A/N: Thank you shirebound - You are wonderful, and I really do thank you for your review; and will change one of the items. They're not nitpicky! Your opinion is valuable, and I take each one to heart!

I get the word 'teen' from LOTR, Conspiracy Unmasked, where Merry is the one who refers to himself as a 'teen' the year before Bilbo left the Shire, making him about eighteen years of age. And an eighteen/nineteen year old hobbit seems responsible enough to assist someone (Frodo) in purchasing a house. But you're right, 'tweens' begin at the age of twenty. Merry is not quite twenty one (as I write his birthdays later in the summer), and himself on the cusp of transitioning from teenhood to tweenhood, and as a result, still gets into some mischief. Though Pippin has "just" turned thirteen, and yes, still somewhat of a child, he is now a teen, and that is how I see it.

JRR Tolkien, the author of Lord of the Rings, is the one who implied that Pippin, at the age of twenty-eight, actively sought out the next mug, and he didn't leave much to the imagination in the chapter, At the Sign of the Prancing Pony. Pippin's hobbity twenty-eight would roughly translate to about sixteen or seventeen-years-old in "Man" years. He not only seeks out the next mug, but he smokes pipes, too! Have you ever seen PBS's Tom Brown's School Days? (A very good series!) Thirteen and fourteen year old boys having a chat at the local pub and drinking a mug of ale. That was British culture, and if you look a little closer, you'll find that it was Hobbit culture as well.

I'm sorry you found the implication of the beer a bit offensive, and I will change it (to cheer! :-) ) because the essence of the chapter is not about beer, but about a nice day that Pippin will remember years down the road. In my eyes, and hopefully others, these hobbits are a group of friends who just enjoy each other's company and a mug *with* dinner, or while they have a fireside chat.

Thanks again, and have a wonderful day! :-)

Let the Learning Begin!

"We were only assigned to write an essay, Merry, not a book!" Pippin glared at his cousin who was now writing the fifth page of his report on Tobold's book of Pipeweed and Herblore.

Without so much as lifting his pen, Merry replied, "You really ought to read the book, Pippin. It's very interesting."

"But if you submit a report like that one, he'll expect me to do the same!"

"And why not?" Merry dipped his pen into the ink jar, "You're a bright lad--you'll think of something to write."

Pippin sighed, shaking his head. Merry had always been an overachiever. His hopes were dashed of compelling his cousin to write only what was expected of him. He peered over Merry's shoulder. He was even drawing an illustration of the leaf! Now Pippin was feeling the tickle of competition. Not to be outdone by his older cousin, he casually walked back to his desk and sat down. Pippin began wracking his brain for every twenty-dollar word he could think of. He thought old Toby's book was dry and boring--he would be the first hobbit to write an essay without so much as reading a page or two of the book!

A little while later, as Pippin was finishing up his fabulous report on pipeweed, he heard some abrasive scribbling going on behind him. He smiled furtively; poor Merry--too bad. Calculations were Pippin's specialty. He'd let Merry work them out on his own...this was every hobbit for himself!

*****

"Good morning, Mater Peregrin! So you do have eyes behind your eyelids!" Breddo goaded Pippin. Merry stifled a laugh, then wiped the grin off his face when he saw his cousin glowering at him.

Breddo collected the writings and book reports from the lads, then perused through the them. "I see Master Meriadoc spent his time wisely last evening." Said the Tutor. Then he looked at Pippin, "Don't disappoint me, lad." He leaned into Pippin's ear, though Merry caught snatches of Breddo's remark, "Although I'm a descendant of the Tooks, we must not allow our name to be tarnished." He glanced at Merry. Neither lad said anything; each turned around in his own seat to face the wall in front.

"Master Meriadoc, please stand up and read your essay on Herblore." He handed Merry the report he'd turned in.

Merry stood up and read the entire essay. When he was finished, he sat back down.

"Impressive, lad, very impressive. Now, Master Peregrin, please read to us your interpretation of Master Horblower's exposition on Herblore." He handed Pippin his report.

Pippin stood up and read aloud the report he'd so cleverly written the evening before. When he was finished, however, both Merry and the Tutor were more confused than enlightened. Master Breddo scratched his head, "What exactly did you just read to me?"

"My report on Pipeweed and Herblore." Said Pippin.

"Did you even bother to read the book?"

Pippin hemmed and hawed something about reading the first two pages.

"Master Peregrin! You shall have ready for me tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, another essay. One that reflects a learned mind like your cousin! And read the book this time!" Pippin blushed when Breddo proceeded to rip up the report Pippin handed back to him.

"Now, Master Meriadoc, you shall explain to me, how many gallons equal a bushel."

Merry stood up from his desk, hands in his pockets. He mumbled his answer.

"Bring your hands out of your pockets stand up straight and speak loudly so everyone can hear!" Breddo bellowed. "Is that how you intend to answer questions posed to you as Master of the Hall?" He smirked. "Yes," he said, in answer to Merry's questioning look. "I've tutored one of your cousins at Brandy Hall. I know who you are. Now answer me! How many gallons are in a bushel?"

Merry slowly took his hands out of his pockets; red in the face--both chagrined and angry--he took a deep breath. "Four." He said meekly.

Pippin almost fell out of his chair laughing. He gradually became aware that he was the only one laughing. He quieted down.

"Now, lad," Breddo spoke to Merry, "every single one of your calculations on this paper were correct--all except the ones with measurements involved. I don't understand it other than you are confused by the tables." He went to the bookshelves and gazed around until he found the book he was looking for. He pulled it out and gave it to Merry, opened to a page with the measurement tables written in definition form. "Study this while I excuse myself for a short while. I have an appointment with Mister Paladin in his office at ten o'clock, and I am always prompt." Breddo handed Pippin yet another book, but this time it was about the history of Great Smials. He knew Pippin loved history. "Read this, Master Peregrin, and I shall expect an essay before you leave at noon today." Then he left the two cousins to themselves.

The bright morning sunshine was glaring through the open sheers and landing upon the pages of Pippin's book. As much as he tried different sitting positions, he couldn't escape the bright rays. He could see his cousin quietly studying his measurements; his desk was situated next to the window. "Merry, would you close the sheers?"

Merry did not look up from his studying. "I'm studying." He replied. Resting upon the hind legs of his chair, Merry rocked back and forth as he teetered upon them. He wasn't about to get up.

Pippin got up to close them, and upon turning around he accidentally knocked over the jar of ink--on top of Merry's book report. Merry fell over backwards as he scrambled to avoid the black ink, but it dripped all over his legs, the desk, the floor....and his report. "Pippin!" Merry got up and surveyed the mess. "Just look at what....!" He looked at his ruined book report, and he was angry. "You wanted to do that all along, didn't you? My report was better than yours, and you're jealous!"

"It was an accident!" Pippin retorted, "Me jealous over you? Don't' be ridiculous! At least I can add--at least I know what a bushel is! I won't make my father a pauper with my erroneous measurements!"

That remark cut Merry to the heart. He'd always struggled to keep the tables straight in his head, and Pippin knew that. Merry's dad wasn't a farmer like Pippin's and so wasn't exposed to sums and measurements as Pippin had been since early childhood.

For his part, Pippin saw the effects of his cruel words and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Merry."

Merry sat down in his now upright chair and sadly tossed his report into the waste can. "Don't you see what he's doing, Pippin? He's setting us against one another." Merry looked at his cousin, "He's humiliated me and he's humiliated you. My tutor at Brandy Hall never did that. Breddo's up to something."

Pippin reviewed in his mind all the events of the morning and agreed. They hadn't had an argument in years. "I've got an idea!"