CHAPTER 4

The next few weeks passed uneventfully.  Bilbo directed Frodo to the books written in Westron and Frodo learned to cook.  Once he got the hang of it he found he quite enjoyed it, although Bilbo had to suffer some rather indigestible breakfasts on occasion.

Frodo was beginning to feel rather lonely, however.  The only other hobbit of about his own age was Daisy Gamgee and she seemed to spend most of her time batting her eyelids at him and giggling.  It was very difficult to hold a conversation with someone who agreed, wholeheartedly with absolutely everything you said.

When Bilbo had suggested that he come to live with him Frodo had jumped at the chance.  Whenever he visited Bag End, Bilbo always had something interesting planned.  They would go on long walks, sometimes even camping overnight or visit the fair.  Sometimes Bilbo would take him to the market and at other times he would just sit and recount tales from his big adventure.  Frodo was the centre of attention, something that he had not been since his parents died, and he found it very comforting.

Now that he had come to live at Bag End, however, Bilbo had left him very much to his own devises.  For most of each day Bilbo would shut himself in his study and he got a bit crotchety if Frodo interrupted him too often.  In fact, for a few days, Frodo had tried an experiment, to see how many interruptions he could get away with before Bilbo started rolling his eyes and sighing.  He discovered that three times within two hours would usually do it.

Then he found another game.  Seeing how late he could stay up.  It was easy at first.  Frodo found that if he stayed quiet and still, just out of Bilbo's direct line of sight, he could get away with at least an extra hour.  When that stopped working he tried turning back the hands on the clock on the mantle.  That trick had to stop when Bilbo took the timepiece to be mended.  His uncle was a little surprised when the clock maker said that he found it to keep perfect time.

That was when Bilbo cottoned on to his nephew's tricks and consulted Bel Gamgee.  Bel laughed long and hard when she heard what was happening.

"My Hamson used to do the same sort of thing."  Bilbo looked shocked and she started to laugh again.  "It's a tweenage thing, Mr Baggins.  He's itchin' to stretch his wings an' stayin' up late is the grown up thing to do.  It's nothin' to worritt about.  You just mind he don't get away with it.  I know you, where Master Frodo is concerned.  You're too soft on him.  Not that what it's difficult to be otherwise with that sweet face."  She smiled and glanced at Daisy, who was sitting at the table, side to middling one of Samwise's worn sheets and trying to pretend she wasn't listening.  Bilbo only smiled, ruefully.

"How are the cookin' lessons comin' on?"  Bel asked, turning to the kitchen range and checking on her coney stew.

"He's doing very well, Bel.  I don't think he'll ever be as good as you but he should, at least, be able to look after himself."

Bel sniffed.  "Fancy getting' to his age and not bein' able to cook.  T'aint natural for a hobbit.  Just confirms all that I've heard about them folk down Brandywine way.  Beggin' yer pardon an' all, Mr Bilbo.  But its small wonder he's as thin as a lat."

Bilbo chuckled.  "Well, it's not really anyone's fault.  When his mother and father died no-one seemed to have much time to take him under their wing.  He wasn't neglected, mind you, just overlooked."

Bel refilled Bilbo's teacup.  "I expect that's why he was always getting' in trouble then.  Children will do whatever is necessary to get some lovin' attention.  If they can't get love they'll settle for attention and getting' into scrapes would have certainly got him that.

"You may be right, Bel.  He does seem to follow me around a lot.  He was driving me to distraction with interruptions the other day.  I'm afraid I may have got a little cross with him."  Bilbo sipped his tea, thoughtfully.

"Why, Mr Baggins.  I don't rightly remember ever seein' you cross." Bel laughed.  "Whatever did you do?"

"Oh, nothing terrible," Bilbo replied, hurriedly.  "I just asked him if he would please stop interrupting because I was rather busy.  I felt rather guilty afterwards because we haven't really sat down and chatted for quite a while.  But every time I find the time, he's not there.  What he finds to do all day I could not tell you and he certainly never tells me."

Bel sat down at the table and refilled her own cup.  "You used to go walkin' with the lad when he visited before, didn't you?"

"Yes.  But he must have got fed up with that.  And, anyway, we both seem to be too busy."

Bel smiled.  "Are you busy, Mr Baggins?  I know you like to sit with yer writin' but is it more important than Frodo?  And are you sure he's busy?  Daisy tells me he spends most of his time sittin' up a tree, reading.  Although what any sensible hobbit would be doin' climbin' a tree I don't know."

Bilbo was puzzled.  "I thought he must have found a friend and didn't want an old uncle around."

Bel let out an exasperated sigh at the blindness of bachelors.  "And what other hobbits do you know of in Hobbiton that are around Frodo's age?"

Bilbo stared at her blankly.  "I had never really considered.   Are there any?"

"No, Mr Baggins.  About the closest is my Daisy, and she's not really fit company for a gentlehobbit."  She cast a threatening glare at Daisy when the girl made to disagree.

Bilbo's confusion grew.  "Whatever do you mean, Bel?  Daisy is a lovely girl."

"And, there, you've said it, sir."  Bel laughed.  "A girl.  Young Frodo needs some male company.  There'll be plenty of time for the lasses later."

Lasses.  Bilbo felt a cold lump settle in his stomach.  Just how much did Frodo know about lasses?  Had any of the uncles at Brandy Hall taken him aside to explain that one?  Each time he felt he was coping with the problems, another reared its ugly head.  Did all parents feel as inadequate as this?

"Why, whatever is the matter, Mr Bilbo?  You've gone as white as Daisy's sheet."

"Nothing, Bel.  I was just worrying about the future again."  He shook his head.  "I must get out of that habit."

"Good gracious, yes.  Today has worrits enough of its own.  Tomorrows worrits often never happen."

"You're quite right," replied Bilbo, although he suspected he had better tackle this particular problem soon, from the way Daisy went all doe eyed when Frodo was around.  What had he let himself in for?

It occurred to Bilbo that he had not realised, until now, how much Frodo's presence would change his life.  His mind had conjured pictures of the two of them sitting by the fire, reading or smoking.  He had thought of the lad as a bit of company and had not realised just how young Frodo was and how much parenting he still needed.  Bilbo was determined not to let his nephew down, however.  If parenting was what he needed then Bilbo would have to rise to the challenge.  He had dealt with a dragon, for goodness sake.  How much harder could this be?

While all this had been going on in his mind, Bel had been pursuing her own line of thought.  "If you don't mind me saying so, I think what you need is some time together.  You both like walking.  Why don't you take the lad on a hike?"

"I'd love to.  All I have to do is find him to ask him."

Bel laughed.  "I usually manage to catch up with my children at meal times.  You can usually catch a hobbit at meal times."

Side to middling.  In poorer households, when a bed sheet started to wear thin in the middle it was the custom to cut it up the centre, lengthways and then turn the two pieces so that the more fragile fabric was at the edges.  The two pieces of the sheet were then sewn back together up the centre and fresh hems turned at the edges.