The piece of crumpled parchment landed on the floor. That was the third piece in the last half hour. I glanced across the table to where Sam sat at my dining room table, staring at the assortment of notes spread before him, while he ran his hands through his hair in an air of frustration.

"It’s no use, Mr. Frodo. Oi’ll never finish this book on gardenin'."

At my suggestion some time ago, Sam had been attempting assemble a written collection of gardening advice, but his patience had worn thin after the first few attempts and he had put it aside. However, in the last few days something had reawakened his interest and he had attacked the project with renewed zest. Perhaps too much zest, for he had been working so feverishly that the fire of enthusiasm threatened to burn itself out before it had even been thoroughly rekindled. As I attempted to straighten the scattered notes on the table, I had the sneaking suspicion that we had a long day ahead of us.

"Well...not at the rate you’re going through parchment," I replied, taking the lighthearted approach. But Sam wasn’t in the mood for teasing, so turning serious, I added, "Actually, I thought what you had written looked just fine."

"Fine," Sam said with a disdainful snort. "But, Oi want it to be better than just fine. Oi want it to be the best book on gardenin' that’s ever been written."

"Don’t worry, Sam. It will be. You’re trying to get this accomplished in leaps and bounds. For now, just take it a little at a time. Anything you don’t like you can change later in the final revision."

A faintly disheartened expression came over Sam’s face. "Revision?"

"Your final copy." I said.

"Final copy?" Sam repeated. "Umm....how many copies will Oi ‘ave to make?"

"Sam, you’re thinking in leaps and bounds, again. You’ll get through this...but if you really don’t want to do this...then, don’t. There is no sense in making yourself miserable," I told him.

"Oh, ‘Oi want to....it’s just that...well, even though Oi knew that writin’ a book would be a lot o' work...Oi guess Oi didn’t realise it would be such a big undertakin’. He replied, then with a sigh he dipped his quill in the ink bottle and prepared to tackle another draft.

He barely had two words scrawled on the page when we were interrupted by a loud, insistent rap upon the door. Sam started to rise.

"Stay where you are." I told him. "Keep writing. I’ll get the door."

Curious as to who could be so determined with their summons, I opened the door to discover Sam’s father, Hamfast Gamgee, standing there, fist raised in interrupted mid-rap. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see Sam’s father, but I was bit surprised to see that he wasn’t alone. With one arm, he balanced a baby of about eighteen months of age on his hip, and at his side, stood a little girl who looked to be about nine, twirling a ringlet of auburn hair about her finger. At the Gaffer’s feet, were two small boys, identical in looks and age, which I later discovered was three years. Both seemed completely enamoured of the small pebbles lodged between the cracks of the flagstones upon which they squatted and kneeled; one of the boys even going so far as to pop a pebble into his mouth. Two more boys completed the Gaffer’s troupe. One a sandy haired youth of approximately seven was entertaining himself by swinging to and fro on the garden gate. The other, an extremely lively lad of five was busy trying to insert himself into a small shrub in the yard. (The very one that I had extricated the stray kitten from.) As a matter of fact, the lad’s twisting and turning and the accompanying noises were reminiscent of the antics of an overactive kitten.

The Gaffer looked a bit frazzled as he shifted the baby to the other hip and he wasted little time on pleasantries. " Mr. Frodo, is my Sam here?"

"Yes, I’ve been helping him with his garden compendium," I replied.

The Gaffer merely grunted and then addressed the little girl. "Poppy, take hold of Rufus and Rudy. And whatever’s in Rudy’s mouth, get it out."

That instruction delivered, he called over his shoulder, "Erling! Hending! Come here!"

The older boys weren’t quite as compliant as Poppy and the twins. The Gaffer muttered something unintelligible under his breath and the next thing I knew I was holding the baby as the Gaffer attended to the minor issue of Hending’s and Erling’s disobedience. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Hending out of the shrub. However, it required a well placed swat to the backside to convince Erling that the gate hinges needed a rest.

Gaffer Gamgee then marched his charges inside calling, "Sam! Samwise!" as I followed after, still holding little Carl.

Having heard his father’s summons, Sam appeared in the entry hall, looking more than a little surprised.

It didn’t take long for me to catch on to the situation and Sam filled me in on the most of the details later. The bottom line was the children belonged to Hamson, Sam’s oldest brother, who lived in Tighfield. Hamson’s wife had just delivered their seventh child. Apparently the birth had been a difficult one. (Although, one would think that after six children it would get easier...) At any rate, Hamson’s wife needed a little respite, so the Gaffer and Bell had agreed to take the children for a week or so until the mother’s health returned.

But, Sam’s own mother’s health had not been the best of late and unfortunately, this day she had taken to her bed. The grandchildren had proven to be just a bit too overwhelming for Bell at the moment. The Gaffer had been worried that this might be the case, but in his love for Bell he had indulged her. And while he loved his grandchildren, too, he was a little overwhelmed himself right now, what with his worry over his wife’s delicate health. It might have been easier had not Sam’s two older sisters been visiting Sam’s other brother, Halfast in the North Farthing. Marigold, Sam’s younger sister, had been quite a bit of help, but she was given to moments of youthful irresponsibility and daydreaming. And on this particular day, Marigold was nowhere to be found and the Gaffer had at last reached the end of his considerable patience. So, that left only Sam.

"It’s yor turn!" The Gaffer informed his son. "Oi’ve done lookin’ after these rascals for the day. Besides, Oi need to look after yor Mum."

"Sorry..., " Sam looked genuinely chastised. "I didn’t think, Oi was so busy workin’ on my book."

"Oi don’t care if yor workin’ on a history o' the Shire, Oi’ll not chase down one more child!" With that declaration he turned on his heel and headed back in the direction of Number Three Bagshot Row, leaving two of his former charges rolling on the floor of the entry hall and two more climbing the hall tree. Poppy stared up at me with wide brown eyes, still twirling her hair. Sam’s expression mirrored that of his niece, except he wasn’t indulging in hair twirling. However, a loud wail from the baby, still in my arms, snapped him out of it...

If I had thought before that it was going to be a long day trying to finish the first draft of Sam’s book, I was thoroughly convinced that it was going to be even longer now.

From the moment that the Gaffer had left, Baby Carl hadn't stopped wailing from the top of his healthy, little lungs. He reached for Poppy, who was still standing there, watching me in silence. Sam grabbed Carl from my arms and then gasped, looking at my shirt and britches.

"Oi'm sorry, Sor! Oi didn't know 'e was in need o' a change!"

I gave him a questioning look then followed his gaze down to my clothing, just beginning to feel something damp seeping through. Part of my shirt and the front of my trousers were wet...VERY wet.

Trying to be jovial about it, I said, "Not to worry, Sam! I'll...just...change."

I turned to head towards my room, but there was something blocking my path. Or rather,two somethings. Rufus and Rudy were now studying the cracks between the floor tiles, oblivious to everything else.

"Rufus!" Sam said with a scowl. "You an' Rudy let Mister Frodo pass by!"

"I Woodee!" the first one said while pointing to his look alike. "Him’s Woofus!"

"Sorry, Rudy," Sam said as he used his free hand to grab Rudy to make him move. "Move over so's Mister Frodo can pass by!"

"Um…Sam?" I called to him as I went on my way to the bedroom. "Shouldn't you take care of Carl?"
"Oh, yeah."

As I quickly changed into another outfit, I could hear Sam directing the children to fetch this and do that... or rather, 'Get down off there 'fore I tan yer 'ide!"

I noticed that Carl had stopped crying by the time I was ready to rejoin the group. That had to be a good sign that things would be a bit calmer. And when I appeared, drier and cleaner, things were quieter, but only because Sam had set them all down at the kitchen table and was feeding them the left over bread, cheese and fruit from luncheon. Erling and Hending were busy trying to see who could stuff the most swallow. Rufus was eating his cheese. (Although, he accomplished it one handed, as the other hand was employed in digging something out of his nose.) At any rate, he refused to eat the bread crusts. Rudy, on the other hand, was finished eating his share and was whining to get down from the table. Poppy was trying to help Sam feed of buttered bread in his plump, baby hands before stuffing them into his mouth. What didn't reach his mouth had, somehow, taken residence in his hair, or on Sam's shirt.

"Erling," Sam was warning. "You and Hending stop that an' eat yer food proper. No reason ter act like pigs. Rufus, quit whining!"

I turned to look at Rufus, who once again had his finger buried in his nose up to the third knuckle.

"Me Woodee!" the child whined even louder. "Not hungry!"

Rufus started to whine, too. "We done! Wanna play now!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Finish yer milk an' ye kin get down. Hey!"

He jumped up just as Carl managed to grab a cup and poured the contents all over the table. While the boys all hooted and laughed at the sight of their Uncle Sam jumping up covered with spilled milk, Poppy just stood there, of all things, staring at me, with those wide, brown eyes.

"Poppy!" Sam yelled as he handed Carl to her. "Take your brothers and go outside for just a little. Oi’ll be out in a moment."

Poppy looked at her brothers, then at Sam, then at me, before she whispered, "Are you sure you want me an’ the boys to go outside?"

"Yes, jus’ stay outta trouble while Oi clean up this mess!" He pointed to the door absently as he concentrated on the spill.

"Sam," I asked, watching the kids literally run out the front door. "Are you sure that’s a good idea?"

"What?" He replied, as he bent down to wipe up the milk on the floor. "The weather’s warming up and besides,they can’t get in ter trouble outside. What a mess! How much of a mess can six kids make?"

"I’m not sure, Sam." Although I’d spent much of my youth at Brandy Hall which had which seemed to have an endless supply of children, I had never been the one to indulge frequently in babysitting. "Although, I seem to recall my Great Aunt Sapphire commenting on the mess that Fastred and I could make when we visited her apartment at Brandy Hall...."

I happened to look out the hallway window. "Um, Sam? I do believe the children are heading down to the mill pond..."

"The mill pond?"

There, through the window, we saw the retreating figures of four boys and their sister carting Carl on her hip, skipping and running down the hill, already past Bagshot Row and almost to the pond beyond.

Sam and I both ran out of Bag End as quickly as we could move.

"Which way are they headin'?" Sam asked as we came to Bagshot Row.

I stopped and looked about, scanning the hillside below. "I can't... Wait! I see them! They're still headed towards the pond!"

"Who is headed for the pond?" a voice behind me asked.

I turned around to see Mundee standing outside with Rosie Cotton. It looked as if Rosie had been by pick up one of Mundee’s homemade quilts from the size of the package in her arms.

"Mundee," I gasped. "Did you, by chance, see some children pass this way a moment or two ago?"

"No," she said. "Rosie was just going to leave for the tavern when I opened the door to see you and Sam stop on the road." She glanced towards Sam, who was beating as fast a path as he could down the hillside. "What is going on?"

"We have to catch some children." I replied and pointed as best I could in the general direction of where we had last seen the children heading. At least he momentary pause had helped me to catch my breath. Still, I wasted no more words or time and turned to sprint after Sam. I heard voices calling from behind me just as I caught up with him.

"Mundee and Rosie are following us," I said as soon as I managed to get my breath again.

Sam looked at me startled. "Rosie's 'ere?" As if on cue, he managed to trip over a tree root, and went tumbling head over heels a few feet.

"Sam!" three voices called out.
Although I reached him first, it was Rosie who insisted on helping Sam to his feet. Meanwhile, Mundee was searching the water's edge.

She grabbed my arm to get my attention and pointed to the children. "Are those the children you're after?" she asked.

"Erling! Hending!" Sam called, face flushed, more from being flustered over Rosie’s assistance than from the actual exertion of his fall, or anger at his charges. "Get back here this instant 'fore I tan yer 'ides!"

Without waiting for a response, he started running after them again, Rosie close behind. Rufus and Rudy had stopped at the water's edge, content to pick up pebbles and toss them into the water. However, Erling had discovered some large, flat boulders in the water that served as stepping stones and wasted no time in jumping to first one stone, then to another. Hending, not about to be outdone by his older brother, was hopping from stone to stone as well. Poppy let Carl down but held his hand at the water's edge as she watched her brothers race on the stones.

"Erling, Hending," she yelled at them. "You get back here! You know Mama don't like you two to get wet!"

"Yeah," called out Rudy. "Don' get wet!"

"N'ya Nya! Can't catch me!" Erling could be heard saying.

I held my breath as Hending prepared to take a giant leap to the next stone. It wasn't so much the worry that the lad might drown, for I knew the water in that particular spot was not all that deep, but it was still very cold at this time of year. I shivered involuntarily at the idea of fishing someone out. The boy began to swing his arms back and forth in an attempt to build up the necessary force that would carry him to the next stone.

"Hending!" Sam shouted. "Don't you dare!"

Hending ignored his Uncle Sam and with a grunt and a mighty push made his leap.I half expected a huge splash, but instead, he landed with a thud on the stepping stone that Erling already occupied, tottering for a moment on the edge. Rosie clapped her hands over her eyes, hardly daring to look. But in a flash, Erling had extended a hand to his brother and pulled him to safety.

"It's all right." I told Rosie. "He made it safely!"

"He may be safe fer now, but when I get ‘old of ‘im, ‘is backside’s not gonna be safe from a hidin’!"

Erling stuck out his tongue. "Nyah nyah!" Hending followed suit, adding thumbs in his ears and wiggling his fingers.
Mundee took Carl from Poppy's grasp while Rosie took hold of both Rufus and Rudy. "Let's move so your Uncle Sam can get to Erling and Hending," Rosie said gently.

"Don't wanna," Rudy insisted. "I wanna fin' fishies!"

"You get yerselves back 'ere!" Sam yelled. "Iffen I come an' get you, ye'll be more than a wee bit sorry!"

The look on his face was enough to convince the boys he meant business, but it didn’t achieve the desired effect. Instead of complying, they refused to budge.

"Sam," I interjected, "perhaps you might try another approach. Are you familiar with the old saying about catching flies with honey instead of vinegar?"

Sam gave me a somewhat skeptical look, then shrugged. "Boys," he coaxed, as he moved to the first stone. "If you come back 'ere now, Oi won't spank you."

Unfortunately, the flies didn’t find the honey quite sweet enough, they remained safely on their rock and Sam wasn’t about to pour it on any thicker. With a determined expression on his face he hopped out onto the first stone. This was a cue for Erling and Hending to advance to the next boulder. I found myself holding my breath again.

"Sam!" Rosie called. "Please be careful!"

"Don’t worry, Sam is one of the most cautious people I know." I assured her.

But then again, Sam didn’t usually have to contend with the distraction of a handful of wayward children. It was at that ill-fated moment that Rudy, who hadn’t given up on his desire to ‘fin fishies,’ had seized the opportunity to escape Rosie’s grasp. He made a break for freedom and the water’s edge, running as fast as his chubby, little toddler’s legs would carry him.

"Wun Woodee! Wun!" Rufus urged, struggling to free himself as well.

Since Rosie was engaged in a battle of wills with the remaining twin and Mundee was encumbered with baby Carl, and Sam was in the midst of leaping to the next rock, I happened to be the only relatively, child-free, able bodied person available to stop Rudy’s dash for the fishes. Well...other than nine year old Poppy, who as it happened, managed to be right in my path as I turned to run after Rudy. I very nearly tripped over her as she stood staring up at me, wearing the wide eyed look of the infatuated.

I attempted a couple of times to go around her, but she moved whichever way I happened to. So there was nothing for it but to remove her from my path. I gently, but firmly, picked her up and set her aside, then hurried after her errant brother. As fortune would have it, however, Rudy was already at the pond’s edge before I caught up with him. He was squatted down, stretching chubby fingers out over the water.
"Fishies!" He squealed and stretched a little further.

I heard the sound of running footsteps behind me and with a swiftly stolen glance over my shoulder, saw Mundee , still clutching little Carl. Apparently, Rosie was still having it out with Rufus.

"Rudy, Don’t move!" I yelled as I nearly slid down the bank.

But Rudy was too intent on catching a scaly treasure and he merely leaned forward a little more...just enough to upset his balance. I made a grab for him and missed. With a howl of surprise he toppled into the water.

"Rudy!" Yelled Mundee.

Mundee’s cry, along with the rather loud splash Rudy made as he broke the surface of the water, must have startled Sam, who had just come to a somewhat precarious landing on the stone next to the one occupied by Hending and Erling. He jerked around, lost his footing on the slippery rock surface, teetered for an instant, then fell into the cold pond water with a resounding splash that put Rudy’s to shame...

                                                                  ***************
"Want more warm milk!" Rudy demanded. He was now about three-fourths of the way dry and clean in the bargain, after Mundee had insisted he have a bath after his ‘swim.’

"I’ll get it," Rosie told Mundee, who was busy serving up seed cakes to the remainder of her company.

"Would you like some another cup of tea, Sam?" Rosie asked before turning to the stove.

Sam’s face still had a slight pink tinge and he refrained from looking her in the eye as he muttered, "Ah... um... no. No thank you... Oi’m fine."

Sam had not achieved quite the same degree of dryness as Rudy, but then, there was more of him to dry. Of course, Sam could have gone straight home to change, but then that would have meant explaining to the Gaffer why he was wet. And that might have left the Gaffer and Bell with doubts as to the security of their grandchildren. So in order to spare Sam (and I suppose to a certain extent, myself) any further embarrassment, Mundee had insisted that Sam dry himself off at her place. She had brought in an armload of towels. I marveled at the quantity. I had never realized that anyone could own so many towels. It was fortunate that she did, for she had wrapped quite a few around Sam in a attempt to sop up the worst of the damp from his clothing.

She had placed a few more in the seat of the kitchen chair upon which he sat. But even with an abundance of towels a tiny pool of water had collected at Sam’s feet. I reached for the last available dry towel and began mopping up the puddle.
I wrung out the sodden cloth as well as I could then asked, "Have you any more towels?"

"No, I’m afraid I’m fresh out of dry ones." Mundee replied.

I didn’t find that hard to believe. I gave up and tossing the towel in the sink, I returned gratefully to my nice, dry chair. I was, however, tempted to ask if she had anything to take away the overwhelming smell of pond that permeated the air around Sam. I was fairly certain that the fishy aroma would linger on his person long after he had dried off. However, I held my tongue, for I didn’t want to cause Sam any more distress. He had suffered enough humiliation for the day.

Mundee, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so subtle as she wrinkled her nose at the aroma in the air.. She walked over to where Sam sat.

"Sam, I really believe it would be wise if you’d just take my suggestion and go soak in the tub while we wash and dry your clothes by the fire.You’re not going to keep your parents from knowing what happened if you walk into your hole smelling like that."

Sam’s face went scarlet again as he tried not to squirm. "No, Oim fine, Oi tol’ ye. Thank ye fer offerin’, though."

Mundee’s housekeeper, Sally, came in the kitchen about that time carrying a load of wet towels and another bundle of some sort after cleaning up the tub room. She’d heard Mundee’s suggestion and Sam’s response.

"Now, Mister Gamgee, Sir, if yer worried ‘bout catchin’ cold, while waitin’ for your clothes t’ dry, you can wear this an’ a warm blanket or two over it."

She set down her load of towels in the sink then proceeded to lift and shake out her other bundle. It was a rather large and frilly bath robe. "I know it will fit ye, as it’s my Mum’s and she’s ‘bout the same size as you. She left it here during her last visit, but I’m sure she won’t mind ye wearin’ it, considerin’ the circumstances an’ all..."

I thought I’d seen all the shades of red that poor Sam’s face could go through, but I was very wrong as I witnessed Sam blushing harder than ever. He struggled to be polite, and finally squeeked, "Oi really don’ think that’s necessary, Miss Sally. Oi don’ want ter be a problem."

However upon seeing Sally’s disappointment, he quickly added, "But a nice, warm blanket would be appreciated." He did his best to smile his thanks.

Rosie had Rudy's mug of warm milk ready, and after handing that off to him, she then presented Sam with a cup and saucer. "I went ahead and made you a cup of tea, anyway. I thought you could use another." She explained with a smile as warm as the steaming liquid.

"Thank you." Sam mumbled in a shy voice.
"Want more cake!" Rudy now demanded.

"Me too!" piped Erling.

"Me three!" chimed Hending, stuffing the last of his cake into his mouth, in preparation for some more. He then proceeded to wipe his sticky hands on the front of his shirt. When that didn’t quite do the job, he used Mundee’s linen tablecloth.

"‘Ere! Stop that!" Sam glowered at the his nephew. "Mind yor manners!"

"It’s all right, Sam really. It’s hardly my best tablecloth," Mundee assured him. "Besides it will wash."

"Well...at any rate, they don’t need any more cake, it’ll ruin their supper."

"Sam," Mundee interjected, "They seem to stay out of trouble as long as we’re feeding them...."

Sam relented and Mundee headed for the cupboard, then paused at the door to ask, "Poppy, Rufus, would you two like some more cake, as well?"

Rufus was, once again, too busy delving for some mysterious object in the depths of his nose to supply an intelligible answer. But I assumed, as I suppose Mundee did, that he meant yes.

"Ugh!" Sam snorted, and started to rise. "He needs to wash ‘is ‘ands, first!"

"You sit and finish your tea. I’ll take him." Rosie volunteered, and escorted Rufus to the sink. I must admit I thought it very brave of her.

Poppy, who was bouncing baby Carl on her knee, merely nodded slowly in answer to Mundee’s question. Every so often I thought I caught her casting a glance at me whenever she thought I wasn’t looking.

"Well, why don’t you give the baby to Frodo...," Mundee suggested. (I was just a trifle alarmed at that idea, I wanted no more encounters with leaky diapers.) "... and you come help me."

But much to my relief, the little girl shook her curls and said, "Uh-uh. I’d rather stay here." Then she turned adoring eyes in my direction, and scooted her chair closer to mine.

I had just picked up my now, cold tea as Poppy pulled her chair closer. However, I never got to drink it for baby Carl reached out his chubby little hands to me and grabbed my shirt sleeve, causing me to spill my tea all over my lap.

"Oh no!" Poppy exclaimed as she suddenly jumped up, sat baby Carl on the floor. "Let me help you," she said as she tried to wipe up the spilled tea out of my lap. "Bad boy!" she said to the baby and then confided in me, "Carl can be such a naughty baby at times."
"That's alright, Poppy. I can clean it up myself," I said politely. "Little Carl didn't know my tea would spill."

Poppy looked at my empty cup and then back at me. "I can get you some more tea, if you would like, Mr. Frodo," she said eagerly.

Before I could protest or stop her, she grabbed my cup, ran to the other side of the kitchen and proceeded to pour me another cup of tea. While she did this, my attention was grabbed, literally, by Carl, who was using my pant leg to pull himself up from the floor.

"Dah! Mah gah bah-bah!" he babbled.

I smiled, not sure I wanted to pick him up, recalling the last time I held him. "What are you trying to say to me, Carl?"

"He's saying he wants to go bye-bye," Poppy said, showing up suddenly by my side. In her hands was a tray with a cup of steaming hot tea and what appeared to be a hastily made sandwich on a plate. "I thought you might like something to eat with your tea."

"Bye-bye?" I asked, rather mystified, as I finally picked up Carl "Carl wants to go bye-bye?" .

Hending piped up. "That's just his new word: 'bye-bye.' Don' mean he wants ter leave."

"Hending, mind yer manners!" Sam spoke up. "Don't talk wi' yer mouth full."

"Now, Sam," Rosie chided him gently. "He was only trying to explain to Frodo."

"E's only talkin' baby talk. Ain't no sense ter 'is babblin'," Sam said, as his face flushed again Rosie's attentions.

"Oh, really?" Rosie, as she came over and relieved me of Carl. She lifted him up and wrinkled her nose. "I think maybe he was saying it’s time for a change."

The boys giggled at the table, and Rosie jiggled Carl, making him laugh. "Come on little one. Let's check that diaper of yours and then get you something to drink!"

Poppy still stood beside me, holding the tray. I thanked her and sat the plate in my lap and then took the cup of tea. I could tell from the look on her face that she was waiting to see if I liked the tea and the food she'd prepared, almost adoringly at that. So, I picked up the sandwich, although awkwardly with my one free hand (it was rather bulky with whatever she'd put on it), and took a big bite. One taste and my eyes opened as wide as saucers, I'm sure. The sandwich was slathered with Mundee's homemade horseradish sauce. I tried to smile at Poppy as I choked the bite down and tried to wash it down with the tea.

Trying not to choke, I swallowed the briney concoction. "Th-thank you, Poppy," I said trying to be enthusiastic. "It's very, um, tastey." I held the cup back to my lips and pretended to take another sip.

Poppy's face broke out into a big smile and she hopped up and down in excitement. "Oh, I was hopin' you'd like it! Can I get you anything else?"

Before I could respond, Erling and Hending began to giggle and point at Poppy. Then they began to sing-song, "Poppy loves Frodo! Poppy loves Frodo!"
Then Rufus and Rudy joined in, although I don't know if they understood what they were saying, "Poppy wuves Fwodo! Poppy wuves Fwodo!"

"That's it!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards the speaker, Sam.

"That's enough, Erling, Hending," Sam said as he stood up and pulled off the blanket and the remaining towels. "Rudy. Rufus. That means you, too. All of you get ready to go back to Gaffer and Gammer." He looked at Poppy. "Now!" he added adamantly.

Poppy, Erling and Hending jumped up without another word and did as their Uncle Sam had said. Rufus and Rudy were another matter. They got down from the table with no problems, but as soon as their feet touched the ground, Rufus slapped Rudy on the shoulder and said, "Gotcha last!" and took off in a run for the living room.

"Nuh-uh!" Rudy yelled at his brother's retreating backside. He took after his brother. "Gotcha last!" he crowed and from the sound of things, apparently took off down the other hallway.Suddenly there was a scream from Sally, followed by the sound of a crash.

I managed to get to the scene before the others to find Sally sitting on the floor, clutching her ankle and one of Mundee's big vases (and a few curios as well) shattered on the floor. Poppy moved to pick up some of the shards while Erling and Hending stood there, too petrified to move.

"RUFUS! RUDY!" Sam now bellowed. "GET YOURSELVES BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Carl, startled by his Uncle's yelling, puckered up his lips and began to cry. As for Rudy and Rufus, they came running back down the hall, Rufus in the lead, with Rudy close behind. Mundee and Rosie each caught a twin and kept them from running away,(which was quite a feat on Rosie's part, for one arm was occupied holding Carl balanced on her hip), but the boys still tried to slap each other, oblivious to the catastrophe they had caused.

"Sally," Mundee exclaimed above the din. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, Ma'am," Sally said as she tried to stand up. "I was dustin' your pretties on the shelf when them bra-um-boys came runnin' through here. I tried to stop them from knocking over that there vase Mr. Bilbo left you, but I lost my balance and knocked it over myself!"

"Just call 'em what they were actin like,"Sam muttered, "and they were actin' like brats."

He apologised profusely and offered to pay to replace the broken vase, while doing his best to get the children out of Mundee's hole. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it would cost him nearly a years wages to pay for another vase, as that one had been specially commissioned by Bilbo many years ago from an artisan from Undertowers.

Mundee merely nodded, but told him not to worry about it. There were quick hugs for Sam from Rosie and a hug from Mundee for me. Then with lots of hand waving and good-byes, Sam and I herded the children back to the Gaffers, while Mundee tended to Sally's ankle and Rosie gathered her belongings to head for the tavern.

I could tell that Sam was reluctant to part from Rosie. From the way he blushed and fidgeted while in her company, I imagine it was obvious to her, as well. It seemed that she tried hard to make things easier for him. And, I made a mental note to give him a few words of encouragement as soon as we had left the girls’ presence. I’m not sure how much he took my words to heart, though, for his pride had been sorely tested this day.

We managed to make it to Sam’s without any further mishaps with the children, and by the time we arrived at the front door my tea stained trousers had dried.

On the way, Sam had warned the children against saying anything about the day’s adventures.

"Mummy says to always tell the trufh!" Erling asserted.

"We’re not telling....untruths..."Sam said, "but we don’t want to worry Gaffer and Gammer needlessly...do you understand?"

Erling merely looked at him with a doubtful expression, while baby Carl hiccupped, and Hending yanked on Poppy’s hair.

The Gaffer greeted us with a smile on his lined face. (Although, I could have sworn that his nostrils flared ever so slightly and made rather a face as Sam walked by him.) Marigold had returned from wherever she had mysteriously vanished and was now sitting with her mother. But it was obvious that the respite from the children’s lively company had done the Gaffer some good, for he looked rested and ready to welcome his grandchildren back into the fold once again. He swung Rudy up into his arms, and this time the face he made was unmistakable as he sniffed his grandson. He might have questioned us had Rufus not chosen that exact moment to indulge in his favorite pastime, which involved the insertion of a finger in one nostril, which he then pulled it out, examined in a fascinated manner and popped it and whatever was on it, into his mouth.

"‘Ere! You stop that right now, ya little scamp! Sam, you go take ‘im to wash ‘is hands, ans see if you can get ‘im to rinse ‘is mouth out, too!"
"What for? ‘E’s already swallowed it." Sam replied, but he led the errant Rudy to the kitchen, nevertheless.

The Gaffer invited me to stay for supper, but I declined politely, although not because I was put off by Master Rudy’s preferred snack. In truth, I was still feeling the after affects of Mundee’s fiery horseradish sauce.