Chapter the Fifth. In which Bilbo practises the Social Niceties with a little Guidance from a Young Hobbit
All of the hobbits sheltering within Bag End’s generous confines went to bed early that night, even that old bachelor Bilbo, who typically kept bachelor’s hours – meaning he didn’t bother to keep to much of a schedule. The hobbits who “did” for him, such as Hamfast Gamgee and Mrs Goodbody, had learnt to work around him or to go ahead with their work in his absence, for the old hobbit was as likely to go off on a whim without a word to anyone as he was to stay up deep into the night watching the stars or writing or reading or drawing his latest map.
Hamfast consulted with Mr Bilbo as needed, but as the old hobbit always agreed with his gardener’s suggestions, it was merely courtesy on Master Gamgee’s part. As for Mrs Goodbody, if the door to Bilbo’s bedroom was closed when she arrived, she knew to turn her attentions to the kitchen and more public parts of the smial, such as scrubbing the stones of the entryway, polishing the brass in the parlour, dusting everything and everywhere save the old Baggins’s study, where she wasn’t welcome even to set foot. Oh, Mr Bilbo had been pleasant enough about it, but he’d also been firm. Since he paid promptly and well, she wasn’t going to go against his plainly stated wishes!
...And if all the bedroom doors were left wide open, and the Sun was shining bright, and the old hobbit was nowhere to be found (or the study door was firmly closed) when she arrived, she knew she had the old hobbit’s leave to throw open the windows (weather permitting), roll up the rugs and have her sons carry them out and beat them well, then wash the windows and floors and wax the furniture while she washed and dried and ironed the curtains and bedding and clothes in the hampers. After one of these day-long efforts, the bedrooms would be fresh and clean and ready and welcoming. The old hobbit was fond of guests, after all.
Mrs. Goodbody might neglect her own home on one of those days, but the payment she received more than made up for it. On such days, Mr Bilbo even paid in advance! ...so she could send her youngest down to the Ivy Bush to fetch a meal for all the workers. Accompanied by the homely sound of laundry flapping on the lines, they’d picnic in the Old Orchard before launching into putting the smial back together after taking it apart to clean and scrub and polish.
In any event, everyone – meaning Bilbo and his unexpected guests – went to bed at about the same time as tiny Pervinca, the youngest of the visiting Tooks. As a result, the next morning’s wakening was much pleasanter for all concerned. Little Vinca wakened first, as young ones often do.
The owner of Bag End lay in his bed a few extra moments listening to the littlest lass, whose voice this morning resembled the chirping of a tiny bird. Bilbo considered it a great improvement over the distraught screams and wails of the previous morning. ‘Ma-ma-ma! Da-da-da! Ma-ma-ma! Goo’ mo’ning!’
To be answered by Eglantine’s cooing, ‘Morning-morning, lovie! Hush, now! Don’t waken Cousin Bilbo!’
Bilbo raised his voice as he got up from his bed and slipped on his clothes. ‘No need to worry! I was already awake!’ It was the polite answer even if it was not the most truthful one.
Emerging into the hallway, he encountered Paladin, holding little Vinca in his arms, a broad smile on his face. It was hardly necessary to enquire as to his health, but Bilbo did anyhow, of course.
‘I’m feeling fine!’
‘I’m glad!’ Bilbo said, and meant it, but added, ‘But you’re not to overdo, young fellow! We don’t want you to bring on a return of the fever!’
‘All’s well that ends better!’ Paladin said stoutly, bouncing little Vinca in his arms until she squealed with delight. ‘The way I’m feeling, that fever’s about as likely to return as the King is.’
‘Please, dearie,’ Eglantine said as she emerged from the guest room and rested a pleading hand on her husband’s arm. She leaned closer and whispered so as not to alarm the children, though Bilbo read the words on her lips, ‘You were so very ill... I was so frightened...’
‘Not at all,’ Paladin said, though perhaps the words were meant for little Vinca, for he gently pinched her cheek as he said them.
‘And if you’ll allow me, Bilbo dear,’ Eglantine said, turning to their host and pasting on a bright smile, ‘I’d like to stir up for you a breakfast fit for the haying!’
‘I’d like nothing better,’ Bilbo answered with a bow, knowing the sense of obligation the Tooks were feeling and wishing he could think of a better way to ease their minds and hearts. He then reached and chucked Vinca under the chin. ‘I’d be much obliged, in fact, seeing how this one had to set me straight on eggses and ham just yesterday morning!’
Dropping his voice to a conspiratorial tone and raising his hand to his mouth as if telling a tremendous secret, he added, ‘Did you know that neither of them should be green? Eggses are brown or white, and ham should be pink! Why, if my chief assistant cook had not stopped me, I might have fried up some winter cabbage leaves instead of the ham I was intending!’
The chief assistant cook chortled in glee.
Small Pimpernel wrinkled her nose at the memory of old Bilbo picking up a cabbage from the kitchen table as he’d bumbled his way through breakfast-making. She’d been quite relieved when Vinca had objected to adding cabbage leaves to the sizzling butter in the frypan and had taken it upon herself (despite Vinca’s having been named chief assistant cook) to inform Bilbo that cabbage leaves were not edible but had altogether another purpose.
Meanwhile, to Bilbo’s secret satisfaction, Paladin and Eglantine seemed to relax, at least a little, at their host’s free and easy attitude.
Probably thought the children would be a nuisance and a bother to an old bachelor like me, he thought to himself. ‘But really, they liven up the old smial in the nicest way!’
‘What’s that?’ Paladin said, startled, and only then did Bilbo realise he’d spoken the latter part of his thought aloud.
‘The children!’ he said. ‘I don’t know when I’ve had such a diverting time! Why, I never realised before the loneliness of the bachelor life. He looked around the faces of the young hobbits gathered there. ‘D’you suppose I might be able to find one of my own somewhere or other?’
‘You should look under a cabbage leaf!’ Pimpernel said. ‘Instead of trying to cook them, I mean.’
‘Nell!’ Eglantine said with a pretty blush, while Paladin ducked his head and chucked little Vinca under the chin. ‘But this isn’t getting breakfast on the table!’ she said quickly to change the subject, and to her plainly-spoken daughter, she added, ‘Come, Nell! I’ll need a helper in the kitchen whilst Pearl is packing up all your baggage again...’
‘There’s a rocking chair by the fire in the kitchen,’ Bilbo said to Paladin, putting a hand to the farmer’s arm to subtly steer him in the right direction. ‘I’m sure my chief assistant cook will enjoy your help with getting the chair to rock properly whilst she directs the kitchen activities.’ To his eyes, the farmer was not standing as straight as he had when he’d declared himself fully recovered. Sitting by the warm hearth and keeping little Vinca occupied should be a properly quiet and restful occupation for the fellow.
‘In the meantime,’ Bilbo said, guiding Paladin in the direction of the kitchen and then releasing him, ‘I’ll just throw a few things into a pack so I’m all ready to go with you once breakfast is done.’
‘O’ course,’ Paladin said, sounding a little dazed. Yes, Bilbo thought, the fellow would need to rest frequently over the next day or three if he wanted to recover thoroughly from that violent fever.
By the time he finished packing the necessities, including a goodly number of pocket-handkerchiefs, and strapping up his pack, a plethora of good smells were wafting from the kitchen.
As he entered the hallway from the bedroom, he saw Pearl emerge from the guest room. ‘Good morning, Uncle Bilbo,’ she said in a tentative tone.
He proffered a sweeping bow. ‘Good morning, my lady Pearl!’ he said.
To Bilbo’s surprise, the child looked confused or even a little concerned about the grand mode of address he’d employed. Perhaps Paladin, in choosing to live apart from the grand society of the Great Smials Tooks under Mistress Lalia, did not like his daughters to put on airs.
Bilbo’s supposition grew stronger at hearing her response. ‘I’m just Pearl.’
‘Very well,’ Bilbo said, affecting a solemn tone. ‘Pardon my error. I am woefully out of practice when it comes to offering good mornings to people. Let us begin again, properly this time.’ He theatrically wiped his brow, stood straighter and cleared his throat. ‘Good morning, Just Pearl.’
She giggled – a delightful sound – and blushed. Putting out her hand to the old hobbit, she said, ‘Please call me Pearl.’ With a shy smile, she added, ‘You could even call me Pearlie, as my da does.’
‘I should be honoured to do so,’ Bilbo intoned, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Letting go, he offered her his arm. ‘May I escort you to breakfast, Miss, er, Pearlie?’
With endearing dignity for such a young child, Pearl dipped her chin in regal assent and slipped her small, soft hand into the crook of his elbow. ‘Lead on, kind Sir,’ she said, and he had the feeling she was quoting from a children’s book he dimly remembered reading a long time ago. She giggled again, and added, ‘I mean, Uncle Bilbo.’
So Paladin read tales of errantry to his children, did he? At the thought, a kindred feeling sprang up in Bilbo’s heart. He definitely wanted to get to know this branch of the Took family better.
***