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Part 2, by Larner of the Handy Team:
He laid himself down on the bed once more, working himself up to a good cry, had he admitted it to himself. That was a good part of why he couldn't seem to do
Certainly the lads who'd grown up in the Smials seemed to look down on him a lot of the time, snickering behind their hands when he wore the wrong colors for the day or when his waistcoat wasn't properly buttoned, or when they saw him out working alongside the groundskeepers at pulling out dead flowers out of sheer boredom.
"If it weren't for my music, I'd probably have no friends at all," he muttered to himself. "They know I'm rotten at roopee--not that the weather's right for it while we're here anyway; they know I could care less who has the newest and most expensive waistcoat or which one's mum makes the best cheesecake. And everyone knows the only reason they all seem to make so much cheesecake is just to please Cousin Ferumbras, who dotes on it; they're all trying to curry his favor by sending him pieces of it!
"And not one of the Took lads here knows as much about the stars as I do, or understands that when the birds are flying low it means a storm is coming. And I'm always getting in trouble because I find the servant lads more interesting than my Took cousins! Diccon has three times the sense of Dodiras!"
Oh, dear--perhaps he ought not to have thought about Diccon, as it brought him back to the reason as to why he was stuck here in his room to begin with!
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