"Well, are you a strange animal that lives in bushes, or a hobbit lad?" Frodo asked the widened eyes. The head they belonged to began to nod vigorously, though 'yes' was not an answer that could be used to reply to Frodo's question.
"I'm not no bush animal, I'm a hobbit, and make no mistake!"
"All right then, I won't," Frodo replied with a smile. The young hobbit eventually worked his way out of the bush, but not without getting a few branches and leaves caught in his curly hair.
"Samwise, look at ye! A mess, that's what ye are, a mess and a ninnyhammer," Hamfast said, leaning down to his son and trying to rub the dirt off his face. "Mrs. Gamgee will have me hide, she will, and yours too, if ye come home alookin' like that."
"This, Frodo, is Samwise Gamgee, better known as Sam, unless he gets into a bit of a scrape," Bilbo said with a wink toward the small hobbit.
"Pleased to meet you, Sam." Frodo held out his hand and waited. Sam didn't realize he was staring at Frodo, and paid no attention to the outstretched hand. His brow was furrowed in childish befuddlement, for this new resident of Bag End seemed somewhat strange. He knew that Frodo came from Buckland, which was a queer place in itself, but he acted different than the other older lads, and his appearance was somewhat unusual. Instead of brown eyes, like most of the hobbits Sam knew, Frodo had dark grey eyes that seemed very old, nearly as old as Bilbo's own, lighter ones. A somewhat firm grunt from Hamfast brought Sam out of his stupor.
"And pleased t'meet ye too, Mr. Frodo, sir," he said, not taking Frodo's hand but making a quick bow instead. Frodo was taken aback by this formality, especially since Sam couldn't be older than his cousin Merry, though he said nothing.
"My, what were you doing in that bush, Sam-lad?" Bilbo kneeled down to meet the lad face to face, and chuckled when he held out a fistful of weeds.
"Helpin' my da, Mr. Bilbo. I knows whats to pick and whats to leave now."
"Indeed you do know what to pick and what to leave," Bilbo said, discreetly correcting the grammar. "But, it seems that little Samwise may need a rest," he added, since Sam's cheeks were even rosier than normal from the work.
"I'm not little anymore, Mr. Bilbo. I'm gettin' to be ver' big!" Sam puffed up his chest and the older hobbits stifled a laugh.
"Not too big for stories, I hope, and perhaps a bit of elevensies. Of course, if it's all right with your da." Sam's eyes widened once again.
"Y'said yerself, ye did, that 'one can ne'er be too old fer a good story. May I, da?" Hamfast nodded with a smile. He's only a small lad after all, no need to make him grow up too fast. And never turn down a free meal, I always says. He chuckled to himself as he watched Sam enter Bag End through the large green door, and then returned to his gardening.
"...or whether they should sit on us one by one, and squash us into jelly!" Bilbo was telling his famous story of the three trolls he had met on his first adventure, complete with hand gestures and wonderful imitations of the three bumbling monsters. Frodo had heard it many times, but Sam was giving Bilbo is complete attention, not even paying heed to the sweet cakes and milk Bilbo had set out for him.
Sam was quite a sturdy lad, though he couldn't have been more than eight. His shoulders were already broad and had strong lines. His small hands were already turning brown from work, and the dirt under his fingernails informed anyone that he had been working in the dirt. Frodo looked at his own hands, long, somewhat pale and almost fragile looking. He sighed and curled them into fists, feeling the familiar pang of being different. He had heard that folk were queer in Hobbiton, and many of his relations had said he'd fit right in with Bilbo and his neighbors. They were wrong, he thought, almost bitterly. I'm as different here as I was there. Sam's gasp pulled Frodo out of his own thoughts, and marked the end of Bilbo's troll story.
"Now, lads, eat up! I didn't set this out just for decoration, you know." He picked up a small honeyed bun with fingers still stained with ink, and popped the entire thing in his mouth. Sam tried to follow suite, but his mouth was much smaller, and he realized too late that it would be quite a chore to eat in this fashion. His serious expression of concentration while he tried to chew, combined with slightly bulged cheeks made Frodo laugh.
"Seems Sam-lad has bitten off more than he can chew, hm? Now, now, young Gamgee, take your time. The food won't scamper off the table!" Sam finished his large bite with a swallow of milk, leaving a white film on his upper lip.
"That I'll do, Mr. Bilbo," he said, picking up another small cake and being careful to take smaller bites.
"And drink up your milk, too. It'll put hair on your feet." Sam giggled at this, and wiggled his toes. While this conversation had been going on, Frodo found one of Bilbo's several pens and a blank piece of parchment lying on the table. He picked them up and began to scrawl a bit, practicing what little elvish he knew. Sam seemed interested when he was what Frodo was doing, and asked if he could see the parchment and the pen.
"Why, of course, Sam," Frodo said, handing them to him. Sam held the pen akwardly, and placed it on the paper. He stuck his tongue out in concentration, intent on what he was doing. He sighed when he was finished, and held up the parchment for Bilbo and Frodo to see. On it were shaky, crude letters, but the short word was spelled out clearly.
"S-A-M. Sam!" The lad beamed brightly, and Bilbo smiled back, with another wink.
"You're a smart little hobbit, Sam-lad."
"I'm not little, I tol' you, I'm gettin' ver' big!" "Of course! How could I have forgotten! I'm just a silly old hobbit, you know," Bilbo exclaimed, leaning his chair back. The three hobbits enjoyed the rest of their elevensies, until Hamfast came to collect Sam and bring him back home. Bilbo sent him out the door with a bag of cakes for his mother. "Tell her that this old bachelor can still cook, and ask her what she thinks!" He picked a leaf out of Sam's hair and exchanged goodbyes with the Gaffer.
"He certainly is a pleasant lad. Reminds me of Merry," Frodo mentioned, once Gamgees were out of sight.
"Yes, Sam-lad and Master Hamfast are two of the finest hobbits in Hobbiton, I'd say."
Author's Note: Yes, Bilbo calls Sam "Sam-lad". 'Tis a cute nickname, hm?