FRODO'S JOURNAL - A day in the life of a Hobbit of the Shire. (Pre-Quest Years)

Normally, it's Autumn when I get the itch to take extra-long walks in the Shire. However, I awoke several mornings ago feeling the need for a nice long trek. Sometimes, on such hikes I merely wander with no preordained destination in mind. But on this particular occasion, I thought I might enjoy a visit to Michel Delving, as long as I steered clear of the Mathom-house. After the fiasco that took place there with Merry and Pippin on my last visit, I wasn’t too sure I’d be welcome there.

I usually enjoy solitary walks, but this time I was felt inclined for some company. Neither Pippin nor Merry happened to be at hand, this time. (Probably for the best.) Folco Boffin, however, was and I enlisted him to join me on my trek. Fatty Bolger had declined, saying the only way he would travel that far would be by wagon. Sam had turned down my invitation as well, stating with a regretful expression, that the gardens at both Bag End and at home were in need of watering and weeding, and the “taters” especially needed to be watched carefully for signs of bugs. So it was that Folco and I were left to each other’s company. The journey was pleasant enough. The weather was fine for walking, not too hot during the day with a bright, starry sky providing the perfect canopy for camping underneath.

We managed to arrive in Michel Delving just in time for dinner, so we made haste to the Rose & Thorn Inn, where I stayed during my last visit. It is well known that the head cook there, one Mrs. Dimple Puddlejumper, makes the best meat pies and dumplings in the entire West Farthing. I had my heart, and stomach set on one of those tasty treats. After securing a room for the night, we tidied up a bit so as to sample Mrs. Puddlejumper's fare as quickly as possible. We came into the common room just in time to hear a familiar voice wafting over the crowd.

"Father, tell me again why I have to join you and the solicitors?"

Folco and I looked at each other in surprise. Pippin! Not just Pippin, mind you, but his father, Paladin Took, as well.

"You are here to learn how the solicitors tend to our land holdings." Paladin was saying in a voice tinged with a hint of impatience. "We went over all of this on our journey here. After all, should anything happen to me, you will be next in line to become Thain. It's time you began to learn what it is I do, as ‘Thain in waiting’."

"Thain in waiting," Pippin sighed. "Why do I have to learn this stuff if you haven't even become Thain yet? Grandfather Ferimbras will be Thain for a long time, yet!"

Paladin frowned. "Peregrin Took, there will be no more discussion tonight. I expect you to refrain from endless questions and listen for a change." Pippin sighed and nodded. It was obvious his heart wasn't into learning to be a Thain... at least, not the business part of Thainship.
I motioned for Folco to find us a table while I went over and invited Paladin and Peregrin to join us.

"Good evening, Paladin," I said, clasping his shoulder as I came up to the two. "Fancy meeting you in Michel Delving!"
Pippin's eyes grew large. "Frodo! What are you doing here? Are you on business, too?"

"Not really," I said with a smile. "For some reason I felt the urge to get out and do some walking. Folco's here, too, by the way." I pointed to where Folco had found a table and was waving for us to join him. "I was wondering, could we pry you away from business and have you join us for Dinner?"

Paladin smiled warmly. "Why certainly, my lad!”

We sat and enjoyed a rather lovely meal of meat and mushroom pies and cooked carrots and parsnips, potatoes with gravy and more than a few rounds of the Inn's best ale. With our bellies full, we took out our pipes and settled back to discuss the latest news among families. Which prompted Paladin to comment on the reason for his and Pip’s visit. Michel Delving was where the offices of the Took family solicitors were and it was high time that Peregrin learn a few things about the business and responsibility of what it took to be master of such vast property holdings as the Tooks possessed. "After all," Paladin said. "There is more to being Thain than being first in line for meals and feasts!"

It was apparent that the main thing on Pippin’s mind was to get as far away as possible from boring business as possible. If anything, he was more interested in a group of hobbits sitting by the fireplace, telling tales and such to whomever would listen. His attention drifted between his father’s well meaning advice and the laughter that came from the revelers.

“You two like a good story, don’t you, Frodo, Folco?” Pip suggested, casting a hopeful glance our way. "Ummm...Father, why don’t we go and have a listen?” he suggested.

Paladin shook his head but let Pippin go. Without waiting to see if Folco and I were going to join him, Pippin fairly leapt up from the table, so eager was he to get away from any further discussion of boring business. Paladin watched Pippin scurry away before he spoke to me.

"I fear that Peregrin will never be much of a Thain when he gets older. He spends far too much time being his Mother's pet, and getting into trouble these days."

"Ah, I wouldn't worry too much, Paladin," Folco said. "Pippin has a lot of growing up yet to do and his coming of age isn't for some time to come."

Paladin nodded and we spoke of other things for the time being.

That's when we were interrupted by another voice. "Well, well, well!"

We turned to see the cheery face of Mayor Will Whitfoot smiling at us. "I knew that you would be in town, Paladin," he said. "But I would have never thought I would see Frodo Baggins or Folco Boffin in town at the very same time. Welcome to Michel Delving!"

We invited him to join us for a drink, which he gladly accepted. “I was just starting home for the night. Myself and my wife and darling daughter are headed to Sackville tomorrow for the opening of a new inn. And as Mayor, I am to officiate." "Ah, well...I do hope you and your family have a pleasant journey." Paladin said. "Tis a pity that you are leaving tomorrow, though. I had hoped to speak to you about that problem you were telling me about the last time I was here."

Folco and I exchanged curious glances.

"Oh, that!" the Mayor replied. "It has been taken care of. In fact, we have people there right now about to do an inspection."

Now my curiosity was truly piqued and I had to ask, "Inspection? Of what?"

The Mayor and Paladin then told us of how cracks had been found developing in the roof of the Town Hole. The Hole had occupied its place of prominence for many a year without so much as a sign of anything amiss, and it was only after an inordinate amount of rainfall this past spring that the first crack had blatantly appeared, soon followed by others. There had been some leaking, but it had been an immeasurably small amount, fortunately. Upon learning of this news, Paladin, had offered to send the best carpenters and smial builders to work on shoring up the roof and doing any necessary repairs. But the Mayor in turn assured him that the local builders had agreed to do some patch work. In fact, they had been working there this very day, and were pleased to report that there seemed to be no major problems. Therefore, Mayor Whitfoot was going to attend the party as was only right, being the Mayor of the Shire.

"Can't let a party go by without the good Mayor present!" he said as he patted his ample belly.

The evening was getting on and the Mayor excused himself in order to stop by the Town Hole for a final inspection of his own before he settled in for the night. As he hefted himself to his feet, he asked if we would like to join him. We accepted his offer, knowing full well that he would be telling us stories of some of the officiating he had done at various sites around the Shire. Paladin had to drag Pippin away from his spot by the storyteller. He wasn't about to leave Pippin on his own for very long, especially after the Mayor commented on Pippin’s last visit to Michel Delving. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. I hadn’t realized that talk of our escapade in the Mathom-house had gotten back to Mayor Whitfoot himself. With cheeks blushing scarlet, I set off along with Folco, Paladin, Pippin and the Mayor to see the progress being made on the roof of the Town Hole.
We had no sooner arrived when a hobbit, whom I learned later was the Mayor’s assistant, came scurrying out the door, looking about frantically as if not sure what to do next, or who to look for.

"Ho there, Tom!" the Mayor called. "You look a tad upset. What is the matter?"

"Ah, Mayor Whitfoot!" the excited hobbit said. "Just the hobbit I was looking for! I fear the problem is worse than first thought, Sir."

Now, Mayor Whitfoot became the one that looked confused. “But when I spoke to the repair crew earlier today, they assured me that everything was under control, that there was nothing to worry about.”
Tom’s nervous demeanor remained unchanged as he shook his head. “Well Sir, they have found out differently. They’ve come to the conclusion that part of the Town Hole, especially the part containing your office is too dangerous for you to use. It appears that it’s ....well....it’s on the verge of collapsing! The Town Hole being built into the chalky hills of the White Downs and all-"

“Nonsense!” Will scoffed in mild annoyance. “You don’t need to give me a geography lesson! I’m quite aware of topography of this area! The Town Hole has stood for years without threat of collapse and it will stand a good many more!” With that pronouncement, the good Mayor proceeded to head for the front door.

“Sir...” Tom began, his brow wrinkled with concern, “It may not be wise to ...” But the Mayor’s bulk had already disappeared inside.

“Oh dear.” said Tom, as he fished his handkerchief from his waistcoat and mopped his forehead.

With a determined look on his face, Paladin started after the Mayor. “Stay here.” He ordered.

I’m not sure the directive was aimed at exclusively at Pippin or if Tom and I were included in that command. No matter, for Pippin wasted no time in following after his father.

“Pippin, wait!” I called, to no avail.

“Oh dear.” I heard Tom say again as I, in turn, followed after Pip with Tom puffing and mopping excitedly along behind.

We followed the sound of voices and caught up with Pippin in the Mayor’s office. Whereupon Paladin bestowed a frown upon his son, and me, before turning his attention back to a small crack in the office ceiling.

“You mean to tell me that this little crack is causing all the fuss?” Will asked Tom incredulously.

If anyone had asked my opinion, which they didn’t, fortunately, I would have been inclined to agree with the Mayor. The crack didn't seem to be that bad. It was neither very wide nor very long.
"Sir, that crack is just the beginning. If you’ll recall, this particular crack wasn’t even here when you left for the day. It appeared after the workers repaired the other one.” Tom gestured to a patched spot on the ceiling about two feet away from the latest fissure.

Will looked at Tom, then at Paladin, then back up at the small crack. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "I still can’t believe something so tiny ...Pshaw!” he scoffed again. “There is no possible way the roof is about to collapse. Why, the worse cracks were three rooms over from here!"

"I know that, Sir," Tom was as apologetic as he could be, but the urgency was still in his voice. "But I really think we should vacate the premises and stay out until the workers give the ‘all clear’! "

"Nonsense!" Will said again, taking a tone with Tom similar to one used when speaking to a child. "Why, I can prove to you that this ceiling is fine. Here!" he lifted up his walking stick over his head and began to jab at the crack. "See? Not a thing wrong with it!" the Mayor announced with a self-satisfied smile, which faded quickly at the sound that followed his final triumphant thrust. The sound was tiny at first, like someone snapping a dry twig. Then it became reminiscent to small pebbles slowly being loosed one by one, then gradually picking up speed.

Tom shrieked and fled the room. Mayor Whitfoot was still staring at the ceiling in astonishment, as bit by bit, plaster began raining down at an alarming rate, to the accompaniment of a noise that had now become a low rumble.

"Mayor," Paladin shouted, at the same time shoving Pippin and me from the room. "Get out of there! This instant!"

Pippin hesitated. “What about Father?”

“He’ll get out all right!” I replied, hoping my words proved true. “Come on!” I tugged at Pip’s sleeve, compelling him to move. Just before we turned to go, we caught a glimpse of Paladin as he made one last attempt to drag the still incredulous Mayor from the room. However, it is no easy task to prompt someone of Will Whitfoot’s considerable bulk and stubbornness to move quickly.

The rumbling crescendoed and this time there was no hesitation. We beat a speedy retreat down the hall and outside, clearing the hole just as there was an earsplitting crash behind us. We turned, relieved to see that Paladin was on our heels. But there was no sign of Mayor Whitfoot.

The Mayor’s assistant, Tom, however, was frantically wringing his hands and his handkerchief in turn. All the while, muttering, “Oh dear...oh dear....oh dear....”

Clouds of thick, white dust, billowed out of the door of the Town Hole, threatening to cover the gathering crowd of onlookers. Paladin took a step, intent on going back inside for his friend. I put a hand on his arm. “ Do you think it’s safe, yet?”

He started to answer but was interrupted by the sound of a hacking cough. The dust was already beginning to settle, and framed in what remained of the Town Hole doorway, stood an image in white chalk that could have passed for a statue of the Mayor, except this image was coughing and gagging....

"Will!" Paladin shouted, a mixture of relief and concern in his voice. "Are you all right?"

Mayor Whitfoot blinked and rubbed his eyes trying to focus on the direction of Paladin’s voice, as his eyes were so full of chalk dust that it was impossible for him to see clearly. It was a bit difficult to discern his answer to Paladin’s question for all the coughing and sputtering that accompanied it.

With the Town Hole in a shambles, every able-bodied hobbit was called upon to help dig through the rubble and find all known (and quite a few forgotten) documents, furniture and what not, including the Mayor's hat and his walking stick.

The Mayor spent his time, walking back and forth, shouting orders as well as asking if anyone had found his hat. At one point, Pippin looked up at the Mayor from where we were working together in the clean up. "When is Mayor Whitfoot going to get cleaned up?" he asked his father. "He looks like one of Pervinca’s flour dumplings!"

One of the other hobbits looked up. "Why he's right. Ol' Will does look like a dumpling!"

I fear as I finish this entry, my dear Cousin Pippin has helped to pin a new appellation on our beloved mayor. I can almost still hear some of the patrons in the common room of the Rose & Thorn, roaring with laughter over the Mayor's latest predicament and his new nickname, " Flour Dumpling."