Chapter 4. From the journal of Fortinbras Took, S.R. 1158

15 July

I think that today was the hottest day of my life. The hottest day of the year, most assuredly. The old gammers were sitting on their doorsteps and fanning themselves most impressively as I walked through Tuckboro on your errand, Grandfa. And to send me back again, because I did not count the change!

If it is too hot to ride a pony, is it not too hot to send a grandson?

It is a mercy I did not melt.

When I asked Gammer Goodbody why she did not hide from the sun, deep inside the cool of her delving, she said that winter's chill would come soon enough, and she must need soak up the sunshine while it lasts.

I said it was hard to imagine winter's chill on such a day, and her old gaffer who was playing at draughts with his neighbour shook his head at me, just as you do, and muttered about the short-sightedness of youth.

But I am not short-sighted at all! Not even for all my reading, though you say I shall ruin my eyes.