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XIV. Cue: Favorite Season.
The Promise for Next Year
Paladin Took stood on the top of one of the Green Hills, looking northwest at the great field of barley that was now but a haze of green over the rich black earth, then south at the great square of hop vines, already growing so swiftly one could almost see them lengthen before one’s eyes. Next spring one would be able to enjoy their yield in the inns across the Shire; in this spring one could see, here in these fields, the promise of fine beer and ale all would know then.
As a farmer, he was more than content.
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