Author's Note:  My profound and heartfelt thanks to Arathlithiel for proofing this story and generally encouraging me to post this in fanfiction.net. 

 THE TRIALS OF MR BILBO BAGGINS

19th March, 1366 SR

Those confounded Sackville-Bagginses were at it again.  I met them today at a party at the old Boffin's place, and they had their brat Lotho with them.  Smirking all over the place were they, those Sackville-Bagginses, throwing dirty looks at me, and smugly stroking that stupid lad's head almost all through the party.  Took away all the mirth and joy of the party, I should say.  I couldn't entirely escape the implied message that since I have no heir, Bag End will certainly go to them on the day of my death.  What a loathsome thought!  They and that imp of theirs will wreck the whole place up!  Something must be done immediately!

Thought up a new party song.  Wrote half a page half the morning then tore it up in the afternoon. 

23rd September, 1366 SR

I suppose it was for the best.  I knew it was impossible from the start.  Myrtle Bolger is a nice lass.  But she can never understand me, and I can never be content living with her.  Oh, how I fumed when she told me to put a lid on my tall tale telling.  Tall tale!  Imagine that!  What am I supposed to do then?  Lie about going with Gandalf and the Dwarves to the Lonely Mountain?  Lie about Smaug and the Elves of Rivendell?  "We don't wish to attract too much attention, Bilbo dear," she said.  "People think you are really most queer sometimes, talking of Elves and dragons that way."  Well, it was nice of her to consent to my courting her, an old, "queer" hobbit like me.  But I can't go on now.  It is folly.  Hopeless.  I suppose I have to learn to accept the fact that I will die heirless after all, and the Sackville-Bagginses are going to inherit Bag End.  It's a very hard lesson to swallow, make no mistake.

Still have not found a word that rhymes nicely with "dwarves".  Wrote two pages, was in high spirit, but ran out of ink.

28th February, 1367 SR

My fifth night in Brandy Hall.  Cousin Drogo celebrated his wedding anniversary with the Mistress Primula three days ago.  Such fanfare and merriment!  And what a place!  There were Tooks, Bagginses and Brandybucks beyond count, and folks from other families.  It seemed that the whole of Buckland showed up for the party.  The hall was simply packed to the ceiling.  And what food! Old Rory certainly knows how to entertain guests.  Drogo plans to stay in Brandy Hall until autumn before going back to Hobbiton.  I can understand his decision. 

Added another verse to the party song.  I think I am going to sing it at Cousin Rosamunda's birthday party next week.  If they invite me to come.  But I think, in fact, I believe, they will.  After all, they are Tooks.