A Gift for Sam

Sam's hands trembled as he undid the wrapping. "For me, sir?"

"It was mine when I was a young lad," Frodo explained. "I know Bilbo has been teaching you your letters, and I thought you might like something of your own to read."

Sam stared at the book in his hands and tried to give it back. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo, but I can't accept this. It's much too fine a thing for me."

"Nonsense," Frodo said. "I want you to have it, and since it is my birthday, you must be agreeable." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "It is a story about Elves, you know."

"Elves, sir?" Sam asked excitedly. "Does it have magic and battles and all those fancy words Mr. Bilbo knows?"

"Yes," replied Frodo, smiling as Sam opened the book and carefully turned the pages. "And poems, too, which I know you will enjoy, Sam."

"It's got pictures," Sam said in wonder, "pictures of the loveliest Elves! But they're all lovely, aren't they, Mr. Frodo?"

"The loveliest of all beings," Frodo said. "Would you like to meet an Elf, Sam?"

"No, sir, not me," Sam replied, blushing.

Frodo raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Why not?"

"Well," Sam answered, "I would have nothing to say, leastwise nothing important, and maybe it would be better if I just looked at one of them from far away."

Frodo smiled, watching as Sam closed the book and smoothed down the cover.

"Do you think we'll ever see Elves, Mr. Frodo? Maybe one'll have to come through the Shire someday."

"Perhaps," Frodo replied, "someday."