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

Quite some time ago, I came upon a plot bunny that had been 'donated' to Shirebound's plot bunnies by Lindelea and I decided to try and write something using that bunny as a starting point.

The bunny was: When approaching Farmer Maggot's house, Pippin tells Frodo that the good farmer is a good friend of Merry’s. How did this come about?

And this is the story that came from that bunny. As it happens, Lindelea was generous enough to Beta this one for me. So those of you who have read her wonderful stories may recognize a bit of her style in this. With thanks to Shirebound for listing this bunny and to Lindelea for donating it and for the Beta, here is the tale.

(The portion of this story in bold type is taken directly from “A Shortcut to Mushrooms” in The Lord of The Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.)

“Turn around and go home this instant!” Merry said, narrowing his eyes and glaring at his younger cousin. “I told you not to follow us and I meant it. Now, go home, Pippin!”

“I can come this way down the road if I want,” Pippin said, his voice sounding less firm than he would have liked. “Tis’ a public road and anyone in the Shire can come this way.”

“You aren’t just coming this way. You are following us,” Merry said. ‘Now, go home before you get us all into trouble. Go on!”

Merry turned to follow the others and Pippin stopped for a moment and watched them. He let them get a few steps ahead and then resumed his pursuit. He dared not let them get too far ahead or they would lose him for sure. They were taller and had longer legs. It was hard enough to keep up with them when he was actually invited to come along. Running behind after them was even more difficult. He’d been trying to keep up with them ever since they’d left the Hall early this morning after first breakfast and he was determined not to lose them now.

Merry had caught up to Berilac and Falco and the three of them were walking along with their heads close together. They were plotting. Pippin wished desperately that he could hear what they were saying and that he was in on the planning. He continued to tag along after them at what he thought of as a safe distance wishing desperately that he were older like Merry.

The others ignored him until they had reached their destination and then the three older lads turned on him. “You need to get back up to that Hall, now,” Falco said, sternly.

“I can come,” Pippin objected. “I’m a fast runner and I won’t slow you down, I promise.”

“You are too little for this sort of thing, and my grandmum could out-run you,” Falco said.

“Go on, Pip-Squeak,” Berilac said with a sneer. “If you’re a good little lad, then maybe Merry will play with you later.”

“You look twelve,” Berilac said. “But either way you need to go on home. You’ve no business following tweens about like a little puppy.”

“I do not look twelve!” Pippin said, straightening to his full, if unimpressive, height.

“Yes, well, you aren’t exactly twenty now, are you?” Falco said, more gently than Berilac.

“Go home, Pip-Squeak, and let Merry have a few minutes when he doesn’t have to be a baby-minder,” Berilac said.

“Then quit acting like one and go home,” Merry said, speaking for the first time. “Go on, now. This doesn’t concern you. Besides, if Mum finds out you crossed the Brandywine on your own, you’ll be in serious trouble.” Merry put a stern look on his face and tried to sound convincing.

“You just don’t want me coming because you’re planning to steal some of Farmer Maggot’s vegetables! What will your mum say when she finds that out? How much trouble will you be in then?” Pippin said, loudly.

“See?” Berilac groaned. “I told you that you couldn’t trust him. He’ll get us all caught with that loud mouth of his and we haven’t even done anything yet! I thought you told old Otis not to ferry him across!”

Pippin glared at Merry who shrugged and answered Berilac. “I did. I told Otis that Pippin wasn’t allowed to cross the river without supervision and I also told him that he shouldn’t bring Pippin across.”

“Well, he didn’t listen to you, did he?” Berilac said, with a look at Pippin.

“I told him I had a message from Uncle Saradoc for Merry and he brought me over right quick then,” Pippin said, smiling. “He was sure he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of the Master.”

“You’ll get Old Otis let go from his post if you keep that up,” Merry said. “He’s not too sharp-witted and running the Ferry is about all he can do, Peregrin Took. If Doc gets wind that you are able to trick Otis that easily, then he’ll have no choice but to post someone else on the Ferry and then what will happen to Otis?”

Pippin looked stricken. He liked Otis even if some of the local lads did tease the old hobbit. “I just wanted to come with you, Merry,” Pippin said. “I don’t want Otis to get into trouble.”

“Well, he will if you don’t quit being too clever for your own good!” Merry said, sternly. “Now, you know the rules. You’re to stay near the Hall and away from the river unless you’re with me or an adult.”

“I am with you, in a way,” Pippin said, twisting his toe in the dust of the road and eyeing Merry hopefully.

“Maybe we’d better do this another time,” Falco sighed. “He’ll tell on us.”

“I can see it all now,” Berilac sighed. “If we don’t let him come then he plans to tell on us, but if we do let him come he’ll get us caught for sure.”

“Pippin wouldn’t do that; would you, Pip?” Merry asked, sounding a bit desperate. The other two were older than he was and he didn’t want to get left behind because of Pippin. “You wouldn’t tell out of spite, would you?”

“No, but please let me come, Merry,” Pippin begged. “I won’t get you caught. I run really fast now that I’m taller.”

“Taller?” Falco snorted looking down on him. “You’re not taller than any of us, are you?” He then turned to Merry and said, “Come on if you’re coming, Merry. You can play with the little lad or you can come with us. Your choice.” He turned and put an arm about Berilac’s shoulders and the two of them started off. Now Merry was the one being left behind.

“Sorry, Pip,” Merry said. “You really are just too little for this. Now get on back to the Hall or I’ll tell Doc about Old Otis and you. We’ll trade tales and see who spends the most time in Coventry!” He then turned away and ran to catch up to the others.

Frustrated and hurt, Pippin began walking slowly back up the road. It was a long way back to the Hall. He should tell on them. He should tell on them all and it would serve them right if he did. No one would blame him. After all, they had left him out of things and insulted him and so he didn’t really owe them his loyalty. He sighed heavily and sat down beside of the road under a tree, pulling his knees up under his chin. He hoped that they all got caught!

After they had gone a few steps, Merry ventured to look back and was relieved to see that Pippin was no longer trailing after them.

“Looking for something, Merry?” Falco said, raising an eyebrow. “Or someone?”

“I was just making sure that he wasn’t still following us, that’s all,” Merry said. “He can be a pest that way,” he continued in an effort to convince Falco and Berilac that he found Pippin annoying.

“I don’t know how you put up with him. Even though his folks do saddle your parents with him half of the time, that still shouldn’t be your problem,” Berilac said disgusted.

Merry’s hands fisted at his side but he held his tongue. It was his natural impulse to defend Pippin but he knew that doing so now would get him sent home as well. This was the first time he’d been included in one of these raids and he didn’t want to miss out. He’d heard the older lads tell of this sort of thing and he had always wanted to go on a garden raid. In fact, it would be fun to brag to Frodo the next time that his saw his older cousin. (He wondered if Frodo had ever done anything as daring as this?) If he defended Pippin then he’d miss his chance. “What do we do first?” Merry asked the others in an effort to shift the topic away from Pippin.

“Well, the first thing you need to know is that it is every hobbit for himself,” Falco said. “If any one of us gets caught we don’t tell on the others and the others are just to keep on running back to the Hall and act as if they were never near the place. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Merry said. “No reason for everyone to get caught just because one of us does.”

Falco patted him on the shoulder and grinned. “You have the right of it, Merry. Now, remember; if you’re caught, you’re on your own. You can make up whatever tale you like as long as it doesn’t involve either of us. If you can talk your way out of trouble then that’s fine, but if not, you take whatever he dishes out and say nothing about us.”

“Of course I won’t,” Merry said. “I’ve been in trouble lots of times on my own. I know how to take responsibility for it. If I get caught, I won’t tell on either of you. But if you get caught, then I don’t want you telling on me.”

Falco laughed. “Don’t worry, Merry, I never get caught. Berilac did that once, but he kept his mouth shut about me and Freddy.”

“Because of last time,” Berilac grinned. “Freddy is afraid of the dogs.”

Merry remembered others mentioning Maggot’s dogs. Merry liked dogs and animals in general. He wasn’t worried about the dogs, really. He was a bit surprised that Freddy was, though. It didn’t sound like him. He wondered if there were many dogs in Budgeford. Maybe Freddy just wasn’t used to dogs. Merry’s father always kept dogs and so Merry was very good with them.

“You just be quiet and quick and you’ve no need to fear the dogs,” Falco said. “A couple of them are getting old and are kind of slow anyway. Pippin just might have managed to out-run them.”

“They aren’t that slow,” Berilac snickered. “Just don’t hesitate to run if you hear anything coming your way, Merry. I don’t care what Falco says about those dogs; even if they are old they still have enough teeth to give you a good reason to run.”

Merry nodded. For some reason, the mention of the dogs’ teeth made him shiver. It might have been something that Frodo had told him once, but he wasn’t altogether sure just now and there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

They were now standing before a gate located in the center of a wide hedge that surrounded the Maggot property. The others were moving toward the hedge. He knew that soon they would be in the actual garden itself and then there could be no more questions and no more talking.

Falco turned to Merry and took him by the shoulders. Even though Merry was younger by several years, they stood eye to eye. Merry had always been tall for his age which helped him to fit in with the older lads. He, unlike Pippin, looked older than he was.

“Now,” Falco whispered. “We shall see what sort of garden-raider you are, Merry.” He fixed Merry with an intense stare and continued in the same low whisper. “Keep your head down, your eyes open, and your mouth shut. Don’t take more than you can carry and don’t pick anything that isn’t ripe enough to eat. If we all do a proper job, then we should have feast enough for all three of us and with Farmer Maggot none the wiser. You just need to be alert for any unusual sounds and don’t go too far in. The closer you stick to the hedges, the less likely you are to get caught.”

Merry grinned, anxious to prove himself to the others. “I’ll be fine, Falco. You don’t need to worry about me,” he assured him, softly.

Berilac smiled. He had helped talk Falco into letting Merry come along and he was pleased to see that his younger cousin was making a good impression. If Merry looked good, then he would look good for recommending that Merry be allowed to come along. Pippin had nearly spoiled everything earlier, but Berilac was relieved to see that the little hobbit’s begging had not swayed Merry. Merry had held firm. This was going to go splendidly.

The three of them moved apart, ignoring the gate and taking different paths over the hedge into the garden. They figured this would reduce the risk of all of them getting caught and increase the chances of gathering a wider variety of vegetables. It wasn’t wise to go in all at the same place; then everyone came back with the same thing. Tomatoes were wonderful, but it was even better if you managed to get some carrots and cabbage to go along with them.

As he slid into the garden, Merry could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising and he absently rubbed at the goose flesh on his arms. His palms were sweating and every small sound seemed to be magnified three times over. He crouched low and moved with care into a lovely patch of carrots. The garden was lush and green and smelled sweet. He inhaled deeply, taking a moment to admire Farmer Maggot’s skill as a grower, and then moved forward with near-silent steps, being careful not to tread on any of the plants.

Merry listened for intently to be sure that all was quiet and then knelt down and began to select some of the larger carrot plants, pulling a few from the rich soil. He enjoyed the moment when each sweet, orange carrot popped from the ground. He smiled broadly as he put the carrots into the sack that was slung over his shoulder. Berilac had told him that it was best to come prepared with a way to carry out your “take”. Merry could hear his cousin’s voice saying, “It’s a sore trial to find that you’ve come upon a fine crop of mushrooms and have no means to carry them.”

Merry realized that he was getting too many carrots and that if he hoped to impress the others and be allowed to come again, he ought to move to something else. He stepped away from the carrot patch and began moving off toward a patch of mushrooms. He bent down and began to fill his bag with them. He was feeling much more confidant now with a sack half full of carrots, and mushrooms added into the mix. His palms had stopped sweating and that little prickling at the base of his skull no longer troubled him. This was easy!

He began to search for the choicest mushrooms. His mum had taught him how to do this when he had been a very small lad, in an effort to keep him from eating something harmful. There was an art to selecting mushrooms. Of course, there’d hardly be any harmful mushrooms growing in Maggot’s fields, but his mother’s careful instructions also came in handy for selecting the best of the best! “Remember, Merry darlin’, not all mushrooms are safe to eat. You have to be very careful, and even with the safe ones you want to take only the freshest.” He could still hear her voice and it gave him a slight pang of guilt. This was hardly the time to be thinking about his mum. She would certainly not be happy with him if she could see him now. He quickly pushed this image from his mind and continued gathering the mushrooms.

Now, if Merry could just find one other vegetable, he suspected that his share of the raid would be hailed a success. He began to cut across a row of broccoli plants in search of another crop. He hated broccoli and so he was certainly not planning to take any of that. As he moved across the field, the breeze lifted the lovely growing smells into the warm, summer air.

Farmer Maggot certainly had a large farm. Merry felt that he might never reach the end of it and that nagging prickling feeling was returning. He was too far in and Falco had warned him not to go too far. Confused and suddenly nervous, Merry decided to turn around and head back toward the carrot patch. Two vegetables would just have to be enough to impress the older lads, and certainly the mushrooms would make up for any lack. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this. It was time to move back to the hedge.

Berilac was leaning against a tree just outside of the hedge munching on a handful of sweet peas when Falco climbed over with a full sack and a smile on his face.

Falco ambled over as if they were in their own back yard with no worries and replied, “Some lovely tomatoes, a few potatoes for roasting, some radishes, and some peas, but you already seem to have some of those.”

“Not a bad day’s take,” Berilac said around a mouth full of Farmer Maggot’s peas. “Wonder what Merry will find?”

“I just hope he’s back here soon,” Falco said. “Did I remember to tell him to keep his raid short?”

“I’m not sure,” Berilac said. “I would think he’d know not to mess about for too long in there anyway. Merry’s clever. I’m sure he’ll be along in a few minutes. He’s probably just enjoying himself.”

“Yes, well, too much of that will get him caught,” Falco sighed, snatching some of Berilac’s stolen peas and popping them into his mouth.

At that moment, a grinning Merry was making his way back toward them. He had no idea what had made him nervous a few minutes earlier. The weight of his sack against his shoulder reminded him just how simple all of this had been so far. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure why this sort of thing was considered to be so daring. It had all been a bit of a let down as far as he was concerned. There had been no excitement to this except for a few minutes after he’d crossed the hedge, and that had been largely due to his own inexperience. He’d been apprehensive, but now his worries seemed unfounded. Pippin could have done this!

He was nearly back to the carrot patch when he spotted something. It couldn’t be! Strawberries! Merry loved strawberries and here, just in front of him, was an entire patch of them, and each of them looked more ripe and juicy than the next. Forgetting his plan for a quick escape, Merry bent down and began to pick the strawberries. They were gloriously ripe and ready for picking. Forgetting himself completely, he popped a large berry into his mouth and savored the taste.

Grinning, he decided to take more than he would need for himself and the others. He would surprise Pippin with the extras and that should make up for his earlier treatment of his younger cousin. Pippin would forgive him for everything once he had tasted these berries. Merry sighed as a bit of guilt wormed its way into his thoughts. Pippin would forgive him without the strawberries. Pippin always forgave him. He quickly put that thought out of his mind and helped himself to another strawberry. He was eating nearly as many as he was putting into his sack.

He had just bitten down on a particularly sweet berry and was allowing the juice to trickle down his throat when a hand fell on his shoulder; he felt the pressure as the fingers tightened.

“They any good this year?” a rough voice asked just inches from his ear. “Haven’t had any yet myself, so I’m curious ‘bout how they are. What do you think?”

The berry instantly went sour in Merry’s mouth and he swallowed hard. It felt as if he might choke on the pulp. Suddenly, the sweetness was gone and the berry seemed to be lodged in his throat. He gasped and forced it down.

“What’s the matter? They ain’t sour are they? I hate sour berries myself,” the voice said as the hand on his shoulder pulled him to his feet. He felt himself being turned around and found that he was looking into the weathered face of Farmer Maggot.

Merry struggled to say something but nothing would come out. He wanted desperately to run but he felt as if someone had planted his feet in the soil beneath him almost as deeply as Farmer Maggot’s carrots. The sack slid from his shoulder and landed next to his frozen feet.

Merry hadn’t noticed them before. There were two of them, one standing on either side of Farmer Maggot and now both of them were barking loudly at Merry. Merry pulled back a bit but the farmer held him in place.

“Don’t move or I’ll let them have you,” Maggot said, with a nod toward the dogs.

Merry’s mind reeled with images of large canine fangs and the angry face of his father. He felt as if he was surrounded by the dogs and that they were coming closer to him with each bark, though neither of them had moved. Merry’s heart pounded in his chest. His breathing came in short gasps. His vision blurred and Farmer Maggot’s face swam before his eyes and then faded. He felt his knees giving out on him.

Falco put his hand on Berilac’s shoulder and groaned. They both heard it at the same time. Farmer Maggot’s dogs were after something or someone and that someone was most likely Merry Brandybuck. “Run, Berilac,” Falco instructed and the two took off down the road at full speed.

“He knows the rules,” Falco replied. “You do too, but if you want to risk your neck and go back, I won’t stop you.”

“Not me,” Berilac said, and the two continued to run for safety, leaving Merry to deal with Farmer Maggot on his own. It looked as if Merry’s first garden raid was going to be more than he’d bargained for. Now, Berilac could only hope that Merry would keep his word and not give them away.

Pippin could hear someone coming, and coming fast. He stood up from his spot underneath the tree and watched, as Falco and Berilac approached him, running for all they were worth. “Where’s Merry?” Pippin yelled out.

“Dogs probably have him,” Berilac said as they stopped in front of Pippin, panting for breath and loaded down with vegetables.

“You don’t understand how these things work, Pip Squeak,” Falco sighed, straightening up. “It’s every hobbit for himself and it seems as if Merry got caught.”

“You have to help him!” Pippin objected, looking up at Falco. “It was his first time! You’re supposed to show him how it’s done!”

“You don’t know anything about this,” Berilac said. “Now, if you’re as smart as Merry is always saying that you are, you’ll get your scrawny self away from here before you’re mixed up in something you had no part in.”

“Run on home and don’t say anything to Merry’s parents about this,” Falco said. “Merry will get himself out of trouble or Farmer Maggot will bring him home directly. He wouldn’t let the dogs eat Merry.”

“Those are the rules,” Falco said. “I’d expect him to leave me if things were reversed.”

“He wouldn’t leave either of you,” Pippin said. “You’re both a couple of cowards!”

“I’m going after Merry!” Pippin declared and began to run in the direction from which they had come.

“Get him, before he gives us all up!” Berilac shouted, but Falco grabbed his arm.

‘Let him go,” he said. “He won’t go far and he won’t have the nerve to go into the garden. You and I need to get out of here and hide these vegetables before anyone comes looking for us. How do you think it will look if we are caught boarding the Ferry with loaded sacks?”

Berilac groaned and watched Pippin run out of sight. For some reason he felt stung by the younger lad’s words but he didn’t have the nerve to own up to his part in all of this and so he fell into step with Falco as he led them off of the road, into the trees, and out of sight. “Pippin’s right. We are cowards,” he sighed, but Falco either hadn’t heard him or was ignoring him just now.
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For some reason, Merry was lying on his back in the dirt. He raised slowly up onto his elbows and looked at the dogs. He realized that he must have fainted and his misery was now complete. Not only had he managed to get caught, but he had also fainted like a lass.

Merry marveled at the way the dogs continued to growl at him while wagging their tails for Farmer Maggot. The dogs that his father kept out in the barns near Brandy Hall were nothing like this. They were sweet-faced soft-eyed creatures that licked your hands and would fetch a well-thrown stick. These weren’t even like the sheep dogs that he and Pippin played with out near Pippin’s family’s farm. Those animals were clever, but gentle. Farmer Maggot’s dogs did not seem at all gentle. They might be intelligent, but there was no gentleness about them, no, not at all.

“So, what have you to say for yourself, young thief?” Farmer Maggot asked, eyeing Merry from underneath a wide-brimmed hat.

“No?” Farmer Maggot said, eyeing the fallen sack once more. “Then I suppose that those are your vegetables from your very own garden, aren’t they?”

“I thought as much,” Farmer Maggot said, looking closer at Merry. “You’re the Master’s lad, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Merry nearly whispered. He was hardly bringing honor on the family name at this moment, and for the first time in his life, it was painful to admit who he was. He had always been proud of his family and position but now he felt only shame.

“Well, don’t think that will get you any special treatment,” Farmer Maggot said. “I’ve dealt with lads from the Hall before and as far as I’m concerned, a thief is a thief no matter who his father is.”
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Pippin reached the end of the road and found himself looking at Farmer Maggot’s gate in the middle of a neat hedge. He didn’t hear any dogs, and he didn’t see Merry anywhere. If Merry had managed to get away then he should have come out onto the road just like Berilac and Falco had only he hadn’t seen Merry at all.

Pippin sighed and screwed up his courage. He climbed over the gate and into the garden. He couldn’t find Merry standing on the road. He’d have to search the garden or give up and go home. He couldn’t leave Merry like the others had done and so the only thing to do was to look for his older cousin in Farmer Maggot’s fields.

He had no idea where to begin but he supposed that he might as well see if he could find Farmer Maggot’s house. He suspected that if the farmer had Merry that he would probably take him there or to Brandy Hall. He straightened his shoulders and began to walk away from the hedge.

One of Farmer Maggot’s sons joined him at that moment and frowned. “That’s the third one in a week,” he spat, looking at Merry in disgust. “When is the Master going to do something about this?”

“Oh, I think you might want to ask this one here about that, lad,” the farmer said, with a nod toward Merry. “It seems that this is the Master’s son right here in our strawberry patch. I suspect that might be your answer there.”

Farmer Maggot’s son shook his head. “So, we’ll be needin’ more dogs and a much higher hedge.”

“That may be the right of it but we’ve no call to judge what the Master of the Hall will do based on the actions of this youngster,” Farmer Maggot sighed. “I’ve always believed the Brandybucks to be fine and upright folk, and the folk of the Marish have looked to the Master for a long time. There is no way to know what will come of this just yet. Just because his lad is up to mischief it doesn’t mean that the Master won’t do what is proper. Still this ain’t exactly a good sign.” Merry wanted to protest, but miserably he realized how his own actions were the cause. Before he could find the words to say, he found Farmer Maggot speaking to him once more. “Now, you get up from the ground and come up to the house and I’ll reckon what’s to be done with you there. It’s nearly time for luncheon and I won’t leave the misses with a full table for the likes of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Merry managed, miserably. He slowly got to his feet feeling light-headed and a bit wobbly. “W-What are you going to do with me?”

“Well, you are in a powerful lot of trouble aren’t you?” Farmer Maggot said. He paused and when Merry was unable to answer him, he looked at his own son. “Help him to the house and let him lean on you. I think he’s a bit unsteady. I believe he fainted.”

Farmer Maggot’s son chuckled and put an arm around Merry’s waist. “I’ve got him.”

“I really didn’t faint,” Merry mumbled, looking down at his feet. Both the farmer and his son ignored this remark.

I’ll get his stolen goods here and we’ll be off to eat. Your mum will be waiting.”

Merry felt himself being propelled in the direction of the farm house which he could just make out. In spite of his protests, he was glad to have someone to lean on because his legs still felt like they might give way at any moment. He was embarrassed, ashamed, and weak-kneed. Without the support of the strong arm of Farmer Maggot’s son, he knew that he would most likely be sitting on his rump in the dust right now.

Farmer Maggot followed along with the dogs behind him. Merry had never felt in such disgrace before and found that the only place he could look just now was down at the dirt.

Pippin continued to cross the fields in the hope of finding the Maggot’s house or Merry. It seemed so odd to him that these folks in the Marish lived in houses rather than smials. He didn’t think he could ever get used to that sort of thing. He’d been in only a few houses and he much preferred smials. He made no effort to hide himself but he seemed to be traveling unnoticed just the same. Normally he would have been tempted to pick a tomato or a carrot to munch on as he walked but just now his stomach didn’t seem to want food. He was far too worried about what those dogs might have done to Merry. He had to find his older cousin. He’d heard stories about Maggot’s dogs from the older lads at the Hall.

Pippin was just making his way through a rather nice bed of lettuce when a young lass looked up at him and frowned. She had a hoe in her hands and was wearing a large hat like his sister Pearl wore to work in the fields at home. He waved to her and she waved back with a rather puzzled expression on her face.

The walk to the house was one of the longest that Merry had ever experienced in his short life. No one said a word. Even the dogs were silent. When they reached the sturdy little farmhouse, Merry was taken into the kitchen and eased onto a chair by Maggot’s son. Across the room, other members of the family were putting food on a very large table. They looked over at Merry curiously, but continued with their work.

The son snorted and Farmer Maggot said, “Missus, it seems that the Maggots will be entertaining the son of the Master of Buckland at lunch today, but before that, you might want to have a look at him. He went and fainted out there in the midst of our strawberries.”

Merry blushed and squeezed his eyes shut. Did Farmer Maggot plan to tell everyone this?

“Oh, dear!” she sighed, and came over and knelt down in front of Merry putting her hand on his forehead. “Must be the heat. It’s powerful warm today and he’s not wearing a hat.”

“No trouble at all, dear,” she said. I just brought a bucket of cold water in from the well not ten minutes before you arrived. I’ll get a cool cloth for your head and bring you a drink of water. You’ll be put right in no time!” Her voice was cheery as she left him to get the water and the cloth. Merry returned his eyes to her spotless kitchen floor.

“My missus is a fine healer in her own way,” Farmer Maggot said. “No fancy trainin’ but out here on a farm you learn a thing or three about treatin’ the sick and the injured. We don’t get too many lads faintin’ on our property, but a couple of my daughters have swooned a time or two. You’re in good hands.”

Merry wanted to hide under the table in shame. He had swooned like a lass. Why was the farmer not telling his wife what he’d caught Merry doing? Why was he letting her tend to him like this? Why wasn’t someone yelling at him or sending for his father so that he could yell at him?

He sat there in the Maggot’s kitchen feeling guilty while the farmer’s wife held the cool cloth on his forehead. Various members of the family moved about the kitchen helping to ready food for lunch and speaking to one another. Jests were exchanged and there was talk of the crops and the market sprinkled in among questions about this one’s health or that one’s upcoming wedding. All the while, Merry stared at the floor and willed himself to disappear.

“Now, you take slow, small sips of this water or you’ll be sick,” Mrs. Maggot instructed as she handed him the cup.

“Go on, lad,” Farmer Maggot encouraged roughly and Merry raised the cup to his lips and sipped. The water was cool. He felt it wash the last traces of the strawberries down his throat and was, for the first time that he could remember, grateful to be rid of their taste.

“It feels much better, thank you,” Merry mumbled. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“It was no trouble, lad,” Mrs. Maggot said, breezily. “Now, you come over here to the table and join us for luncheon. It’s just plain country fare and nothing fancy, but there’s plenty of it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Merry said, looking at her for the first time and seeing her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled at him. Her hair was light brown and generously salted with grey, all of it pulled back from her sun-baked face into a knot of some sort to keep it out of her eyes while she worked.

“Of course you can, dear one,” she said. “You will need to wash up a bit first. You look like you’ve been digging in the dirt.”

Merry hid his hands behind him as he remembered that it was the soil of the Maggots’ carrot patch that covered his grimy hands. He quickly looked away from her and shook his sweaty curls. “I’m not hungry, thank you.”

“I can’t for the life of me imagine a growing lad that isn’t hungry,” she objected. “Our own are always hungry. Can’t fill the youngest lad just lately and I’ll judge that you’re not but a few years shy of him. How old are you, lad?”

“Twenty-three,” Merry said, glad for a question that didn’t embarrass him.

“Then I suspect that some part of you is hungry whether you know it or not,” she chuckled. One of my lasses will get you settled in proper and we will see how hungry you are. But first, step over to the sink and wash your hands and face a bit. A fine lookin’ lad like you should be seen at his best at mealtime.” She took Merry by the shoulders and steered him toward the counter.

“Do what she says, young Master, “Farmer Maggot said. He walked over and sat down in a large chair at the head of the table.

Merry had this strong urge to run out the back of the house and keep going but he knew that the farmer’s dogs were out there somewhere. He washed up and the farmer’s wife led him over to the table where a large group, including Farmer Maggot and the son who had helped Merry from the fields, sat around a well-spread table.

“This is the Master’s son, what’s your name, dear one?’ the farmer’s wife asked.

“This is Master Merry Brandybuck and he is joining us for luncheon,” she smiled. “Now, you sit next to my lass, Lily and she’ll see to you.” She started him in the direction of an empty chair. “Not every day we have such grand company for lunch, is it?”

“It must be our day for company, mum,” another lass said as she came into the room. “Look what I found wandering about in our lettuce patch as bold as brass buttons on a new coat.”

Merry looked up to see that the new arrival was another of Maggot’s daughters--and Pippin! As Merry looked on in surprise, Pippin smiled and spoke to Mrs. Maggot. “Peregrin Took, at your service and at your family’s.”

“Pippin!” Merry said, his hand on the back of the chair. He had just been ready to sit down, but now was frozen in place by surprise.

Pippin’s eyes lit up and he crossed the room at a run, wrapped his arms about Merry’s waist and hugged him. “Oh, Merry! You’ve not been eaten alive after all! I was worried when I saw the others come back and you weren’t with them and they said you were on your own and they wouldn’t help and so I came alone and you’re still alive!”

There was a general chuckling at all of this by the farmer’s family, and the lass that had brought Pippin in said, “It would seem that my guest knows yours.” She arched an eye at her father as he moved over toward the two cousins.

“Young Master Peregrin Took, what were you doin’ on my land today?” the farmer asked, bending over and looking at Pippin, who now had a death grip on Merry’s hand.

“Looking for my cousin,” Pippin answered in a much steadier voice than any that Merry had managed during his visit here.

“I’ll be the judge of what his part might have been,” Maggot said, sternly. “Now, why are you here?” He looked at Pippin.

“I came to find Merry because it was all they would let me do,” Pippin said, softly.

The farmer smiled at him. “So, they thought you too young for raidin’ the fields, did they?”

“I’m nearly fifteen,” Pippin piped up and Merry groaned. “But they thought I’d be too slow and get everyone caught.”

“He wasn’t with me,” Merry said, pulling Pippin closer to him and putting an arm around him. “He’s just fool enough to come looking for me after I got caught.”

“Someone had to and those others are cowards!” Pippin said, stoutly, not moving from Merry’s side. ‘It isn’t right to leave your friends behind like that to save your own hide.”

“There is no honor among thieves, young Master Took,” Farmer Maggot said, trying not to smile and failing. “Now, all of this is putting a stop to my lunch and this is a working farm so we have little enough time for meals. You two lads sit and eat and we’ll talk more on this afterward.”

“You’ll not feed Merry to the dogs, will you?” Pippin asked, as Merry pinched his arm to silence him. “Ouch, don’t, Merry; I have to know!”

“I don’t think we’ve fed anyone to the dogs in some time, and I suspect that today will not be the day we do so,” Farmer Maggot said as his family snickered at Pippin. “Now, sit yourself down and have something to eat.”

Pippin was seated next to the Maggot lad who had helped bring Merry in from the fields with Mrs. Maggot on the other side of him, while Merry was seated next to Lily with another Maggot lass on his other side.

In spite of all of the wonderful food and a very long morning with elevenses missed, Merry had no appetite. Lily filled his plate for him, but he was barely able to eat anything at all. He took his fork and slid his food around and tried not to look at anyone.

Pippin had no trouble at all eating and in between bites he soon became the center of attention as he rattled on about his father’s farm in Whitwell, his favorite foods, the Ferry, his cousins, and anything else that came to mind. The Maggot family was a fine audience and all were soon smiling and laughing at Pippin’s ramblings. Merry supposed that it was much easier to be charming and at ease when you didn’t have a guilty conscience.

After lunch, the farmer’s family scattered in a hurry, each off to whatever chores needed doing, leaving only Merry, Farmer Maggot, and Pippin at the table. Mrs. Maggot and Lily were clearing away the dishes and the farmer looked over at Pippin and then caught his wife’s eye.

“So, Pippin Took,” Mrs. Maggot said with her hands full of dishes. “How much do you know about cleaning a kitchen?”

Pippin smiled at her and stood. “I have three sisters and they make me help all of the time.”

“Good, then you’ll be right at home here,” Lily said, putting an arm around him in an effort to guide him along, but Pippin stopped and looked worriedly at Merry.

Merry looked over at his younger cousin and managed a reassuring smile. “Go on, Pippin. I have some explaining to do. I’ll see you after.”

Pippin looked at Merry and then at Farmer Maggot. “You do know that you can’t feed my cousin to your dogs, don’t you? His father is the Master of Buckland and--”

Merry groaned. “Pippin, Mister Maggot knows who my father is, now go on. No one is going to be eaten by any dogs.”

Pippin flushed and allowed Lily to steer him toward the dishes and Merry looked over at the farmer. “He doesn’t mean any harm, honest, he doesn’t. He just doesn’t always think before he says things.”

Farmer Maggot looked at Merry intently and said quietly. “Oh, he was thinkin’ just fine, son. He meant to let me know that you were important and that the likes of me shouldn’t be thinkin’ of doin’ you any harm. That’s exactly what he meant.”

The farmer looked at Merry for a moment and then stood. “Let’s you and I go into the parlor and have a little talk, shall we?”

Merry nodded and stood also, grateful that his legs would now hold him. He followed the farmer into the parlor and sat stiffly down in a large, well-worn chair. He was glad that Pippin would not be joining them for this discussion. He knew exactly what Pippin had intended to do with his earlier remarks and the little scamp had done it. It wouldn’t do to have Pippin defending him throughout this entire conversation. Merry also didn’t like to think of Pippin hearing what might be said. He might complain about Pippin tagging along after him and looking up to him, but Merry enjoyed the fact that his little cousin was so proud of him. He hated to think of that changing.

Farmer Maggot seated himself across from Merry on an equally worn sofa and nodded his head toward the kitchen behind them. “That little one would fight a pack ‘o wolves for you. Are you worth it?”

Merry looked at Maggot and shook his head. “Not really, but he seems to think I am. I know I’m not worth much of anything today.” He sighed and then asked, “You aren’t going to punish Pippin, too, are you?”

“I didn’t catch that him with a sack of my vegetables,” Maggot said. “My dealings are with you, young Master Brandybuck.”

“Please,” Merry said uncomfortably. “Just Merry.” He didn’t like being reminded of who he was just now for some strange reason. He found himself wishing that his father were a farmer like Pippin’s right now and not the Master of Buckland. He seldom envied Pippin his life out in the middle of the Tooklands, but right now he did. Being ordinary folks sounded like a very tempting thing at the moment.

“All right, son,” Maggot said. “I can call you ‘Merry’ if you like, but it won’t change a thing. You’ll still be the Master’s son and the thief that I caught in my field today, won’t you?”

“You see, you aren’t the first lad from over the water that I’ve caught in my fields, and you won’t be the last, I’ll wager,” he said. “Seems that raiding my garden has become a big temptation to you lads and your lot are hardly the first. Why, when you were younger than your plain-speakin’ friend in my kitchen there, Buckland lads were stealing my mushrooms and makin’ off with my tomatoes. Why do you think I keep those dogs?”

“I got the first of them to try and scare lads like yourself away from my fields,” Maggot said. “This land here has been in my family for a long time and in all that time, the only threat we’ve had is lads like you and a few wolves now and again. The wolves, I understand. Food gets in short supply for them in the winter months and sometimes they have no choice but to come lookin’ for a stray calf or a few chickens. You, on the other hand, don’t look like you’ve fallen on lean times and neither do the others that I’ve caught.”

“I suspect that you eat well and often,” Maggot said. “So, I have to ask myself just exactly why a lad like you might want to steal from the likes of me? The only reason that comes to mind is that you do it just for amusement. What I don’t understand is how it can be amusing to take what don’t belong to you from those that can ill afford to lose it!”

“Not thinkin’ can get a fella in trouble, lad,” Maggot said. “If you keep it up, it’ll land us all in trouble later on. Someday, you’ll be the one that farmers like myself come to in times of trouble. Someday you’ll be the Master of the Hall. I do hope that you’re planning’ on doing a bit of thinkin’ when that time comes.”

“I never meant to hurt anyone, honest,” Merry said, his grey eyes filling with tears of shame. “I didn’t think it would matter that much.”

“This farm feeds my family and several others,” the farmer said. “I have lots of hobbits who work along side of my own family and all of them feed their families from my fields. I have ten children of my own to feed and two grandchildren and another on the way.” The farmer pulled Merry’s sack out from under the chair where he had stowed it before lunch. He emptied it onto the table. “There’s a fine meal of carrots and mushrooms right there. But if you’d have run off with it, we’d be one meal less around here.”

“I didn’t think about that at all, sir,” Merry admitted, wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.

“When things are hard for some of the families in Buckland, don’t they come by the Hall for meals?” Maggot asked.

“Well, when things are hard for some of the other farmers around here with less land than us, they come by here to fill up their corners,” Maggot said. “If things get hard for my farm, then I’ll be coming to the Hall. Your father is a fine Master and he does right by us even though we’re on this side of the water. We’re closer to being part of Buckland than we are to being part of the rest of the Shire. The farms in the Marish have always looked to the Master in times of trouble. Now, when I go to the Master and I tell him that lads from Buckland are robbing my family’s farm and that one of those lads is his own son, what do you suppose he’ll do?”

“He’ll make it right,” Merry said. “He’ll find the lads that have been in your garden and he’ll speak to their parents. He’ll make restitution for what you’ve lost.”

Merry gulped. “I suspect that he’ll go hardest on me. He won’t tolerate what I’ve done because it’s stealing and it isn’t right.”

“No, sir!” Merry said, suddenly angry. “He’s a fair hobbit and an honest one and he’d never do anything of the sort!”

Merry’s anger died quickly. He couldn’t think of anything at all to say to this and he suddenly wished that Pippin were still in the room. Pippin might not have the right answer, but he would have an answer.

“You see,” Maggot said. “What you do is on his plate too. He’s got the whole of Buckland at his door, but you are his son and if you set a bad example then it takes away from him.”

“No, but how does it look if his own son is out raiding gardens?” the farmer asked in a gentler tone. “How are folks around here to know that he done his best if his own son turns out to be a sneak thief? And while we’re at it, you’d best think on that little one in my kitchen. Do you want him lookin’ up to a thief?”

“No,” Merry said. He stood so suddenly his head swam—perhaps he really had taken too much sun—but he didn’t care. “I want the chance to make things right. I want to repay you for what I’ve done today.”

“I have some money of my own,” Merry said. “Let me pay for what I took and for what the others bore away or let me work it off in your fields. I’ll work hard and you’ll get a full day from me every day until you think that I’ve paid my debt to you.”

“That I doubt, but I can guarantee that they won’t be in your fields again,” Merry said, stoutly.

“And how in all of the Shire can you promise a thing like that?” the farmer asked, eyeing Merry intently.

“No, sir,” Merry said. “You’re to take the word of the son of the Master of Buckland.”

“All right,” Maggot said, getting to his feet and offering his hand. “We’ll shake on it like gentle hobbits.”

Merry extended his own hand and shook the farmer’s hand. “I’ll come by every day until my debt is paid to you and I’ll see to the others.”

“That will be fair enough,” Maggot said. “Now, I suspect that I had better get you and the little one back home. I won’t expect you here tomorrow. Rest up and think on what you done and then come the next day. Be here by second breakfast. I feed my workers before I set them to their tasks. Oh, and...” the farmer’s shrewd eyes twinkled, “be sure and bring a hat along with you!”

Pippin, who was standing in the kitchen doorway listening in spite of Mrs. Maggot’s efforts to keep him busy, walked quickly into the room and to Merry’s side. “Are we going now?”

Merry put an arm around him and smiled. “Yes, I have to see my father about a few things.”

Pippin looked up at Merry sympathetically and tightened his grip on Merry’s waist.

While farmer Maggot got his cart ready, Mrs. Maggot packed a snack to send along with them. Merry and Pippin soon found themselves nearing the Buckleberry Ferry again. Pippin had talked most of the way there. Now that he was sure that Merry wasn’t going to be eaten alive by Maggot’s dogs, he liked the gruff old farmer.

Mr. Maggot pulled his team to a stop just around the bend before reaching the Ferry. “I’ll let you two off here and be headin’ back. I’ve work to see to.”

Merry’s mouth fell open. “Aren’t you going to speak to my father about all of this?”

“Don’t need to,” Maggot said. “My business was with you and we’ve settled that. You do what you think is best about the Master. If you keep your word, then I have no business at the Hall.”

Maggot pulled away, leaving two very confused hobbits in his wake. Pippin, naturally spoke first. “Are you going to tell Uncle Doc, Merry?’

“Why? You could just keep it to yourself and work things out with Mr. Maggot on your own. I won’t tell,” Pippin promised. “No one will know anything.”

The two weary cousins made their way to the Ferry slowly. Now, it was Pippin’s turn to look guilty as Otis asked, “Did you deliver the Master’s message to Mister Merry?”

“I lied earlier, Otis,” Pippin said. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to go with Merry and so I made it up. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Well, I reckon it’s all right this time,” Otis said, with a small smile. “Long as you don’t do it again.”

“No!” Merry said, before Otis could be swayed. “Let Otis do that. He knows how it’s done.”

As they walked back to the Hall from the Ferry, Pippin tried to convince Merry to allow him to come with him when he talked to his father, but Merry refused the offer. “I have to do this on my own, Pip.”

Pippin nodded and they walked on in silence for a while. Finally Merry said, “Pippin?”

“You needed lookin’ after,” Pippin said. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Good thing I’m so responsible or we’d both be in trouble,” Pippin said, teasingly. “You’d better keep me around until you grow up a bit.”

“Finish helping me grow up, of course,” Pippin smiled, and Merry put an arm around his little cousin.

Merry was true to his word. He went straight to his father’s study and told him the entire truth, leaving out only the names of the other lads involved. He also left out Pippin’s lie to Old Otis and his younger cousin’s ride across the Brandywine alone. He made it seem as if he’d taken Pippin along but told him to wait for him outside of the hedge once they had arrived at the farm. It was the only lie that he told.

Having heard the entire story, Saradoc agreed to allow Merry to work off his debt to farmer Maggot and then added a punishment of his own. Merry was to spend his first free week after Maggot released him doing work around the Hall. As Merry left his study, Saradoc felt a hint of pride at the way in which Merry was handling all of this. He was also grateful to Farmer Maggot for making Merry see the seriousness of his crimes.

Merry spent the next two weeks working for Farmer Maggot. Pippin tagged along and insisted on working also. As there seemed no way around it, Maggot let Pippin help out as much or as little as he wanted to, but Merry worked long and hard. He was determined to prove himself and he did.

Keeping the other lads away from Maggot’s fields was easier than Merry had hoped. He explained it to them the way that the farmer had explained it to him and then he told them. “If I find out that any of you have been in the Maggot’s garden, I’ll go straight to my father. I made a bargain with Mr. Maggot and I mean to keep it! I won’t have him thinking that Buckland is full of thieves! We Brandybucks have our honor to think of and I mean to defend it!”

No one, certainly no other Brandybucks, could argue with defending the honor of the family name. Other, less honorable lads, simply didn’t want to have to explain their actions to their parents and so they also kept out of Maggot’s fields. Word soon spread that old Maggot was a personal friend of the Master’s family and that his fields were off limits. The raids stopped.

Merry’s plan to brag to Frodo about his raid on Maggot’s garden fell through. He was too embarrassed to mention it to his older cousin. He didn’t want Frodo thinking that he was a thief. He might tell him about it one day, but no time soon.

They passed along the edge of a huge turnip-field, and then came to a stout gate. Beyond it a rutted land ran between low well-laid hedges towards a distant clump of trees. Pippin stopped.

‘I know these fields and this gate!” he said. ‘This is Bamfurlong, old Farmer Maggot’s land. That’s his farm away there in the trees.’

‘One trouble after another!’ said Frodo, looking nearly as much alarmed as if Pippin had declared the lane was the slot leading to a dragon’s den. The others looked at him in surprise.

‘What’s wrong with old Maggot?’ asked Pippin. ‘He’s a good friend to all the Brandybucks. Of course he’s a terror to trespassers, and keeps ferocious dogs – but after all, folks down here are near the border and have to be more on their guard.’

‘I know,’ said Frodo. ‘But all the same,’ he added with a shamedfaced laugh, ‘I am terrified of him and his dogs. I have avoided his farm for years and years. He caught me several times trespassing after mushrooms, when I was a youngster at Brandy Hall. On the last occasion he beat me, and then took me and showed me to his dogs. “See, lads,” he said, “next time this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now see him off!” They chased me all the way to the Ferry. I have never got over the fright – though I daresay the beasts knew their business and would not really have touched me.’

Pippin laughed. ‘Well, it’s time you made it up. Especially if you are planning on coming back to live in Buckland. Old Maggot is really a stout fellow – if you leave his mushrooms alone. Let’s get into the lane and we shan’t be trespassing. If we meet him, I’ll do the talking. He is a friend of Merry’s and I used to come here with him a good deal at one time.’

Pippin couldn’t help but smile. It seemed that more than one of his older cousins had run up against old Farmer Maggot. He wondered if either knew of the others adventures?


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Trust a Brandybuck and a Took! by Grey Wonderer