It’s been said that the Bagginses are a mad lot. Full of oddities they are, Mr. Bilbo and his lad Frodo. Frodo is new to Hobbiton, and the lad doesn’t have many friends as yet. I seen him walking about by hisself, looking far off into the distance with those great odd eyes of his. And yet, it is just such a walk that he is on when my own Marigold slips and goes tumbling down the Hill. Mr. Frodo runs halfway up to meet her and breaks her fall, catching her up just like a real gentlehobbit.
“Are you alright, Marigold?” he asks, helping her up and drying her tears with his handkerchief. “This hill is a devil to fall down, isn’t it? Come on, let’s go up to Bag End; Bilbo’s making gingerbread lads.”
He takes Marigold’s little hand in his, and leads her up to the kitchen. I see them sitting at the table, Frodo telling her a tale to make my little lass laugh, woes forgotten, the way any other would likely never do with a working family like ours. They’re good folk, those Bagginses, for all their oddities. Always caring for others. Mad Bagginses, indeed.