The Barrel-Rider
Chapter Three

As all the Brandybucks and their guests gathered to take their evening meal, Frodo looked towards the Master's table from where he sat with the other children in the Great Hall. He could see Bilbo, sitting next to Rorimac. He remembered Bilbo vaguely from visits early in Frodo's youth when the old hobbit had come and told him and the other hobbit-children of his adventures with the Dwarves against the dragon. Frodo remembered the tales well. He hoped Bilbo's presence would mean that there would be some storytelling tonight after supper, so he endured the teasing of his table-mates in good humour, even laughing with them without rancor. He kept one eye on the head table as he helped himself to a generous dinner; his appetite had been off since he had been disciplined. Now he ate well and smiled, and the other children soon caught his excitement and whispered to each other in anticipation.

The young ones were disappointed when dinner was over and Bilbo retired with the Master to talk and smoke. As they were herded out of the room by the aunties, Frodo thought he saw a twinkle in Bilbo's eye turned toward him. He walked out of the room and down the hall to the chamber he shared with other hobbits near his age, and prepared to go to bed early. Bilbo would probably make quite a long stay, as he usually did. Perhaps there would be stories tomorrow.

"Primula and Drogo's boy? Are you sure, Bilbo? The lad's an uncontrollable rogue, since his parents passed away, may they rest in peace. Not but what I'd be sorry to see him go, now that I consider him. The lad can be charming, when he wants to be. Menegilda's quite taken with him...but did you hear about his visit to Bamfurlong? You'd be taking on quite a job of work, adopting that boy!"

"Oh, I don't think so. The lad is spirited, like his father before him. Old Drogo was a bit of a rascal himself, as I remember. We used to do some willful things as lads together."

Rory muttered something around the stem of his pipe that sounded like "...Tookish Bagginses..." which Bilbo pretended not to hear so that he didn't have to point out to Rory that the Tookishness was on Frodo's mother's side, who was Rory's sister Primula.

"Anyway, I thought the lad is old enough to learn his letters properly. I owe my mother's sister's daughter that much, to see her only child is given every opportunity. He is a Baggins, after all, and I can teach him more if he were with me in Hobbiton than I can in this noisy warren of yours."

Rory grumbled some more, though he was actually pleased that Bilbo had taken an interest in the boy and had suggested taking Frodo away with him. He felt responsible for the lad, being his closest kin after his sister Primula had drowned with her husband, but he was never quite able to foster the boy. 'Too much Took in him!' he would complain, after yet another failed act of discipline. The child was wild, but still dear to the hobbit, being one of the oldest children in the Hall and looking so much like his dead sister, too.

Bilbo could see that it was going to take time to get Rory used to the idea, so he puffed on his pipe, blew a smoke-ring, and changed the subject. Time, and a willful young hobbit, would doubtless do his arguing for him.

Bilbo's visit ended, and Rory gave no thought to his nephew for many days, until the lad was brought into the Hall one afternoon by a half-panicked hobbit-mum. The boy was soaking wet, wrapped in a blanket and smelling like the river.

"It's that Mr Bilbo, sir! fillin' their empty heads with dragons and adventure!" complained the anxious woman. "I fished this one out of the River, where he had foundered, tryin' to ride a barrel on the Brandywine! Half-drowned he has been, and that close to joinin' his poor mum and da..." and then the lady burst into tears and hugged the shivering child to her bosom.

This prank earned Frodo another week in the study, a job he was rather beginning to enjoy, at least when old Rory kept away. The Master would sometimes sit behind his desk while Frodo worked, holding a book and watching Frodo from beneath his bushy brows. He made Frodo feel rather self-conscious.

When he was not there, Frodo would carefully open the books he cleaned, and tried to work out the meaning of the symbols scrawled in various hands. He knew how to draw his name, and very little else, but he enjoyed looking at the maps he occasionally found, or the fading inked pictures some of the volumes contained.

One day he arrived at the door of the study and found the Master and Bilbo talking together. He froze on the threshold; the books Bilbo had borrowed were stacked on the desk, and the book Frodo had damaged was right on top, lying open beneath Rory's eyes!