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Author: Dreamflower Somewhat Better Than Ironmongery "The tailor is the next street over." "But The Golden Cockerel is on this street, and only two blocks down." "Now you sound like Pippin, thinking with your stomach." "Mr. Pippin knows the city. They have a right good chicken pie, according to him. And my Gaffer says 'Never do business on an empty stomach, else you'll miss hearing something important for the rumbling of your innards.'" "Very well, we shall stop there for an early luncheon. Merry speaks well of their chicken pie also-- and of their ale, though he says it's not up to Shire standards. But we shan't put off this errand for long." "There now, Mr. Frodo! That was a fair meal, and you can't say it wasn't! Do you fancy more ale?" "No, thank you, Sam! I've enough to finish my brown bread and cheese. And that was indeed a toothsome chicken pie!" "It had a different sort of mushroom in it to what I've tasted afore. And there was a mite more rosemary, I'm thinking, than what we use at home." "More garlic, as well, and of course, there was that touch of lemon. Not something we use at home at all!" "Plenty of carrots, celery and onion, though! And a very flaky crust! Don't say as I could've done better myself. Should we ask for some of that honey-pastry as the server said they had?" "I don't think so, Sam. The day is getting on; we still have our errand to run. Don't sigh at me-- we shan't put it off any longer." "Are you sure we need to be doing this?" "Yes, Sam. I am quite sure." "Wait for me, Mr. Frodo, I'm coming." "Stand still, Sam! You didn't see me fidgeting when I had my turn." "Yes, Mr. Frodo." "Now, don't sound so cross! You know this needs to be done. Aren't you tired of going about in children's clothing?" "Lord Samwise, if you would turn to the left, so that I can get this tape down your inseam?" "Well, Mr. Frodo, I can't say as I won't appreciate having new things, but I wish it didn't mean so much fussing about to get them. Now, stop laughing at me sir! I'm just not used to this!" "I'm sorry, Sam! But for the clothes to fit, they must be measured!" "Now, Lord Samwise, if you would just turn back around this way for a moment, we shall be all finished." "I just wish as the clothes that Strider-- I mean, King Elessar-- already had made for us hadn't've all been so fine!" "We needed the finer clothing for court, Sam." "Yes sir, but just the one fancy suit would've done me for the King's banquets and feasts and all. That outfit that Lord Faramir said was for everyday would've been ruined by one afternoon on me knees in the garden!" "Well, you shall choose more suitable fabric for these workaday clothes. Do you see anything you fancy on the table?" "Yes sir! That thick brown stuff looks like it would wear well for breeches-- but it's not too stiff, and it won't show the dirt much."" "Indeed, Lord Samwise, that's a very sturdy linsey-woolsey!" "All that stuff for shirts though, it seems too fine!" "I think this creamy cambric will do well for you, Sam. It may look 'fine' as you say, but it's well-woven and not so thin as the lawn shirts they made us." "Yes, Lord Frodo! It's the sort of cambric used for livery up at the Citadel, for the kitchen servants. It washes well, and holds up to much rough use." "There! You see, Sam! Now, Master Tirion--" "No, my Lord! Please put your purse away! The Steward has already arranged the payment! I shall send one of my apprentices to deliver the items in a few days." *****
"You don't have to shout, Pip. I'm right here. Sam!" "Now who's shouting, Cousin Frodo? And what's in the packages?" "You'll see soon enough, Peregrin Took." "What is it, Mr. Frodo?...Oh." "Ah, I see your new clothes came, then." "Just look, Merry! I think they will be comfortable." "Very nice, Frodo! The light grey shirt and dark grey breeches will suit you. I like the stitchery. And I take it the other set is Sam's?" "Er...that is the cloth I picked out, Mr. Merry...but..." "Not exactly plain, are they, Sam?" "No, Mr. Pippin." "I like how the embroidery on the shirt sleeves matches the stitching on the seams of the breeches..." "Nice carving on the buttons, too. I think they must be oliphaunt ivory..." "Sam, why are you blushing?" "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took! Stop teasing Sam. Sam, they will not only wear well, but will look very nice indeed! I think the tailor did a splendid job." Sigh. "Yes, Mr. Frodo." "Well, Sam, I must say as I'm glad to see you put away the ironmongery! But looks to me like you've been a-working in your good clothes! Why, that shirt and breeches is far too fine to be a-grubbing weeds in, nor clearing away rubbish! What's so funny?" "Ah, Gaffer! These are my workaday clothes! Nothing I wore from home was more'n rags by the time Mr. Frodo and me finished our errand. But this is the Southern folks idea of work clothes!" "Well, all I got to say then, is thank goodness you're home again amongst sensible folks!" |
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