knelt in front of him. “Are you certain that’s where you put her when you went to bed? Or perhaps you thought she was tucked in snuggly but she fell out from under the covers. I know that’s happened before. Did you look under your bed?”

“Of course I did!” Pippin sounded insulted. “That’s the first place I looked because I thought she was playing a game with me, trying to fool me, or maybe she wanted to play hide and seek. But she wasn’t there.” Pippin began wailing again and Pearl scooped him up in her arms. “He did it! Sancho took Tulip, I know he did!” Pippin pointed as the other boy came around the corner.

Sancho stopped, mouth dropping open, eyes widening in apparent surprise. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Mercy, we could hear you all the way from the kitchen, Peregrin. What happened?” Eglantine was next to enter the room and looked around in confusion as the two youngsters glared at one another. Pippin struggled to get out of his sister’s arms and Pearl set him down.

“You took Tulip – give her back right now!” Pippin advanced on the bigger boy, finger poised to poke Sancho in the chest, his face turning red with fury.

“Whoa, hold on there a moment, lad,” Eglantine caught hold of her son’s arm as he stormed past and swung him easily around to face her. “Now, just what is this all about?”

“Yes you did! You were threatening her yesterday, and teasing me and calling Tulip names and, and, and--”

“Slow down, young hobbit,” Eglantine said, giving her son a slight shake, “and catch your breath.” She looked from one youngster to the other. “Now, I want to know what happened.” Both boys started to babble at once and their voices rose until she was forced to place her hands over both ears. “Stop! Enough.”

Sapphire pulled her son close and knelt on one knee, looking him in the eye. “Sancho, are you responsible for Pippin’s missing toy?”

Sapphire laid a finger across her son’s lips. “Shh, now! Do not shout at me, young sir.”

“He did so take Tulip, I know he did!” Pippin lunged at Sancho and was hauled back smartly.

“And the same goes for you, young hobbit,” Sapphire told her son. “Give Pippin back his toy.”

“Well, who else would? You don’t like her and you hid her away from me just to be mean!” Pippin struggled in his mother’s arms, earning himself a sharp swat to his backside. “Oww! What’d you do that for?”

“Oh my, you need to settle down right now, Peregrin Took! This is becoming ridiculous,” Eglantine scolded.

Sapphire sighed as she brushed the hair from her eyes and pointed at her son. “I said to give Pippin his toy, Sancho.” Her voice had grown sharp.

Sapphire pointed again, her face stern. “Then you will go to your room and think long and hard about this and you shan’t come out until you’re ready to tell the truth.”

Looking like he was about to burst into tears, Sancho tore out of the room leaving his mother, Eglantine, and Esmeralda staring after him in dismay. Pippin continued to wail.

“I have to find her, Mum!” He tugged frantically on his mother’s apron. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“We’ll lend a hand too, Pip,” Merry reassured his little cousin, glaring in the direction Sancho had gone. “Come on, we’ll get the other lads to help us and we’ll organize a search party,” Merry soothed as he drew him along.

“Well, I’m going to start the search in Sancho’s room,” Sapphire said. “And while I’m there I’m going to have a little talk with him. If he did take Pippin’s toy, I’ll bring it back to him shortly.” She laid a hand on Eglantine’s arm. “Tina, Esmie, I’m sorry for all this commotion my son has caused.”

“It’s all right, Sapphy,” Eglantine reassured her. “Children will be children, after all. Maybe your lad is telling the truth and he didn’t take Tulip.”

Eglantine turned back to Esmeralda when they were alone. “Och, and I’m afraid my lad won’t be any less than beside his wee self until he finds his knitted friend. Do you think Sancho took Tulip, Esmie? Perhaps he wants a stuffed toy of his own? I noticed he was the only one of the children who didn’t have one.”

Esmeralda pondered. “I don’t know,” she answered slowly. “If he did, surely he’d realise he’d be the first one Pippin would accuse, given the way he’s been teasing him about Tulip.”

“Hmm, well it’s a mystery and that’s for sure, Esmie. I’d best be joining the search myself, that is if I want to be having any peace of mind a’tall the rest of the day.”

“Aye, and isn’t that the truth? I’ll come with you.” Esmeralda followed, her brow wrinkled in thought.

It seemed like they had turned the entire Hall upside down and there was still no sign of a pink knitted piglet. They had looked in every room, searched every closet, looked under all the beds, and even turned out the pockets of every lad who looked the slightest bit guilty. This delighted young Teriadoc to no end, and he in turn had insisted Pippin do the same. Last of all, Pippin asked his father to hold him up so he could look inside the Grandfather clock that stood inside the entrance to Brandy Hall. Again, they did not find Tulip.

Pippin refused to stop searching and begged Merry to accompany him into the far reaches of the older section of the huge smial. Eglantine was about to put her foot down, but was persuaded to allow Pippin to go as long as Merry’s older cousins accompanied them. The older parts of the Hall were vast and it wouldn’t be difficult for little ones to lose their way. Some of the children had turned the search into a game and enthusiastically shouted out their discoveries to one another as they hunted, and kept up a game of ‘Hide and Seek’ along the way.

Sancho lay on the bed alone in his room, alternately crying and sulking at the accusations Pippin had made. No one believed him, not even his own mother. He wished his father would arrive soon. Surely he would believe him? While it was true he had thought about taking Tulip, just for the purpose of teasing Pippin, he actually hadn’t ever got around to it. So, who had done it? He turned the recent events over in his mind and kept coming back to the same conclusion. Teriadoc. Why that little. . . Of course, it made perfect sense. He was the only one Sancho had told his secret. And now Teriadoc was using it against him. Well, he’d show him. Sancho sat up on the bed and looked around the room, frowning. But first he had to get permission to leave his room. He flopped onto his back with a grunt and curled into a ball just as a knock came at the door.

“Dear?” Sapphire Proudfoot peeked in. Her only answer was a sigh. She perched on the foot of the bed, watching her son as he pretended to ignore her. “Sancho, did you take Pippin’s toy? You certainly have been teasing him about it a great deal.” She reached out and brushed a tear from her son’s cheek with a soft sweep of her fingers.

“Yes.” She touched his unruly curls, brushing the hair away from his eyes. “So, what do you think happened to Tulip?”

Sancho scrunched up his face. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to be angry?”

“No, I promise I don’t, Mum. But I think Teriadoc took her. And I think he did it because he wanted Pippin to think I did it, and he wanted to get me in trouble.”

“Well, he is.” Sancho crossed his arms and fell back into the pillows. “I told him a secret because I thought he was my friend. Now I don’t think he’s going to keep it. He’s using it to torment me and get me in trouble too.”

“He’s a tittle-tattler. He likes to tell things he hears or he sees just to find out what will happen. He likes to get other lads in trouble, and lasses too, sometimes. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him!”

Sapphire tried again. “But dear, you don’t know for certain that he’s doing any of those things. I think much of it is only in your imagination.”

“Can you prove that Teriadoc took Pippin’s toy? You didn’t see him do it, did you?”

“Well, we can’t accuse him of it. Not without proof. Think about how you felt when Pippin accused you. We mustn’t do that to anyone without good reason.”

“No, he didn’t. But he was upset and he didn’t take time to think about it. But we can’t make that right by doing the same thing. Perhaps you could help Pippin look for Tulip? Then the two of you could make up your differences.”

“Because he doesn’t like me. And he yelled at me and said I took it and he wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t.”

“Someone has to make the effort to put things to rights, my boy. I want you to talk to Pippin.”

Sancho’s scowl deepened and he shook his head. “No, I don’t want to! I think Pippin should come to me and say he’s sorry. Then I might think about it.”

Sapphire stood, her hands on her hips wondering just when her son had become such a stubborn youngster. “Then for the time being you will stay put and think it over.”

“What! I have to stay in my room? Even though you know I didn’t take Tulip?”

Sapphire drew her mouth into a thin line. Sancho eyed her expression, knowing he’d reached the limits of his mother’s patience. “If you decide you want to do as I’ve asked, you may come and find me. Otherwise, I want you to remain in your room for now and think things over. I hope you’ll decide to do the right thing and talk to Pippin.”

Sancho glared at the door as it closed behind his mother, but the expression faded quickly and he considered his mother’s words. He might as well do as he was told or else he was going to stay cooped up in his room for the rest of the day. Besides, he wanted to pay a certain lad a little visit. And find that stupid knitted pig! Everyone would be at lunch now so it was the perfect time to search Teriadoc Brandybuck’s room for the evidence. Sancho leapt off the bed and peeked out the door to make sure he was alone before setting off down the hall determined to expose the guilty hobbit.

“Well!” Eglantine watched the children trailing up the corridor towards her. “You’ve had a busy morning and it’s time for lunch. Come, all of you,” she gestured towards the kitchen. Pippin stayed rooted to his spot in the doorway while the other children passed him.

”Promise?” Pippin’s jaw was trembling although he was obviously trying to appear brave.

Merry draped his arm around the youngster’s shoulders. “Sure, it’s a promise.” Pippin sighed, but followed Merry to the table.

Teriadoc grinned and whispered in his younger brother’s ear as they watched Pippin slide into a chair. Little Roridoc giggled into his hands, peeking at Pippin from between his fingers.

“Cousin Del,” Pippin wailed at Teriadoc’s mother as she poured milk into their cups, “Teriadoc is saying something horrible about me!”

“Pippin, that’s enough,” Eglantine scolded. “You’re tired out and sorely in need a nap.”

Delphinium patted Pippin on the head. “I’m sure Teriadoc doesn’t mean any harm, love.” She raised an eyebrow at her son and the youngster stopped his tomfoolery immediately and sat back in his chair. “I should think a nap would be just the thing for all this brood after they finish lunch. Don’t you, Tina?” She winked.

Merry interrupted, “I’ll take a nap too, all right Pip? I’m not Tulip, but perhaps I’ll do for now?” Pippin couldn’t help giggling at his cousin’s expression.

“There’s a good lad. I know Pippin will appreciate your company,” Eglantine was quick to pounce on Merry’s offer. Pippin’s sentiment for Tulip was starting to wear on her and she hoped the piglet could be located soon. “Or I’m going to need a nap,” she muttered softly, “and a very long one at that!”

“Right, and afterwards we can start the search again.” Pippin started to protest again but had to stifle a yawn. “You see?” Merry laughed. “If Tulip was here right now she’d insist you mind your mum and have forty winks, wouldn’t she?” Merry gestured at the other children seated around the table. “And she’d want everyone else to take one too.” Several of the mothers shared a quiet laugh at Merry’s words. The clever lad had just found a way to settle all the youngest ones for a while.

“Yes, well, I suppose she would. . .as long as it’s no longer than forty winks,” Pippin gave in with reluctance.

“Splendid! Everyone finish eating and then you can all be off to your rooms for a much-needed rest.” Esmeralda winked at her son.

Sancho crept down the long corridors to the apartment shared by Teriadoc’s family and slipped inside. He spent several minutes searching through the other boy’s belongings. Next, he tried the cupboard and then the closet. He even turned up the mattress and found a cache of pilfered hair ribbons. Sancho gave a snort of disdain. Teriadoc was always boasting about pinching one from every lass who visited the Hall. As for him, he could think of much better things to do with his time then collect lasses’ hair ribbons. He let the feather mattress fall back on the bed with a muffled smack and turned to the windowsill. He stood on his toes and felt along the window’s edge and pulled the curtains back for a better look.

Sancho glanced about the room wondering if perhaps Teriadoc had concealed Pippin’s toy elsewhere. He was still quite certain he was correct in knowing the identity of the thief. Finally, he got down on his hands and knees to look under the bed when he heard soft footsteps in the hallway. Sancho dived underneath the bed with a squeak of fear and scrambled up close to the wall. The intruder hesitated at the door before entering, and then seemed to be searching for something. He heard the closet being opened, and then the creak of the cupboard door. The same places he had looked! Sancho held his breath when the feet paused at the side of the bed as if the hobbit in question were contemplating where to look next. He was certain he was going to swoon when he heard a quiet chuckle.

“I know you’re under there, lad. I saw you ducking into this room. Come on out now and we’ll have a chat, all right?”

Sancho thought this over. The voice was calm, with more than a hint of amusement in it. But before he could decide what to do, the feet shifted and the person the voice belonged to knelt and peered under the bed. “Ah, so there you are!” Paladin Took’s soft green eyes studied him keenly, a little grin turning up the corner of his mouth. Sancho felt his apprehension easing. Still, he was embarrassed at being caught here and he brushed at the tears that threatened to betray him.

“Ah, come on out, m’boy. It’s all right. Things can’t be all that bad.” Paladin tugged on Sancho’s arm. The youngster relented at the gentle touch and allowed himself to be helped from his hiding place. Pippin’s father scooped him up and sat on the bed, placing him on his lap. “Now. What’s all this about?” He brushed at the tears that were spilling now, and offered him a handkerchief.

“Come, tell me what you were about. I promise I shan’t tell anyone.” Sancho sighed heavily and Paladin enfolded the youngster securely against his chest in an attempt to comfort. “Now, that was a mighty big sigh for such a wee scamp as yourself. Is everything all right?” Sancho shook his head. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Sancho nodded. “Oh well, that happens sometimes with young lads when they’re caught out at their mischief, aye? But it’s all right, boy. I think I know what’s going on but I need you to help me find Tulip. Will you do that?”

Sancho tilted his head back and stared upwards, wearing such a look of surprise that Paladin laughed aloud this time. “What? Are you surprised because I’ve figured it out all by myself or because I need you to help me finish solving the riddle?”

“You’ll see.” Paladin set Sancho on his feet and rose, offering him a hand. “Come with me, eh?”

“But I’m supposed to let my mother know I’m ready to talk to Pippin about what happened or I’m not allowed to leave my room.”

“Hmm, well that is a problem then.” Paladin appeared to think about this. “And tell me, lad – were you ready to go find Pippin and try talking it out with him? Seems like you must have been thinking that way else you surely wouldn’t have left your room after your mum told you not to. Am I right?”

“So, weren’t you taking the long way around to the kitchen? How come you made a stop in Teriadoc’s room first?”

Paladin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Teriadoc. Hmm, did you have any other ideas about who it might be?” Paladin led Sancho along by the hand as they left the room.

“Aye, and so I do, but I was only asking for your thoughts on the matter. We wouldn’t want to point a finger at the wrong person, would we now?”

Sancho shook his head. “No, it hurts when no one believes you when you didn’t do something.”

“It certainly does. So we mustn’t blame the wrong person. I know it hurt your feelings when Pippin did that to you. Truth was, the lad was very distraught over his good friend gone missing. Not that it excuses his behaviour, mind! But it does explain it some, don’t you think?”

“I guess so.” Sancho glanced around, puzzled. “Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the kitchen.”

“You’ll see.” Paladin refused to tell him any more and together they went off down the dusty corridors into the oldest section of Brandy Hall.

“Oh mercy, Esmie – that was brilliant,” Eglantine chuckled. She’d just returned to the kitchen after tucking Pippin into bed for his nap. Sapphire was placing the teapot on the table while Esmeralda set out the cups. Eglantine laughed again. “Why, that reminded me of something Pad would do! Thank goodness Merry has his cousin settled securely beside him or Pippin would never have agreed to rest.”

“Yes, my son can be rather creative when it comes to the younger children,” Esmeralda laughed quietly. In her mind’s eye she replayed the earlier scene, then added, “particularly the part about Tulip wanting Pippin to mind her.” All of them broke into peals of laughter.

“How lovely of him to give his mother and her guests an hour of peace and quiet whilst the little ones snooze,” Eglantine said, with a wink.

“I’ll see to my lad before I join you for tea,” Sapphire said as she set about preparing a tray for Sancho. “Apparently he hasn’t made up his mind about what he wants to do, but he certainly must be hungry by now.” She sighed. “I had hoped the rumbling of an empty stomach would persuade him to come out of his room and start working things out with Pippin.”

“Well,” Esmeralda rummaged through a drawer as she spoke, sounding a bit distracted, “you go ahead and we’ll wait for you to return before pouring. Delphinium is going to join us when she’s finished seeing to her own little ones. Oh! Where are my silver teaspoons?” She frowned as she pushed aside other items. “Ah, here they are, well, some of them at least. Why, that makes two gone missing this week and one disappeared last week! I wonder what on earth. . .” Esmeralda continued muttering to herself while she poked through the silverware.

Eglantine laid a soothing hand on Sapphire’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry Sapphy, if they haven’t settled their differences by tonight, then we’ll have a talk with them both together. But children have a way of working things out on their own, so I doubt that will even be necessary.”

“Oh, but he can be so stubborn!” Sapphire shook her head. “You’ve no idea what he puts me through at times.”

Eglantine’s eyes widened in surprise and she threw back her head and laughed. “My dear, surely you jest? My lad has moments when he’s so persistent in his convictions he drives me to distraction. And that’s how we got into the present situation, isn’t it?”

Sapphire smiled. “You’re right, of course. But I do feel dreadful that my child has chosen a visit like this to display such behaviour.” Sapphire picked up the tray. “I’ll return shortly.”

Eglantine watched her leave before turning back to her sister-in-law. Esmeralda was still inspecting the silverware. “Oh, whatever are you going on about, Esmie?” She hurried over to her side and peered into the open drawer.

“I think someone’s been playing a prank on me. First one thing and then another keeps going missing.” She continued to search through the utensils. “Just like poor Tulip.” Suddenly realising what she’d said, Esmeralda straightened up and looked at Eglantine, her brow furrowing.

Esmeralda hesitated. “Well. . .one of my best pearl earrings. And my silver thimble, the one my mother gave me. Some of my other sewing bobs, too. Oh, and old Roridoc’s gold watch fob went missing just last week. I recall because he raised such a fuss about it. He thought one of the children had hidden it just to see how long it would take him to find it. But, not one of them was willing to own up to it.”

“All bright, shiny items, eh?” Eglantine pondered, hands resting on her hips.

“Where are we?” Sancho’s voice had fallen to a whisper and he squeezed Paladin’s hand a little tighter than was necessary. They had been walking for some time now and there was something rather spooky about the dimly lit surroundings. Everything was silent; it was as if they were completely alone in the great Hall.

Paladin glanced down at the youngster with a smile. “We’re in one of the oldest tunnels of Brandy Hall, lad. The part that was dug first, and a very long time ago at that.” He stopped, squinting into the shadows. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t been this way myself in many a year.”

“We aren’t lost, are we?” Sancho peered into the gloom as they neared the end of the corridor. A slight draft raised dusty specks of grime to swirl about in the air like sullied snowflakes. He shivered. “It’s cold, too.”

“What? No, of course we’re not lost. Why, I spent many a happy hour exploring here when I was young and I know it as well as the back of my hand.” Paladin lifted the lamp he carried a little higher and glanced into the left corridor, then the right.

“Were you alone? I don’t think I’d like to be all the way down here by myself. It would be rather unsettling.” Sancho furrowed his brow, realising what he’d blurted out. “Umm, you won’t tell Pippin I said that?”

Paladin shook his head, appearing solemn. “Your secret is safe with me, boy. Most assuredly. Come,” he inclined his head to the left and tugged on Sancho’s hand, “we’re almost there.”

“Where exactly is ‘there’?” Sancho glanced about, unconsciously pressing closer to Paladin’s side. “It’s spooky here.”

“Aye, I know it can seem that way to youngsters like yourself. And that’s good because it keeps wee lads and lasses from wandering places where they can easily get lost. Ah,” Paladin paused again and pointed. “Here we are at last.” The door was cracked open and although the light was weak Sancho could see the room overflowed with untold amounts of curious items. He looked up, his eyes questioning.

“Oh. Well, you never know when such things may be useful again, after all. And in a place as big as Brandy Hall there are many hobbits contributing to its contents.” Paladin stuck his head around the doorjamb and whistled. “It appears a great deal more has been added since I last visited.”

Sancho peeked around from behind Paladin’s leg. “You could get lost in there,” he breathed, and then sneezed twice. Paladin chuckled, ruffling the youth’s hair fondly.

“Aye, true enough, a little one might indeed lose his way. That’s why no young ones are allowed to come here alone.”

Sancho scrubbed his sleeve across his nose and sniffed. “But why are we here? Is this where Tulip has been hidden away?”

“Not exactly hidden. But I do believe we’re headed in the right direction.” Paladin pointed at the floor.

For the first time Sancho noticed that someone, or something, had visited here recently. His eyes followed the path of swirled dust across the room to the place where it disappeared underneath a dilapidated couch. Frowning, the youngster got down on one knee to peer into the dark recesses.

Sancho sank down onto both knees, studying the area. Finally he ventured, “It looks as if something has been pulled along the floor,” he pointed, “here, and over there.”

“Aye, it does at that.” Paladin knelt beside him. “So, what do you think is going on?”

“Oh!” Sancho’s voice rose. “I can see tracks of some sort!” Sancho scurried along on his knees, his excitement growing, and Paladin followed suit. It wasn’t long before both of them were coated with dust and grime from one end to the other. “But what. . .? These are odd footprints. They’re tiny and they look like they have sharp toes. Or claws.” Sancho examined the floorboards closely then lay down on his belly and scooted under the couch. “I don’t see anything else, though. . .” His voice was muffled and Paladin chuckled when Sancho released another series of vigorous sneezes.

“You might try breathing through your mouth and not your nose for the time being.” The youngster gave a sudden squeal of surprise and banged his head hard on the bottom of the couch in his haste to retreat. Paladin winced and leaned down to peer underneath. “Are you all right, lad?”

Sancho finished backing out and sat up. He shoved his prize at the older hobbit, grinning from ear to ear. “Look what I found!”

Paladin retrieved the bit of jewelry that dangled from Sancho’s fingers and held it up. “Why, isn’t this the charm that was given to Tulip for Esmeralda’s birthday?” He chuckled, “Yes, I’m sure it is. I recall Esmie saying that Pippin’s knitted friend shouldn’t be left out of the gifting.”

“Aye, and Pip put it on a bit of thread last night and Tulip was wearing it when we went to bed! I know, because I saw her when Pippin came out of the privy.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “Tulip goes everywhere with him.”

Paladin laughed at the expression on Sancho’s face. “Well, this is indeed a new wrinkle in our mystery. Hmm, now if Tulip dropped it when she was pig-napped perhaps she was trying to leave us a clue where to come look for her? What do you think?”

Sancho wrinkled his forehead. “But. . .how did you know to look here, in the mathom room?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had my suspicions over the last few days that Brandy Hall might have a wee thief.” He tilted his head at the youngster and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone, “I heard there have been any number of small items gone missing over the last few weeks. In particular, brightly coloured or shiny things such as buttons, and coins.” He held up the miniature charm that was missing its string. “And jewelry. A silver sugar spoon or two. Even old Roridoc’s best watch fob!”

“Ah, now just think about it, lad. Do you know of any creature that likes to snatch up anything and everything it finds and hide it away?”

Paladin laughed as he got to his feet and extended his hand. “It always leaves something in return, too. Come, and I’ll show you how to find such a wee beastie.” Paladin turned in a semi-circle, studying the floor of the room. Finally he pointed. “Let’s search over there.” They moved to the wall on the opposite side of the couch and explored the length of the baseboards and all around the nearby furniture on their hands and knees, poking through the odds and ends of accumulated treasures.

“More tracks, more disturbed dust, perhaps another bit or bob of something or other. . .ah! Here we are!” Paladin held up a piece of tattered thread. “This is what Pippin strung the charm on, I’m sure of it.” Sancho eyed it doubtfully. Paladin crawled along the edge of the cavernous room, carefully weaving in and out and around the discarded items that were in his way. At last he stopped and with a tilt of his head considered a straw hat that had been cast aside into a corner. The brim appeared as if it had been nibbled on, and the pink ribbon that had at one time encircled it lay in shredded pieces next to a fancy, overstuffed divan. Paladin turned to Sancho with a wink. “Well? What do you suppose did that, hmm?”

Slow understanding spread across the youth’s face and his dark eyes sparkled. “A mouse? Perhaps a rat?”

“A packrat, boy. Have you never heard of one?” Sancho shook his head. Paladin sat back on his heels and grinned. “I’m not surprised, if truth be told. There aren’t that many of them to be found in Buckland. They’re a curious little beast with a love for all things shiny--”

“Like Auntie Pringle’s raven?” Sancho interrupted, thinking of the eccentric Pringle Took and the bird that so often travelled around on her shoulder.

“Well, similar to that, aye. But a packrat tends to leave something in place of whatever it stole. Most likely because he dropped whatever it was that he was carrying in favour of the new bob he found.”

Paladin laughed and patted the youngster on his shoulder. “My guess is that yonder packrat pulled our wee Tulip away by the thread holding the charm around her neck, the jewelry being all he really wanted, you see. And then the thread got broken and he made off with his treasure leaving our knitted friend somewhere along the path he took. So what we need to do is follow the trail we seem to have found and I’ll wager Tulip will turn up sooner, rather than later. At least we can hope it’s to be sooner because I don’t think my ears can tolerate another day of listening to Peregrin wail over his lost friend!” Sancho giggled and Paladin shook his finger at him in mock sternness. “And don’t you dare tell him I said that if you want me to keep your secret, aye?” Sancho nodded enthusiastically.

“All right, then let’s have a look underneath that hat.” Paladin lifted the bonnet cautiously but found nothing. “Hmph!” He rocked back on his heels and blew out a breath before scanning the area again. “Well--”

“LOOK!” Sancho shrieked, gesturing wildly at the divan. Paladin stared at the flowery cushions moving just slightly as something pushed on them from underneath. Sancho had already rushed to the couch and was busy pressing back to see what would happen.

A high-pitched squeak met their ears before a sharp nose poked itself out of the hole in the old couch, and then immediately pulled back. Sancho looked underneath and his face lit up. In triumph, he withdrew a very dusty knitted piglet, sans charm and the tiny scarf Pearl had made for her.

“Ah ha! Found you at last!” he crowed, waving her frantically under Paladin’s nose. Dust flew in every direction and this time Paladin sneezed.

“Ahem,” he managed to grunt, struggling to clear his throat. “Well now, good for you, my lad.” He brushed absently at the grime on his shirt. “Let’s see what else is in that nest, eh?” He lifted the pillow and the small, brown rodent scurried away with another squeak. The packrat paused by the wall and turned back seeming to scowl at them for disturbing her comfortable home. Both laughed as the little thief clambered away. She darted easily between some loose floorboards and was gone.

“Sancho?” Sapphire knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open with her hip. “Dear, I know you--” She took in the rumpled bedclothes and the squashed up pillow in the middle of the bed with a frown. “Why that little rascal!” Sapphire spun and headed back towards the kitchen.

She arrived to find the room filled with excited conversation. Her son was waving the missing toy around while he chattered, and Paladin was dumping an armful of items on the table. She hurried over as Esmeralda plucked up one of the silver teaspoons with a frown, brushing at the dirt clinging to it and wrinkling her nose in obvious distaste. Eglantine was laughing along with her husband as they examined the odd accumulation of belongings. Sancho spied his mother and rushed to her side, holding out the dusty piglet.

“Mum, look! I found her! I found Tulip! Umm,” he looked at Paladin shyly, “I mean, we found her.”

“I see that.” She knelt and placed her arms around him. “And here I was getting ready to go look for you so I could scold you for leaving your room without permission.”

“You can scold me instead, Sapphy,” Paladin interrupted, ruffling the youngster’s curls. “I thought it would be all right if I asked Sancho to accompany me down to the mathom room so he could help me rescue poor Tulip. Seeing as how the lad got blamed for the mischief when he didn’t do it, I thought ‘twould be nice if he was the one who retrieved her and got her back to Pippin.”

Sancho grinned up at his mother and Sapphire couldn’t resist a smile. She pulled her son into a big hug and then stood to face Paladin. “Thank you. I think that was indeed entirely appropriate. But – how did you know where to look?”

“Yes, Pad, do tell us how you found Pippin’s toy,” Esmeralda looked from the piglet who wasn’t so pink at the moment, to the heap of stuff her brother had deposited on the table. She reached for a rag and held it under the hand pump at the sink. “Meanwhile, it looks like Tulip could use a bath, and the both of you too! But she’ll have to settle for having her face washed so I can clean up the rest of this mess first.”

Paladin grinned. “I recalled what I’d been hearing the last few days about all the items going missing--”

He nodded. “I haven’t seen a packrat in a very long time, but obviously there are still some around! It seems the beastie took a liking to the charm Tulip was wearing and stole her away practically from under Pippin’s nose.”

“I think this was an important lesson about why one should never jump to conclusions,” Eglantine said. “I’m going to wake Pippin now so you may give him the good news yourself, Sancho lad.” She put her arm around the boy and drew him along. “Come with me!”

Later that evening the private apartments in Brandy Hall were growing quiet as little ones were being prepared for sleep with warm baths and flannel nightshirts. With a freshly groomed piglet clutched to his chest, Pippin went in search of his friend before his mother spied him and insisted he get into bed.

“What are you looking at?” Sancho scowled at the face peeking around the door of his room.

“Why? So you can accuse me of pinching something else?” Sancho pulled the blankets up to his chin and turned to stare at the wall. Pippin slipped in the room and perched on the foot of the bed, placing Tulip between them with great care. He watched Sancho intently until his friend finally twisted around to face him. “What? Stop staring at me!”

“Because I hurt your feelings and I didn’t mean to. I was just upset and worried about what happened to Tulip.”

“Hmph.” Sancho sat up straighter and folded his arms. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

Pippin frowned. “No it isn’t. I was still annoyed at you, though. For getting us all in trouble yesterday.” *

Sancho held up a hand in protest. “Wait a minute, Pip. I thought we sorted that out already. You’re the one who broke the flowerpot.”

“Because you were grabbing Tulip away from me! And you kept teasing me about her, so why wouldn’t I think you did it went she went missing?”

“I know.” Pippin’s face reddened slightly. “I said I was sorry. Can we be friends again?”

“Well. . .” Sancho studied the earnest face intently. Finally he heaved a sigh. “I suppose if we’re going to I should tell you, umm. . .” Pippin looked at him curiously. “Ah,” Sancho stammered, his cheeks flushing. “The truth is I did think about taking Tulip--”

“WHAT?” Pippin’s eyes narrowed. “You were going to take her? How could you!”

“You thought it would be amusing to steal Tulip away from me?” Pippin’s voice rose along with the colour staining his cheeks.

“Pip, ‘steal’ is such a harsh word. I thought of it as borrowing her, and then only to have a bit of fun with you.”

Sancho interrupted, his expression growing sad. “But I didn’t realise you’d get so upset. When I saw how you reacted I actually felt bad for you. . . that is until you got me into trouble with my mother! Anyway, you hurt my feelings and after that I didn’t care how much howling you did.”

Pippin snorted, choosing to ignore the remark. “Tulip told me the whole story and she had to admit her adventure was rather exciting, being carried off by a huge packrat, and all, even though she was sorry I was so worried, but of course there wasn’t anything she could do to let me know she was all right so she had to wait to be found.”

Sancho stared at his friend, feeling curiously breathless with Pippin’s nonstop chatter. He was about to speak when Pippin quickly resumed, “And we’re both very pleased that my da and you went looking for her and found her straight away!”

Pippin held the stuffed toy up to his ear for a moment and then smiled. “She says she’s happy we both learned our lessons, as well.”

“Are you jesting with me, Pippin Took?” Sancho rolled his dark eyes at the ceiling.

“No.” Pippin grinned. “And she hopes we don’t get angry with each other again—what?” Pippin held Tulip to his ear another time. “Oh! Right. Tulip says she knows she’d be asking too much for us to neverget upset with each other again, but still, she’s hoping the rest of our visit will be a pleasant one.” He giggled into his hand. “And Tulip says she doesn’t ever want to find herself standing in the corner again!”

Sancho rolled his eyes once more. “Then perhaps she’d best not go about with you all the time!” He gave a small shake of his head, but remained interested just the same. “Well? So what else did she have to say?”

“I’m not telling you everything she said. She says you might do something naughty and get in trouble if I tell.”

“Because she doesn’t like to see anyone in trouble, of course! That’s why she looks out for me.” Pippin giggled and picked up his toy. “She says I keep her busy every minute that I’m awake and even sometimes when I’m asleep. Why don’t you have a stuffed friend?”

“Well. . .” Sancho thought about the secret he had shared and wondered if he should go ahead and tell Pippin before Teriadoc Brandybuck used it to embarrass him like he had a habit of doing? He struggled with the decision for a moment, and then finally in a soft voice, admitted, “Yes, I wish I had a stuffed friend too.” He grimaced, feeling his cheeks flush. He certainly didn’t want to ruin his reputation of being a bold lad who wasn’t particularly concerned with what others thought about his mischief (much to his mother’s chagrin).

Sancho thought he might have made a mistake when he noticed the twinkling in Pippin’s eyes and quickly rose to his own defense. “But I don’t need a stuffed animal like you seem to!”

It was Pippin’s turn to roll his eyes and he knew that what Tulip had been saying was quite true. It seemed that Sancho needed a friend, and a stuffed one alone would not be enough. But it would be a start! “Come on.” He tugged on Sancho’s arm with a grin.

“Come on,” Pippin insisted, tugging harder until the other youngster finally relented. He linked his free arm with Sancho’s and started for the door, all the while hugging Tulip to his chest.

“So we can ask her to make you a special friend too, just like she made Tulip for me!”

“Come on!” Pippin tugged harder and Tulip leant him a hoof in the effort. It seemed an uneasy, but enduring friendship was already in the making.

A/N: I realise the packrat is American, however I thought it fit perfectly for this story and I was unable to find a UK equivalent. If anyone knows of one I’d appreciate hearing about it!

*Reference to my story “Partners in Crime” that takes place on the same visit.

Eglantine accepted the basket of vegetables from her daughter and placed it next to the sink with a smile of thanks before turning back to the stove.

Pimpernel tilted her head at the door. “Pippin is playing in the garden again.”

“I just thought you should know.” Pimpernel busied herself at the sink, removing carrots and onions from the basket. “Because, umm, didn’t he have a bath only an hour ago?”

Eglantine sighed. Not again. It was the third time that day and she was not looking forward to struggling with her son over taking another bath. Oh! Why couldn’t he manage to stay out of the dirt for more than a few minutes at a time? She wondered if she might get away with giving him a sponge bathing. Well, certainly not if he’d wallowed in the mess again, which was highly likely. Steeling herself for the worst, she peeked out the window.

Pippin sat in the garden next to an enormous mud puddle created by last night’s rain, with Tulip perched on his shoulder. His legs were stretched out in front of him and he kept up a stream of chatter apparently talking to his toy. She winced when he planted both hands in the murky water and splashed them up and down with a squeal of delight, causing the mud to spew and rain down on him and his knitted friend. Tulip was no longer pink, and Pippin’s fair hair looked as grey as her granda’s!

She listened to his happy chatter for a moment with a smile turning up the corners of her mouth despite her mood. Pippin was fishing in the water hole with a string tied to a stick, a fat worm dangling from a makeshift hook. A row of mud cakes and pies, dotted here and there with flowers, lined the puddle’s edge.

Pies. . .she squinted into the afternoon sun, eyes widening. Mud pies in her best baking pan!

Eglantine took a deep breath and called through the window, “Peregrin Took! What do you think you’re doing?”

Pippin twisted around at the shout, spying his mother glowering at him through the kitchen window. “Uh oh,” he told his ever present friend, “it’s never a good thing when Mum calls me by my whole name.”

Tulip sniffed and hurried to throw in her own ha’pence, telling him he should be quite used to hearing his whole name shouted. After all, it was the third time today it had happened!

Tulip reminded him of how much he detested taking time out for a bath while he was having so much fun. Besides, he’d got her all dirty this time and now she would have to stop having fun too, and take time for a wash.

“Hmph.” Pippin chose to ignore the last remark and waved at his mother with a cheeky grin, hoping it would soften her upset with him.

Smudges of dirt dotted his face and trailed beneath his shirt collar. Eglantine gave a slight shake of her head in dismay while her son grinned at her from between long strands of golden hair now dark with dripping mud. She couldn’t help thinking he looked like the greased piggy at the Tuckborough Free Faire last summer, although much more contented! She opened the door and gestured for him to come, nimbly catching hold of the back of his braces as he tried to scoot by her. He spun around, almost losing his balance.

“Stop right here and don’t you dare be trailing any of that mud on my clean floor,” Eglantine scolded as she steadied him on his feet. “It appears you and your wee friend need to have a meeting with a bar of soap again, and here it’s only been two hours since the last time! That is, after we wash some of that mud off of you first.” Eglantine grasped his arm and tugged him along, heading for the pump next to the barn. Pippin protested all the way.

“Gracious, you’ve enough dirt in those ears to grow a peck of potatoes!” Eglantine plunked him down on the bench next to the pump and pressed the handle vigourously a few times, then shoved a bucket underneath the spout.

“But I love mud!” Pippin jumped up and danced around in a circle, twirling Tulip in the air. “Mud, mud, glorious mud,” he sang, “It’s squishy and soft and cold and fun--”

“But sometimes it has the most splendid things inside it – look!” Pippin pulled a huge worm out of his pocket and thrust into his mother’s face. She gave a squeak of surprise and jumped back. The worm sagged, unmoving and pathetic, while it’s proud owner admired it.

Paladin poked his head around the barn door to see what the racket was about. He wanted to laugh in the worst way when he spied the state of disarray his son was in again. Instead, he strolled over to join them.

“Mercy, just look at you! What happened, boy? Did you lose a wager with Tulip and have to take a roll in the pigsty?” He scooped the fish worm out of his son’s hands and inspected it. “I think this one has seen better days, lad. You’ll need fresh ones if you’re going fishing.” Paladin tossed the worm aside and rubbed his hands on the seat of his trousers before picking up the bucket of water and sloshing some of it on the youngster’s feet.

Pippin yelped and scurried away, dropping Tulip in his haste to escape the chilly soaking. His parents shared a look of wonder.

“It seems he loves playing in water as long as dirt is included,” Eglantine sighed.

“And without the dirt he’s afraid the water will do what? Make him melt away, perhaps?” Paladin shook his head and sprinted after his son, hauling the squirming boy back tucked under one arm. He deposited Pippin feet first in the bucket and together they scrubbed and rinsed the thick soil caked on his feet and legs until Eglantine finally declared him fit for the bathtub.

“There!” She stepped back and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Now we can get you into some good hot soapy water and finish the job.”

“Nooo. . .” Pippin clutched a soggy Tulip to his chest and glared. “I’m as clean as I need to be! I want to go fishing and I have to find some more worms and--”

“You mean you’re as clean as you need to be to have a proper bath.” Eglantine reached for him and he ducked underneath her arm and scooted backwards.

“That was a bath!” Pippin continued backing up. “Even Tulip said so.” He waved the dirt-streaked piglet at his mother.

“That was just a practice bath, my lad. Now you’re getting the real thing, but with lots of sudsy water. Come!” Eglantine pounced on him before he could creep any further away.

“Daaa!” Pippin appealed to his father for help, fixing him with the most pitiable face he could summon.

Paladin held up both hands with a shake of his head. “I never argue with your mother when she has that determined look in her eye, boy. You and Tulip are on your own.”

“Stop all that fussing, Pippin.” Eglantine placed Tulip in his arms and tugged him away, pausing only to snatch up her pie plate and cake pan, and scraped the mud off them with a show of great disgust.

Paladin waited until the door closed behind them before bursting out in laughter.

“Say Pad, what’s the matter? Is your lad allergic to water?” Old Teobald Took leaned against the pony enclosure enjoying the amusing scene while he puffed on his pipe.

“Aye, so it would seem,” Paladin chuckled and wandered over to join his cousin.

Teobald pointed towards the farmhouse with the stem of his pipe. "I seem to recall a similar scene, years ago."

"Och! Isn't it bad enough my sister is always teasing me about Pippin being so much like myself at that age? Must you start in on me too, Teo?" Paladin rolled his eyes as he tapped his own pipe against the palm of his hand.

Eglantine hoisted her son into the tub wondering just how on earth anyone could protest sinking into the warm depths of the soothing water. She certainly wouldn’t mind being in her son’s place at the moment, and indulged herself in the notion of a hot bath and some peace and quiet.

Pippin howled as she applied soap to a flannel cloth and gently began to wash his face. He surprised her, abruptly flailing his hands about, sending a small waterfall cascading down the side of the tub, soaking her apron.

Pippin sputtered. “You got soap in my mouth! Eww, ick!” Exaggerated spitting and grimacing followed and Eglantine rolled her eyes.

“Yes you did, Mum! See? Tulip saw you too!” Pippin pointed at his toy. Tulip perched on the side of the tub refusing to come any closer. “That’s why she jumped out! She was afraid you’d get soap in her mouth too!”

“Oh, mercy. Well, if I did it’s only because you’re jumping about and talking a mile a minute! And Tulip hasn’t even been in the bath with you. We’ll clean her up after you are dry.”

Pippin pouted, an impressive scowl, even for him. Tulip clucked at him from her vantage point and asked him to kindly leave her out of this argument.

With a sniff, Tulip reminded him whose fault it was they had both got so dirty and ended up in the bathtub yet again.

“But - you wanted to make mud cakes as much as I did! As a matter of fact, it was your idea to use Mum’s cake pan!”

Tulip begged his pardon? No indeed, the cake pan had been all his idea. She had simply suggested the pie plate but then he’d got carried away and took his mother’s best spoon and the butter pat, too.

“What? The butter pat was your idea, without a doubt. The stirring spoon was mine. You needn’t try to pretend you didn’t have a part in it. And how come you’re not taking my side?”

Eglantine listened to the one-sided conversation, shaking her head, and then realised what she’d heard. Her eyes grew wide. “My butter pat? And my good cooking spoon? Peregrin Took! Where are they? All I found were the pan and pie plate!”

“Oh, umm,” Pippin frowned, thinking. “Well, they might have got buried underneath the big birthday mud cake we were making. Remember? You saw it Mum, we put flowers on it to make it lovely and festive and--”

“Flowers,” Eglantine muttered, trying to recall what had been on the mud cake. Oh yes, little petals of purple and pink. . . “Oh! Not my violets! Tell me you didn’t pick my violets, Pippin!”

“. . .and we were about to decorate it with some of those pretty, smooth stones from the pond when you shouted at us, so maybe we lost them. Did you notice where we put them, Tulip?”

“Oh.” He looked up in surprise. “Those splendid, colourful ones growing next to the tool shed! They were perfect for--”

Eglantine groaned and planted a hand over his mouth, then shouted over her shoulder, “Pearl! Pimpernel! Pervinca? Is anyone about?”

A moment later Pimpernel peeked around the door. “Mum? What’s the matter?”

“Will you please go outside and have a look around in the garden where your brother was making muddies? It seems my best butter pat and my cooking spoon are buried somewhere in the muck.”

“You might need to poke around a bit,” Pippin called after his sister with a giggle.

“I’m sure Nell won’t miss the spot, Pippin, since your ‘cake’ is covered with my prize violets. Oh my, what am I going to do with you?” Eglantine scooped bathwater into a big cup and poured it over Pippin’s head to rinse the soap out of his hair, causing him to squeal in surprise.

“Why don’t you go ahead with your shopping, Tina? That’s what you came for, after all. And while you’re at it, you and Pearl stop and have tea in the village, too, yes?”

“Oh, dearest Bilbo! Are you quite sure you want to take over with Pippin? It wasn’t my intention to burden you with him today. After all, you were kind enough to invite us while the lasses and I go calling on Miss Poppy.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Go ahead and find something nice for dear old Poppy before your visit. Frodo and I are very capable of taking over with keeping an eye on our little cousin for the day. Aren’t we, lad?” Bilbo winked at Frodo.

“Well, if you’re certain, but we’ve only just arrived.” Eglantine looked doubtfully at the pair. Pippin was already sprinting out the back door of the smial and making a beeline for Cousin Bilbo’s garden. Oh, no. She wondered just when her son had acquired such a fascination with dirt? It was true he was a farmer’s son, but really! And, how could she do this to such a sweet old hobbit?

Pearl swept by them and took her mother’s arm on one side while Pimpernel grabbed the other. Pervinca waited on the doorstep with a grin.

“Mother, don’t look a gift pony in the mouth, as the old saying goes,” Pearl whispered. “We’ll be back in time to make supper, Cousin Bilbo,” she called, and closed the door firmly behind them.

“Smart lasses, all,” Bilbo laughed. “Come Frodo, let’s see what that scamp is up to.”

“I have no doubt Pippin is already busying himself and Tulip with something interesting,” Frodo said. He ran into Bilbo’s back when the older hobbit came to an abrupt halt in the doorway leading out to the garden.

“What’s wrong, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo craned his neck to look over his shoulder and joined in Bilbo’s loud groan.

Pippin sat amongst the bright blossoms, his legs drawn up and a pot of strawberry jam tucked between his knees, his toy beside him. The youngster dipped three fingers in the sweet and stuck them in his mouth, sucking on them in sheer delight. Frodo could have sworn there was a look of disapproval on the piglet’s face.

“Why that wicked little—Pippin Took! Who told you it was all right to help yourself to a pot of my freshly made jam? Why, it’s not even cooled yet!” Bilbo called.

“Uh oh, it looks like the ants are about to join the picnic, Uncle.” Frodo pointed.

Lines of the uninvited guests were making their way along a trail of jam that Pippin had provided, but the youngster was oblivious to everything except the taste of strawberry.

Pippin turned to them; the look of cheer on his face was enough to soften even Bilbo’s irritation. He paused, hands on hips and shook his head at the wayward boy. How on earth had he managed to coat himself with half of the jam in this short time? Bilbo bellowed a single word and pointed at the smial.

“Sing hey! For the bath at close of day,” Bilbo hummed as he set about starting supper. Eglantine and the lasses should be home any moment now, and he chuckled to himself at the thought of their surprise when they spied a squeaky-clean hobbit lad with a new interest.

“A loon is he that will not sing,” Frodo joined in the song as he helped in the kitchen.

“Drying off in his room. It was all I could do to get him out of the bathtub before he wrinkled up like a prune. “I’m afraid a good amount of the water got on the floor, though.”

“Mercy!” Eglantine’s voice drifted to them from the parlour, along with the sound of a slamming door and running feet.

Eglantine knelt and hugged him. “Look at you, all nice and clean and in your nightshirt, too! What happened? Did Cousin Bilbo make you have a bath?”

Pippin nodded excitedly and waved Tulip under her nose. “Tulip too! Only her bath was cool and mine was hot! And I learned a new song!”

“My lad, if you need to use the privy then please do so,” Eglantine motioned down the hall. “Then you may tell me--”

“I don’t need to use the privy!” Pippin chortled. “I want to sing my new song!”

Eglantine glanced at her daughters, puzzled. “Whatever is he talking about?”

Pippin stopped and rolled his eyes at his mother. “I want to sing my new song for you!”

“But Cousin Bilbo says this is a very special song and it can only be sung in the bathtub!”

“And it’s lots of fun because I get to splash the water, and pretend I’m a fountain, and. . .”

Pippin’s voice became muffled when the door slammed again and a moment later his voice rose in a loud song.

Bilbo chuckled. “Why, I’ve helped him appreciate his bath, dear Tina. That’s all.”

Eglantine sighed. “Yes, and now he’s taken three baths already this evening and he wasn’t even dirty!”

Bilbo sipped his tea and then patted her arm. “I suppose the lad is simply destined to spend many hours bathing, whether he needs it or not. At least he enjoys it now,” Bilbo lifted the cup to his lips again and muttered, “and he won’t spend the rest of his childhood covered with strawberry jam and ants.”

“A song that can be sung only while one is bathing, indeed,” Eglantine murmured and drained her cup.

Paladin joined them in the parlour after checking on his son. “He’s sleeping.”

“His piglet is tucked in firmly beside him.” Paladin nodded as he sank into a chair and reached for a cup of the chamomile tea Bilbo had brewed. “I do believe I even heard her snoring. Did you lads have a good day? Pippin didn’t wear you out, did he?” The question was asked with a perfectly straight face.

“Oh my stars, Uncle Pad, Pippin wear us out? How could that possibly happen?” Merry snorted with a roll of his eyes and a chuckle.

“No Pad,” Frodo said, recalling how they’d scrambled to keep up with the youngster all day, trying to keep one step ahead of him.

Pippin had collected frogs in his pockets, but lost them all inside the smial. He’d filled a can with wriggly worms for fishing, and then abandoned them on the back step in favour of playing ‘hide and seek’ with Merry. Frodo grimaced at the memory of squishing them all between his toes as he’d hurried out the door when Pippin shrieked, certain the youngster was injured. But as it turned out, he was simply expressing his delight upon spying a pair of kittens in the garden.

And then there had been the blueberries. Pippin had gathered them enthusiastically, stuffing most of them into his mouth rather than his bucket. He didn’t want to think about the berries, but the result had not been pretty. Afterwards, he’d made some of Bilbo’s special soothing tea for upset tummies and spent the next hour coaxing the lad into drinking all of it. And oh, yes, he couldn’t forget about the bee’s nest. . .

“Yes, he was charming, as usual, Uncle Pad. Why, before you came home Frodo and I were saying how sorry we were to see the day end,” Merry smirked.

Paladin’s eyes twinkled. “Is that so? Then you may be pleased to hear that we’ll be staying for one or two more days. Perhaps you both would be kind enough to keep him entertained again tomorrow while Bilbo and I take care of a few tasks?”

Merry stared at his uncle in alarm. “Umm,” he shot a helpless look at Frodo, who shrugged.

Bilbo laughed at the looks being traded. “Oh, I’m so pleased you’ve accepted my invitation to stay. You know I love having company, and I keep telling you it will do you good to have a respite from all the hard work you do, Pad.”

Paladin chuckled. “Tina encouraged me to spend more than one day with you. I wonder if it’s because she and our lasses enjoy a break from us lads once in awhile?”

“Well, either way, I think it’s splendid!” Bilbo reached for the teapot and refilled their cups.

Pippin stared at Tulip with one open eye. The knitted piglet stared back, unblinking. They’d been tricked! Worse, neither one of them had realised it. Pippin opened the other eye and sat up in bed. “You’re right. We never did get our story. I think they fooled us on purpose.”

Tulip begged to disagree. It had been entirely his fault for failing to catch the mistake in time. He’d fallen asleep, hadn’t he?

“Well, what shall we do about it?” He listened intently as the piglet’s floppy grin became one of sly mischief, and then giggled into his hand. “All right!”

Tucking his toy into his nightshirt he crept to the door and peered out. Cousin Bilbo was seated in his favourite chair talking quietly with Pippin’s father. Merry and Frodo were still up, and everyone was laughing over something that had been said. He wondered if they were telling a story now? Ever so cautiously he slipped through the crack. Dropping to his hands and knees he crawled into the parlour, pausing to shush Tulip when she chuckled over their plan.

Merry heard the creak of the door and waited to see where his cousin would pop up. The sound of scrambling feet and a low whisper made him stifle a laugh. No doubt Pippin was discussing his plans with Tulip and he’d soon be hiding in back of the couch again, listening to their conversation. Perhaps it would be fun to toy with him a little? Merry cleared his throat.

“Owls,” he repeated, almost feeling a little twinge of guilt at the soft gasp from behind the couch. “You know, big birds that sometimes roost in barns?”

“Yes, I’m aware of what an owl is, lad.” Paladin looked puzzled. “I don’t have anything against them. Why do you ask?”

“Well, what if there was an owl roosting in your barn? Would you be upset?” Merry laughed to himself, knowing full well that owls were of good use to a farmer.

With a squeak of alarm, Pippin bolted from his hiding place, flying straight into his father’s arms with a cry of protest. “Nooo! Please don’t hurt the wee owl, Da!”

“Merry, that was wicked of you,” Frodo scolded. “You knew Pippin was hiding behind us.”

Paladin calmed his child, drying his tears and settling him on his lap. Pippin clutched Tulip to his chest, his breath hitching. Paladin slipped a finger under his chin. “Now, what’s this all about, my lad?”

Pippin’s explanation came out in a rush and Paladin smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Pippin, listen to me. A barn owl is a good thing for a farmer.”

“It is?” Pippin sniffed and then hiccupped noisily, causing them all to laugh.

“It is. They keep mice away. I wouldn’t hurt the baby owl. And, I’m aware it’s been nesting in the barn for weeks now.”

“You have?” Pippin considered his father’s words. “Tulip says she’s not afraid of the owl anymore.” He held the piglet up and Paladin patted her head. Pippin sank against his father’s shoulder and glared at his cousin, tucking the piggy back inside his nightshirt. “Merry said he wouldn’t tell, and he did.”

“Pip, I already knew an owl in the barn has a good purpose, and I knew Uncle Pad wouldn’t make it leave.”

“Will you stop doing that?” Merry shrugged away and settled into the corner of the couch.

“Did you give the owl a name yet?” Paladin’s eyes twinkled. He knew perfectly well that his son named all of the animals he befriended.

Pippin nodded. He tossed a look at Merry before he got up on his knees and whispered in his father’s ear.

“Ah, so we’re not going to tell anyone what you named the owl?” Paladin winked at them over Pippin’s shoulder.

“Well. . .we can tell everyone but Merry.” With that, he stuck his tongue out as his cousin.

“Don’t stick your tongue out at others, Peregrin,” Paladin scolded. “That isn’t polite.”

“Hmph.” Pippin tilted his head, listening, and then pulled Tulip back out of his nightshirt. “You don’t have to scold me too,” he told the piglet. Tulip said he could probably use two reminders and she was always happy to oblige. Pippin shook his head from side to side. “No, I don’t need to be told twice!”

“So, what did you name the owl, Pip?” Frodo asked, trying to coax the youngster out of his pout.

Pippin grinned, his sudden moping just as quickly forgotten. “HOOTIE!” he shouted right next to Paladin’s ear, causing his father to wince.

“Lad, you’re going to deafen me for sure if you yell like that again! Pipe down, now.”

“What an original name, Pip! However did you think of it?” Merry gave a roll of his eyes.

“Because he always makes hoo-hoo-hoo sounds, and I like it.” He waved the piglet at them. “So does Tulip. She told me so.”

“YAY!” Pippin screeched in his father’s ear once more, bouncing up and down with unbridled glee. One foot dug sharply into Paladin’s lap and he grunted, swinging his small son up before Pippin could stomp on him again. He gave the youngster a mock glare.

“Lad, someday when you have a son of your own you’ll understand just how much that hurts!” Everyone laughed, and Pippin looked puzzled. Shrugging, he gazed up at his father beseechingly.

“Da, tell us a story? Please?” He held Tulip up. “Remember, we never got one earlier like Frodo promised.”

Paladin’s heart melted at the impish grin, and he drew him close. “What story do you think we should have?”

“Do you know a story about owls?” Merry chuckled and ducked as Frodo’s hand came sailing his way again.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you the tale of a small lad and a great goose,” Paladin said with an air of mystery.

“Tulip’s not certain she wants a story about Pansy,” Pippin murmured as he held the piglet up to voice her own opinion. “She still remembers what happened last summer after we lost Mum’s knitting needles and Pansy found them.”

“Oh, but this story is very amusing, and one I think you’ll both appreciate under the circumstances,” Paladin insisted, casting a meaningful glance at Merry. His nephew looked mystified.

Paladin grabbed the enthusiastic child just in time to avoid another kick from Pippin’s foot, and settled the youngster on his lap. “I’ll tell you the tale only if you agree to keep still while you remain on my lap! Is that a bargain?” Pippin bobbed his head in agreement and Paladin sighed in relief.

“All right then.” Paladin cleared his throat and winked at Bilbo. The old hobbit chuckled in understanding, nodding for him to continue.

“T’was not many years ago when my cousin Milo came to visit, bringing along something small that he’d tucked inside his shirt tail, and carrying it real careful like. I opened the door and found him standing there grinning at me like he had the most splendid secret to share with us! In he came, just as cheery as you please, and told your mum he’d been given a present, but he wanted her to have it instead. . .”

April 27, 2009

A/N: References made to my story, “Lily Took.”

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“Of Bread and Butter”

Pippin plunked Tulip on his shoulder and sauntered out of his bedroom. “Shh,” he warned as they crept past the kitchen door. He paused to sniff the air and pat his tummy. Tulip bobbed her head in agreement. The tantalizing scent of bread, fresh from the oven, had been filling the house for hours, and Pippin didn’t think he could stand to wait much longer for a taste. The aroma wafted past his nose, tickling it like a feather. His mother made bread every Mersday and it was his favourite day of the week.

Oh, how he took pleasure in the anticipation; from watching the dough rise slowly in the warm kitchen as the yeast worked hard to prepare the bread for baking, to spying on his mother and two eldest sisters while they mixed and kneaded, oiled and shaped, finally placing the loaves in the waiting pans to rise once again before placing them in the hot oven.

One of the most curious parts of the routine was when his mother would remark that it was time to ‘spank’ the bread. Eglantine would pinch off a ball from the huge, doughy mound in the kettle, kneading and smacking it, turning it over in her strong hands and repeating the process again and again. The gentle slaps to the fresh dough filled the kitchen with that delightful yeasty smell until Pippin was certain he would swoon from anticipation. He remembered asking once, when he was much younger, of course, if the bread had done something naughty? His mother had laughed and explained she patted the dough to remove any air bubbles that might have formed within.

‘Otherwise, my dear,’ she had told him, ‘all the loaves would have great tunnels inside and there would be less bread for you to eat!’

Pippin wasn’t certain that he entirely understood, but still, it was amusing to watch from his perch on a stool just inside the doorway (which was as close to the baking as his mother allowed him to come) as the dough was patted and poked, squeezed and pulled, and finally teased into the proper shape, and then dropped into the heavily oiled pans. Before popping them into the oven, his mother used a fork to poke more holes in the top.

Now, Pippin stared at the neat row of loaves waiting their turn to bake and eyed the ones that had already come out of the oven. He knew better than to sneak in and try snatching one of the hot rolls Pearl was placing on the rack to cool, after brushing them with the freshly churned butter. His mother always discouraged his presence when she was preoccupied with such a large task and a very hot oven.

Pippin twitched, wondering if he might get away with it just this one time. The aroma was growing overwhelming, and just how much could one small hobbit take, after all? He placed one foot in front of the other, poised to step into the kitchen when he felt the insistent tap of a knitted hoof on his shoulder. He slanted an innocent glance at his friend.

Tulip shook her head in warning, reminding him he was not allowed in the kitchen right now. He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well, at least we can look forward to supper tonight.” Pippin’s mouth watered, imagining the hot buttered bread melting in his mouth, and Tulip winked in agreement.

“All right, let’s get away from this wonderful smell, then!” He darted out of a side door and headed for the barn. “I have a very big surprise,” Pippin told her, and trotted along faster in his excitement.

The door was ajar and he slipped in, hurrying to the back of the barn where bales of hay were piled high. Tulip cocked her head in wonder at the soft mewling drifting out of the corner. Pippin knelt in front of one of the bales. He grinned, pointing at the blanket that lay balled up in a pile of soft straw next to it. Tulip raised an eyebrow and demanded to know just what his good blanket was doing out here in the barn? Didn’t he know his mother was going to have something to say about it?

“I knew you’d say that. But, look!” Pippin continued to grin as he raised a corner of the blanket and proudly displayed a brand new litter of kittens curled up inside. Tulip’s knitted heart softened at the sight and her eyes shone. Pippin nodded enthusiastically.

“I knew you’d understand!” He placed her next to them so she could get a better look. “Hullo, Snowflake,” he greeted the mother cat. The name had been a jest, started by Merry when the cat had found her way to the farm recently. She was jet black with only a touch of white specks on her underbelly and a few white spots around her nose. Pippin had taken great delight with Merry’s suggestion and had called her Snowflake, much to his older cousin’s amusement.

He patted the mother cat on the head and pointed to the five kittens tucked into the pocket around her belly. “Look Tulip!” A single, pure white kitten with fluffy long hair snuggled amongst the nest of dark her dark littermates.

“That one’s my special kitty and I’m going to call her Lily.” Tulip had to agree the name was appropriate. The kitten was as bright as a delicate white lily set against a background of dark garden soil, or in this case, the kitten's littermates!

Pippin giggled at her comparison. “That’s right. Her fur is the same colour as the flowers Mum grows in her garden.” He stroked her with careful fingers. “And she feels as soft as she looks.” He settled down next to the kittens and laid his head on the edge of the blanket, placing Tulip next to his cheek. “I hope Mum doesn’t mind too awfully that I gave my new blanket to Lily,” he confided in a whisper.

“Lily Took,” he mumbled sleepily a few minutes later. “The newest member of our family.”

His eyelids grew heavy as the gently purring cat slowly lulled him to sleep. Tulip settled in for a much needed nap. Soon, both hobbit lad and knitted piglet snored gently in unison while Snowflake watched them as she nursed her offspring. She knew this was a very special pair of friends and the perfect home for her little family. Tulip stirred and opened one eye to study her young master fondly, then looked up at Snowflake and winked one bright green embroidered eye conspiratorially.

Indeed, the perfect home and an exceptional family. Snowflake’s purr grew loud with contentment as she closed her eyes and joined them in peaceful slumber.

An hour or so later, the door creaked open once more. Quiet footsteps made their way across the barn floor in the dim light.

“Hullo! What’s this?” Paladin stumbled and almost fell over his small son, who lay curled up in a ball with his toy piglet tucked under his chin. The new additions to the family were sleeping nearby, snug and sound on Pippin’s new coverlet. He stifled a sigh. Eglantine wasn’t going to be pleased to find the blanket she had spent hours making for Pippin was now a bed for a freshly birthed litter of kittens. Snowflake acknowledged his look with an extra loud purr and a chirp, and he couldn’t help but grin.

Paladin paused for a moment to appreciate the loving scene before gently scooping the sleepy lad into his arms.

“Lily Took,” Pippin mumbled and sighed contentedly. His father brushed the silky hair from the youngster’s brow with a smile.

“Who is Lily Took?”

Pippin opened one eye and gazed at his father, yawning widely. “My kitty.”

“Oh?” Paladin raised an eyebrow in mock concern. “Did your mother say you could have another cat?”

“Lily’s not a cat. She’s a kitten!” Pippin twisted around in his father’s arms and pointed to the floor. “Look!”

Setting Pippin on his feet, Paladin knelt next to the mother cat. “Ah, and so Snowflake has a brand new litter, does she? They must have arrived sometime during the night.”

Pippin bobbed his head. “Five babies!”

“But what’s this?” Paladin pointed at the layer of colourful wool the kittens rested upon. “Isn’t that the new blanket your mum made for you?”

Pippin frowned. “Maybe. . .”

“Maybe? Mercy, I wouldn’t want to be the one to explain that to her. Better you than me, lad.”

Pippin’s eyes widened. “Do you think she’ll be very upset with me?”

His father pretended to consider the dilemma carefully. “Well, perhaps she’ll be more understanding when you explain what a good use you had for your blanket. She might even be proud of you because you were so concerned about a new mama and her comfort.”

“Do you really think so?” Pippin fidgeted, shuffling Tulip from one hand to the other, fretful now. Tulip squealed at his inconsiderate treatment and he started in surprise. “Oops, sorry, my lass,” he soothed, tucking the piglet inside his shirt.

Paladin watched with wry amusement, wondering if he had ever been that fanciful with his own favourite toy, Sammy Lambie. He laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I think she might be a little displeased at first, but I think she’ll get over it quickly when you tell her about Snowflake.”

Pippin brightened. “Tulip’s very pleased about the kittens, Da. She told me so. She’s already started naming them, but I told her my special kitty is going to be called Lily, and she agreed.”

“Oh?” Paladin gave the toy a pat on her head before leaning over to have a closer look. He stroked the head of the nearest kitten with a gentle finger while Snowflake kept a watchful eye. The kitten was a lovely, dark striped tiger with just a smudge of white on the tips of each front paw. It reminded Paladin of the pet he’d had many years ago when his own father had run the farm and he had been a mere sprout like Pippin. “Looks a great deal like old Tommy,” he murmured and sat back on his heels. “So, my boy – which one is Lily?”

Pippin wrinkled his brow. “Can’t you guess, Da? And who’s old Tommy?”

“My kitty. When I was a lad of about your age. He was very special. This kitten reminds me of him.”

“Oh!” Pippin knew an opportunity when he saw one and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Umm, can we keep them all?”

“What?” Paladin looked up in surprise. “There are five kittens here, Pip. Don’t you think we should share the wealth with others?”

Pippin shook his head. Paladin sighed. “Now, why didn’t I know you’d feel that way?”

“Perhaps Vinca would like to have one? And Pimpernel. Pearl too! And you could have a new Tommy?” Pippin pondered his idea briefly. “But, that wouldn’t leave one for Mum. . . I know! Pearl can share her kitten with Mum. Like I’m going to share Lily with Tulip. Then the whole family can stay together and not be separated. What do you think, Da?”

Paladin looked the litter over thoughtfully. “Well, we don’t know for sure that the new Tommy is a lad kitten. I’d have to have a lad in order to call him Tommy, ‘twouldn’t do, otherwise. Not many lasses would like to be called Tommy, I’ll wager.”

Pippin knelt next to his father and studied the kittens. “Well,” he ventured after several moments, “if they’re all lasses couldn’t you pick another name? The kitty could still make you think of old Tommy.”

“Hmm.” Paladin rubbed his chin, appearing to think this over. “I suppose that could be a possible solution to the problem. I didn’t have any choice about the matter when your mother kept having lasses herself, and I was the only lad in the house. That is, until you came along.” He slipped an affectionate arm around the youngster’s shoulders and squeezed.

“That’s true.” Pippin tilted his head. “But now you’re not the only lad, are you, Da? You have me!”

“Aye, you’re quite right, I do!”

“So, we can keep new Tommy, even is he turns out to be a lass?”

Paladin laughed. “I’ll think about it, Pippin.”

“But--!”

“And that’s the best you’re going to get from me at the moment. Come.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go tell your mother about Snowflake and her babies. We’ll ease the blanket part in as we go, all right?”

Pippin took his father’s hand with a grin. “Yes! And then we can tell her we have a surprise for Pearl, and Pimpernel, and Pervinca!”

“Hmm, it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

The pair started out of the barn, Pippin’s small hand clasped in his father’s larger, calloused one. “Mum and Pearl have been baking bread all day and I’m starving for some!”

“Me too! When I went by the kitchen a little while ago they were making strawberry jam to go with it.”

“My favourite!” Pippin hopped up and down as he skipped alongside. He pulled Tulip from his shirt. “Did you hear that, Tulip? Fresh bread and strawberry jam! Maybe even apple jelly and blackberry tarts!”

“Maybe,” Paladin agreed. “At the very least, plenty of fresh butter for those rolls! And I noticed a nice stew bubbling away on the stove.”

“Mmm! Did you hear that, Tulip?”

As they entered the farmhouse Pippin tugged on his father’s sleeve. Paladin bent low and Pippin whispered, “Lily is the only white kitty in Snowflake’s litter.”

“Oh? The only one, you say? I hadn’t noticed. I suppose I was simply too busy admiring my young Tommy the tiger.”

“Yes!” Pippin bobbed his head, with a grin. “You were, but that’s all right, Da. We’ll have fun naming the rest of them, too.” He slipped his hand back inside his father’s and squeezed it. He would get to keep all the kittens!

Paladin chuckled, and ruffled his son’s hair, knowing he’d allowed himself to be manipulated by the best. “Tell me – what makes you so certain that the white kitten is a lassie? Perhaps they’re all laddies, have you thought of that?”

Pippin shook his head emphatically. “Lily is a lass kitten.”

“You’re sure about that, eh? How do you know?”

Pippin shrugged. “I just do. That’s all.”

Paladin smiled down at the top of his son’s fair head. Well, and why not, he thought. After all, he’d known his kitty was a lad, all those years ago. He shook his head, laughing, and began preparing his argument for Eglantine to allow them to keep all the kittens. “Let’s go celebrate the new additions to the family with some of your mother’s excellent bread for our supper!”

Pippin shrieked with delight and ran into the kitchen, waving Tulip in the air. Paladin trailed after him, pondering the thought of five more cats in the barn. He had the feeling Eglantine would accept that idea much better than she would the news about Pippin’s new blanket. . .

***

Granny McClung’s Yeast-Raised Bread

10 Lbs White Flour

3 heaping tablespoons Salt

3 heaping tablespoons Sugar

2 cakes yeast, melted in cup of warm water (or you can use 2 packets of dry yeast)

2 LB Crisco shortening (approximately – I start with a 3 lb can and use a portion to grease the big pan the bread rises in, and melt some to oil all of the baking pans. I set aside a one-quart sauce pan with melted Crisco.

Real Butter – I make sure to have a whole pound on hand because you’ll need it to brush the tops of all the loaves and rolls, and plenty to use on the hot bread when ready to eat!

Warm water – 10-12 cups or so, amount will vary

Approximately 12 – 14 regular-size loaf pans, and a large biscuit pan to make the rolls in. I use a variety of pan sizes, ranging from miniature to extra long, but the recipe makes around a dozen regular sized loafs and a pan or 24 large rolls.

Well-greased, large capacity pan with tall sides (bread needs plenty of room to rise!)

You’ll need a clean, large, flat surface to prepare the dough.

1. Start by sifting all 10 lbs of the flour into a large pan. Make a ‘crater’ in the center of the flour and sprinkle around the spoonfuls of salt and sugar. You can use your fingers to mix the dry ingredients together until well distributed. (Bread making is a true “hands-on” experience!)

2. Spoon approx. 2 lbs (or 2/3 of a 3 lb can) of Crisco into the center hole and gradually add some of the warm water. Use your hands to squash and mix the shortening and flour together, adding more water as you go.

3. Pour in the cup of melted yeast.

4. Continue using your hands to mix in the water, shortening and dry ingredients until you have a large mound of moist dough. The dough should be moist, but not dripping, wet enough so it sticks to your fingers.

5. Sift a very generous amount of flour onto your working surface, then tip the pan up and push all of the dough onto it. Cover the mound with another generous sifting of flour and get ready to work hard! This is the fun part!

6. Knead the dough, adding more flour as the dough gets sticky, until at last you have worked in enough flour to keep it from being sticky. This takes some time to do, as the dough will take quite a lot of flour to get to this stage.

7. Continue kneading the dough, always working it from the outside in, as if you were folding it into itself. As the dough becomes properly prepared it will grow heavier as you go and it will take some effort to continue kneading and pushing it into itself.

8. You will know the dough is ready when it begins to “break”, meaning that as you knead inward, always adding flour, the outer portion of the mound will start to crack open slightly. Continue kneading until the separating is obvious, then stop kneading and punch it down into a big ball. The dough will be quite heavy at this point.

9. Lift the dough into the kettle (the one you have already greased and set aside earlier) and work it down a bit until the top is fairly smooth. Use your hand to spread a light coating of the melted Crisco over the top.

10. Cover the kettle with a large cloth, carefully tucking it around the pan at the bottom. The dough should be kept warm while it rises, so it’s a good idea to place the kettle on a stovetop with the oven set to warm, low temperature.

11. Allow several hours for the dough to rise. This process will work better if you keep your kitchen warm. (A good time to build a wood fire if you happen to have a woodstove!)

12. When the dough has risen above the edges of the kettle it’s time to proceed. Dip your hands in some of the melted Crisco and lightly punch the dough down. The mound will ‘deflate’ and you can knead it in the pan, adding a little more oil as you work it into the bread.

13. Carefully pinch off the appropriate amount to fit in the bread pan and again, always working inward, pat, pull, knead the dough into the proper oblong shape. You will feel air bubbles as you do this and it’s a good thing to carefully squeeze as much of the air out as you can, or you will wind up with lots of tunnels in your loaves! (The gentle slapping and patting the dough down was what my granny always referred to as ‘spanking the bread’!)

14. Place each loaf in pan, spread a bit of the oil on top, and use a fork to poke some air holes in the tops (again, to lessen the amount of air bubbles).

15. Cover the loaves of bread with a big towel and place them on a warm surface. Again, allow them to rise. This generally takes about 2 hours in a warm kitchen.

16. After the loaves have risen to round over the edges of their pans, place up to 3 at a time in the oven with temperature set at450 degrees. The lower rack should be up one tier to prevent burning on the bottom, as this is a rather hot oven.

*Each batch of loaves will take around half an hour to bake. Remove them carefully and dump each loaf out onto a toweled surface (The old-fashioned tea towels work well for this purpose and are what my granny always used. They will become greasy and it’s good to keep a set of these towels solely for bread making.) Brush the tops with melted butter and allow to cool with tea towel draped lightly around to keep moist. Rolls are made in much the same way as loaves. Remember to knead them inward and place them in the pan so the edges are touching.

Brace yourself for the inevitable stampede into your kitchen, and be sure to have the melted butter ready for your eager family!

A/N: In loving memory of my beloved Granny, a southerner from Tennessee, who would have turned 104 today, April 27th. The process of making bread described in this story is much like it was in her big, bright, country kitchen of many years ago. I recall eagerly watching the process, appreciating the wonderful aroma of the bread and the merry crackling of the wood fire in the big cook stove, and waiting impatiently for the bread to bake, in the same way Pippin does. And, just like Pippin, I was full of curiosity and questions about the process and would listen for hours to her fanciful stories of cooking, baking, canning, and gardening. In addition to being an awesome cook, she was an even better storyteller, in the true, old Appalachian tradition. Finally, the results of her hard day’s work (and it WAS hard work!) were made perfect with the addition of her homemade strawberry, blackberry, and apple, preserves and jellies, served along with her own hand-churned butter – a wee taste of heaven on earth, and still one of my very best childhood memories. Perhaps this is one reason I identify so well with Hobbits?!!

Paladin cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Cousin Milo had brought a surprise for Eglantine, all done up in his shirt tail, and when I opened the door he --”

“Well, yes, but you were just a wee sprout at the time. Your cousin, on the other hand, may remember it.”

Merry noticed the gleam in his uncle’s eye and grew suspicious. “What do you mean? I don’t recall any story about Pansy that includes me.”

“Oh, perhaps it will come back to you as I tell it. Your little cousin here was just a babe in arms at the time,” Paladin jiggled Pippin up and down on his knee before continuing, “so that would have made you only around ten years old.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to find this story very flattering?” Merry frowned.

“Now lad, why would you think such a thing?” Paladin’s mouth twitched in amusement.

Merry eyed his uncle, his suspicion growing. “Because you have that look that adults always get when they know something I don’t.”

“That’s because he does!” Pippin laughed and held out his piggy. “Tulip says you have a funny look on your face and she wants to know why.” He held the toy up to his ear and then grinned. “Tulip thinks you did something naughty. Did you, Merry?”

“How should I know when I don’t even remember whatever it is Uncle Paladin is talking about?” Merry said with a roll of his eyes.

“I don’t understand how you could have forgotten. You were so excited at the time,” Frodo said, and ruffled his hair. Merry shrugged away and folded his arms in a defiant gesture, an uncharacteristic pout on his face.

“Oh, my dear boy, it’s not that bad,” Bilbo told him kindly, taking pity on the youth. “It really is an amusing story.”

“It seems you’re able to tell tales on others, but you can’t take a little teasing yourself?” Frodo admonished him. Merry sat up a little straighter, tossing a frown at him.

“Certainly I can. Go ahead, Uncle Pad. What happened that involved Pansy and me so long ago?”

Paladin sat back with a chuckle, settling his son on his lap. “Well, as I was saying, Milo reached under his shirt with a flourish and presented Tina with an egg. Ah, I remember the look of surprise on her face. ‘Why, whatever are you doing carrying around such a lovely big goose egg?’ she asked him with a twinkle in her eyes.” Paladin laughed. “And Milo said, ‘Well, Tina, I knew just how much you’d been wanting a nice goose! So, when Iris told me the tragic story of how her Petunia simply flopped over and died quite unexpectedly, and whilst sitting a nest, no less, why, I decided to bring one of her eggs to you!’ And, oh! how Tina giggled when she took the egg from him--”

Merry shook his head and Paladin continued. “So, your aunt accepted the gift and tended to the egg lovingly, as is her way, and we all know that. And not long after, Pansy came along to join our family--”

“No wonder she only likes Mum! Mum hatched her!” Pippin started to bounce and his father quickly stilled him with a firm hand on each shoulder.

“Pansy followed your mother everywhere,” Paladin continued. “They say whoever a goose lays eyes on when its born is the one she becomes most attached to. I guess in this case it was certainly the truth. Pansy still follows Tina around thinking she’s her mama.”

“Not too long after Pansy joined us, Merry, you and your parents came to pay us a visit and a few of your cousins came along too. And, being the rambunctious lads they were, they immediately began looking for something to amuse them. Merry, you tagged along after Murdoc and Derimac like Pippin does with you. Anyway, they got to scheming--”

“So it was Murdoc and Derimac who did something naughty? Not Merry?” Pippin looked disappointed.

“No one did anything truly naughty, lad. They were just having a bit of fun, that’s all.” Paladin chuckled at the expression on Pippin’s face, and tapped the youngster’s nose with his finger.

“Oh. All right. Then what happened?” Pippin settled into his father’s arm and waited.

“Well,” Paladin began, with a glance at Bilbo, “Frodo and Bilbo were also visiting us and--”

“That was a lot of guests all at once,” Pippin observed. He twirled Tulip’s corkscrew tail around his finger thoughtfully, considering. “Did anyone have to sleep on the floor? Or in the barn? What about breakfast? I bet you couldn’t get a word in edgewise, like Mum says, with all those people talking at once and-- ”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Pippin!” Merry exclaimed. “Will you let your father tell the story please?”

“I thought you didn’t want to hear it?” Pippin started to stick his tongue out and then thought better of it when his father cleared his throat.

“Yes, you’d better stop chiming in because it’s getting very late and you’re already up way past your bedtime,” Paladin warned.

“Anyway! No one slept in the barn,” Paladin interrupted, placing a hand over his son’s mouth, “Or on the floor, either. And Cousin Bilbo told the children tales every night before bed. Problem was, the other lads began to ponder over some of dear Bilbo’s adventurous stories.”

Bilbo laughed. “Indeed they did. I believe they took role playing to new heights that week.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure they did. Most especially after the night you told the tale of the goose that laid the golden eggs! Derimac and Murdoc came up with an idea for a prank they thought was too good to pass up. And they decided to include Merry in their mischief because they probably knew he would be easy to fool. After all, he was just a little lad, and he adored his older cousins.”

Paladin stopped and looked over at his nephew. Merry was obviously thinking furiously, and the first stirring of memory was evident on his face.

“So, you do remember, eh?” Bilbo reached over and gave him an understanding pat him on the knee.

Merry groaned, his cheeks flushing. “Yes, sort of. I remember they tried to make me believe something that wasn’t true.”

“How were you supposed to know that a goose really couldn’t lay golden eggs?” Paladin laughed. “Remember, all of the younger children thought the same thing.”

“Yes, they were quite taken with my story, although,” Bilbo coughed politely into his hand, “I’m afraid they didn’t expect it to end the way it did. It was rather shocking for the other children. I recall that little Myrtle Took even cried and had to be put to bed with her older sister that night.”

“I’m sure the ending only served to make the prank all the more enticing,” Frodo said.

“Yes, no wonder the youngsters didn’t sleep well,” Paladin agreed. “And especially poor Merry here! Esmie told me he crawled into bed with her and Saradoc after having a bad dream.”

Merry groaned and plunked his head into his hands. “They pretended they were going to do the same thing to Pansy,” he said from between his fingers.

“Yes, now that was rather thoughtless, wasn’t it?” Bilbo shook his head. “They really got everyone worked into a state.”

“Yes, it was wicked of them,” Paladin grinned. “Reminded me of something I would have done at that age.”

“Now don’t you go getting any ideas of your own, lad,” Paladin warned with a shake of his finger.

“I remember I was frantic thinking they were going to slay Pansy to get all of the golden eggs, so I charged right over to them and tried to rescue her -and she bit me!” Merry held up his right hand, examining the small, crescent-shaped scar thoughtfully. “That was the last time I ever went near that goose. And she’s still terrorizing folk, even in her old age.”

“Yes indeed,” Paladin shook his head. “Nasty nip she gave you, at that. I remember how frightened you were, and how you still wanted your father’s reassurance that Pansy wasn’t going to lay a golden egg and be slain after all.”

“As if I had much of a care what happened to that goose after she nearly bit my hand off,” Merry grumbled.

“You probably frightened her.” Frodo slid down in his chair with a snicker. “Poor Pansy. It must have been awfully difficult keeping those golden eggs a secret.”

Pippin giggled. “Tulip thinks you’re funny, Frodo!” He waggled the stuffed piglet in his cousin’s direction. “Merry? Did you really think Pansy was going to lay a golden egg? That’s so silly! Tulip says that we know that doesn’t happen.”

Merry sniffed at Pippin’s teasing. “Derimac and Murdoc were very convincing, Pip. Anyway, I get it, Uncle Pad. The moral of this story is it’s not nice to prank your little cousin and make him cry.”

“Or, what goes around comes around, eventually, eh?” Paladin winked. “But it was quite amusing to watch the youngsters searching for golden eggs next day! The lads continued to get a rise from them, that is, until Gorminas stepped in and put a stop to their nonsense.”

“Yes, their father wasn’t awfully pleased with them by that time, upsetting all the younger ones like they had.” Bilbo rubbed his chin in thought. “But I seem to recall there was a surprise ending of some sort. Hmm, what was it, now. . .?”

“Oh, that was my part in the mischief.” Paladin jostled his son up and down once more, causing him to shriek with laughter. “Do you want to know why?”

Bilbo and Frodo started to laugh. “Whatever is so amusing?” Merry looked from one to the other.

“I pretended to find them in one of the hens’ nests and gave them to Murdoc and Derimac in secret. Naturally, they gawked at the wondrous discovery that there really was such a thing as a golden egg after all! And then, I told them the eggs belonged to a uncommon kind of chicken and the hatchlings would be pure gold in colour.”

“Aye,” Paladin said, a twinkle in his eyes, “so I sent them home with two of the eggs and said they should watch closely for those colourful chickens to hatch. Gorminas played right along with me, of course. He thought it was quite the proper turning of the tables on his lads, for their mischief towards Merry and the other children. He told me later the boys spent the next week barely leaving the eggs alone while they tended and turned them, keeping them warm, waiting for the remarkable chickens to arrive.”

“I heard they were a very nice pair of golden ducklings though, eh, Pad?” Bilbo gave a snort of laughter.

Paladin nodded. “And I’ll wager those two know the difference between a golden egg and a yellow duck, now!” He set Pippin on his feet and then stretched and yawned. “Time for bed, lads.”

“Yes indeed,” Bilbo agreed, rising slowly from his chair and hoisting the lamp.

Paladin took his son’s hand and stopped in mid-step, listening. “Why, is that frog song I hear?”

Wee Ones by cathleen