Chapter 6 - Vinegar and Onions Were Brought

"I'm not telling you again, get down!"

"Now Merry," Pippin stubbornly kept his hands on the levers and his bottom firmly on the driving bench. "We agreed I could drive and the race was my idea! Just let me finish mowing the top of the field, then you can have a turn."

"At this rate there won't be a field left!" Merry pointed out. "You've already destroyed the top fence, bumped into the Mallorn tree, sprayed the crowd with mud when you got stuck in a rut, disturbed a wasps' nest, fallen off twice and almost run yourself over! You're not driving any more!"

The wasps' nest had probably been the most spectacular. The angry insects had swarmed around the engine, threatening to engulf the cab and driver. Pippin, always ready with a bright idea, had leapt down (this time after stopping the vehicle) and grabbed handfuls of mown grass, which he piled onto the fire. The fire billowed smoke that Smaug would have been proud to own and the infuriated wasps had abandoned the engine to turn their vengeance on the watching hobbits.

The crowd had attempted to scatter, many of them pushing and shoving and consequently being pushed and shoved, until there was a very large pile of hobbit arms and legs writhing on the ground with irate wasps taking pot-shots at the heap until, finally losing interest, they headed off to Bywater in a swarm and a huff.

There was an official truce in the race, while vinegar and onions were brought to rub on stings and the Thain and the Master were compelled to give the victims a jolly good listening to, as many lectures on the dangers and inconvenience of wasp bites were delivered.

Old Tom Cotton was particularly vexed, as he had received a spectacular sting on the end of his nose, to say nothing of having his armchair upset in the rush to evacuate the wasp invasion. "It's not so much the smarting," he waggled his finger at Pippin, "it's the indignity –at my time of life. Took my lads a lot of heaving and pulling to set me right again. I allus said no good would come of that contraption of yorn!"

"My dear Farmer Cotton," Pippin was all contrition. "I'm so sorry! Look I'll have someone fetch you a pint of ale, just to make up for your inconvenience." He thrust a coin into the hand of young Herbie Pottleshaw, "Go and get Farmer Cotton a mug of ale – the best mind you! Hurry now."

"Not from the Ivy Bush," Farmer Cotton was set in his ways and preferred the brew from the Green Dragon. "And make sure it's proper 1420!"

The lad hurried off, the hobbits rearranged themselves around the edge of the field, none now daring to set foot within several bargepole lengths of the ill-fated engine, and the race resumed.

That is to say, the race and several more accidents resumed and Merry finally lost patience; many said, not before time!

"Pippin! Are you going to get down? Or do I have to go and get Diamond?"

"Oh!" Pippin knew when he was beaten and reluctantly climbed down from the bench. Everyone in the Shire knew that Captain Peregrin was fearless in the face of danger and sometimes in the face of sheer recklessness and extravagant lack of caution. He had fought with goblins and dragons and even felled a great giant on the battlefield, or so the stories went. He had routed the villains out of the Shire when others had faltered. He had been known to stand up to Gandalf the Wizard and even the Great King of Gondor Himself!

But when it came to his darling wife, Diamond, Pippin knew he had met his match – in more ways than just matrimonially. One sunrise smile from her enchanting blue eyes and Pippin melted into abject and total obedience. Merry frequently used this cunning device quite ruthlessly to manage some of Pippin's more stubbornly destructive, albeit well-meaning, behaviour.

The rest of the mowing, with Merry at the controls, went surprisingly smoothly and there was much muttering as to why Captain Meriadoc had not just ridden the great machine in the first place. Then again, as Ralf Bolger pointed out, "there t'wouldn't have been half such a good show!"

TBC