How to be a Good Hobbit

How To Be A Good Hobbit
~Assena Brandybuck
(Pippin is 10, Frodo is 32, Sam is 20, Merry is 18)

Small feet pounded up the lane, picking up the dust. The owner of the feet was breathing hard as he ran, glancing back over his shoulder once in a while, then trying to run faster. A stone whistled past his ear, and he yelped.
“Come back here and get what you deserve!” yelled a loud voice from behind.
“No way! You’ll have to catch me first!” the boy yelled back as he stumbled, but kept on.
“Why run away, Pippin boy? We’ll get you anyway! Make it easier for yourself!” The bigger boys chasing him were quickly catching up.
“We’ll teach you to snoop around OUR garden!”
“You little scallywag!” A stone caught Pippin on the foot and he yelped and fell over, his dark hair getting full of dust. He scrambled to his knees. Bagshot Row was in sight. If he could just make it that far-”
“Gotcha!” A hand grabbed his ankle, and he kicked out, catching the owner square in the jaw. “Ow!” Pippin’s foot came loose and he got up to run again- straight into the hobbit in front of him. Hands clasped hold of his shoulders and lifted him off the ground. Pippin bit his lip and the fingers dug painfully into his flesh, and he squirmed wildly.
“Now I have you, Peregrin Took. You’ll not escape my boys so easily ever again. I’m gonna make you rue the day you were born.”
“Never!” cried Pippin, and kicked the hobbit in the groin. The hobbit wheezed and went down. Pippin wrestled free, leaving nothing behind but a torn-off sleeve.
“You little pipsqueak! Get ‘im!” Pippin wasted no time in running for his life up Bagshot Row. The going uphill was tough, and his chest hurt from running, but what waited if he stopped was tougher. He wasn’t about to stop. Almost at the top, his steps faltered. He was exhausted, as he’d been running for ages and what felt like miles. He stumbled and tried to make himself run further. His hair flopped in his eyes and he could barely see. Then rough hands shoved him from behind and he rolled over, splitting his lip in the process.
“Now you’ll not run away, tiny.” Several hands pulled him to his feet. He looked up at the bully in front of him.
“You bully. I’ll not cry, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Yah, you little mummy’s boy, o’ course you will.” He cracked his knuckles and raised his hand to strike. Pippin braced himself for the blow to fall.
“HOI!!” Pippin looked up, relief in his face. The bullies all looked around too.
“Nyah, you’re for it now,” laughed Pippin. The leader growled and punched Pippin in the stomach, then the whole gang made a run for it. Pippin collapsed over in the dirt, winded.
“AND IF YOU EVER MESS WITH MASTER TOOK AGAIN, I’LL MAKE YOU REGRET IT!!” hollered a voice from nearby. “I KNOW YOUR FATHER, MUNGO SANDYMAN!! AND HE’LL KNOW ABOUT THIS!!” Pippin was vaguely aware of footsteps running towards him, then gentle hands on him, lifting him to his feet.
“Now, Master Pippin, what’ve you gone and done this time?” It was the same voice, only much gentler. Work-worn hands brushed him down. “What’s happened to your shirt?” Pippin looked up, a cheeky grin splitting his face.
“Thanks, Sam. I owe you one.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly.
“You shouldn’t go riling up those boys, Master Pippin. This is the third time this month you’ve been rescued from a beating. And what’ll your mother say when she sees your shirt?” Sam’s voice was scolding, but his eyes concerned as he examined the blood smeared on Pippin’s face. “Did they split your lip?” Pippin shrugged, wiping it off on his wrist. Sam sighed. “You’d better come in. No doubt Mr. Frodo will want to clean you up.” He lifted Pippin and carried him inside. Pippin was grateful to that, as he still felt winded and his legs had gone all trembley.
“Hi Frodo!” called Pippin cheerfully as Sam lifted him onto the table. Frodo emerged from the kitchen, his blue eyes welcoming, changing quickly to concern and exasperation when he saw Pippin’s state. Sam sighed.
“Little rascal’s been throwing mushrooms again, I’ll warrant,” he said. Frodo shook his head and went to get a cloth. When he returned, Pippin was telling Sam all about how he’d escaped.
“-and I wriggled and wriggled, then I kicked him and I knew you’d save me Sam so I ran and ran and ran until I fell over then they were going to beat me then you saved me Sam cos you’re the best.” He grinned at Sam. Sam was well aware of what Pippin was trying to do, but couldn’t help feeling a little proud that this ten-year-old hobbit thought so highly of him. Frodo laughed and began wiping Pippin’s face.
“You really should learn that when you throw mushrooms at bullies, they chase you and beat you up,” he reprimanded. Pippin tried to look rueful, but it didn’t work very well.
“I had to avenge last time they chased me!”
“And who saved you last time?”
“Fredegar Bolger.”
“What am I trying to tell you?”
Sam shook his head. “Mr. Frodo’s right, Master Pippin.”
“Okaaay, I’ll be good,” Pippin sighed, then jumped down from the table. “Can I have some afternoon tea?”

****

Merry wandered down the road that ran past Buckland, across the Bridge, then on to Hobbiton. His father had dropped him there to walk the rest of the way to Bag End, for he was going to see his cousin Frodo. It was just the sort of day for a leisurely stroll in that direction. He began to whistle as he went, skipping up his heels every now and again with a loud “Ha!” or somesuch. Suddenly there was a shriek, and a small body came tearing towards him like his tail was on fire. With a start, Merry recognised him as Pippin.
“Pippin! Hi, Pip!” The boy looked around, and when he caught sight of Merry he looked like all his prayers had been answered (they probably had).
“Merry!” he cried, making straight for him. But instead of stopping, he ducked around behind him and hid behind his legs, trembling. Merry turned.
“Now what’s all this, Pip? Why are you running? And who did that?” Merry’s face grew surprised and shocked as he gently examined a blossoming bruise over Pippin’s right eye. “Oh, that’s a shiner, that is. Who did it, hmm? Who was it?”
Pippin went a bit red, but finally said, “’T’was Mungo Sandyman and his gang. They was lying in wait for me.” Merry growled and frowned.
“Mungo Sandyman, huh? Well. I’ll teach him.” As if in response, a shout was heard from further down the road, and the sound of many feet running their way. Merry turned. Pippin shrank back.
“I didn’t even throw anything, this time,” he squeaked, as the gang came to a standstill ten feet away. Merry glared.
“You wouldn’t be after Peregrin Took, by any chance?” he said, his voice dangerously calm. Mungo gathered his courage.
“Yeah. We have to give him something.” Then he swallowed. Merry was eighteen. Mungo and his gang were all twelve or thirteen. And there were six of them. But Merry had a reputation for holding his own in fights.
“Well, you’ve given him quite enough. Now clear off, or I’m going to have to make you sorry.” Mungo sized him up. Six of them, one of him. They could take him on. Then he caught sight of Pippin behind Merry.
“Poor baby, need your cousin to fight your fights for you?” he snarled. The other boys laughed and egged him on. Pippin stuck his tongue out.
“Nooo, I was just getting backup, so’s it’d be fair,” he retorted. Mungo laughed loudly and spat in the dirt.
“Backup or no backup, you’re going down this time. You’ve thrown one too many mushrooms.”
“But I didn’t this time!”
“Don’t matter. Didn’t get you for last time.”
“Did. You punched me in the gut and tore my shirt. And chased me ‘most a mile up Bagshot Row.” Merry glowered.
“You deserved it,” retorted Mungo.
“That’s it, Sandyman. You’ll regret picking on my cousin,” spat back Merry, who then proceeded to close the distance between them and deliver a smack to his jaw. Pippin hesitated a second, then jumped in the fray too, yelling like a banshee. A right brawl was under way in no time at all. Finally Merry sent Mungo’s gang packing, with strict instructions never to touch Pippin again. Mungo ran off with a sour look on his face and a rebellious look in his eye.
“Yeah, Merry! We showed em alright! Yeah!” Pippin crowed in delight. Merry shook his head.
“Honestly, Pippin, you shouldn’t go taunting them.” He wagged a finger at his little cousin. Pippin looked apologetic. “How did this all start anyway?” Pippin took a deep breath.
“Well, I was exploring in the woods by the Mill, you know, and I slipped and fell and landed in this big patch of mushrooms. I thought it as the best day ever! But then Mungo showed up and said they was all his, and I said Finders Keepers, and poked my tongue out, and he got mad and told me to clear off, then I grabbed the biggest mushroom I could see and shoved it all in my mouth at once, and he got mad and picked me up and hurled me out, and I crept back and stole some, but Mungo saw me, so I threw one at them, and they chased me, then I stole more to show ‘em, and they caught me again, and so I threw one, and they chased me, and then-” He broke off as Merry held up a hand.
“Pippin, Pippin, Pippin. You know what the problem is?” Pippin shook his head mutely. “You don’t know how to steal a mushroom!” Merry smacked his own forehead. “I can’t believe this escaped my notice! My own cousin unable to steal a good mushroom or two!” He sighed and shook his head. Pippin blinked at him. “Well there’s only one thing for it.” Pippin broke into a huge gap-toothed grin.
“You’ll teach me?”
“You betcha!” Merry smiled. Pippin jumped up and down.
“Yeah!! Merry’s gonna teach me to-”
“Shh! Secret, remember?” Merry clapped a hand over Pippin’s mouth, glancing around furtively. Pippin immediately silenced. Merry took his hand away and held a finger to his lips. “You won’t tell?” Pippin shook his head frantically.
“Secret, promise!”
“You know what happens to little cousins who break their promises.”
“They get pounded into the ground with big rocks.”
“Right! Come on then, Pip, me lad!” Merry straightened up. “I’m on my way to visit cousin Frodo! Want to come?”
“Oh yeah, okay!” Pippin nodded and skipped alongside Merry as they walked up to Bag End, chatting and laughing. As they came to the top of Bagshot Row, two figures rose up out of the potato patch, eyeing up the new visitors. Merry gave a cheerful wave.
“Mornin’, Gaffer! Mornin’ Sam! Lovely day!” The two figures nodded back.
“Good mornin’, young Master Brandybuck! I see Master Peregrin’s with yer. Not bein’ chased today, Pippin?” called the old Gaffer. Pippin shook his head.
“Nope! Merry stopped ‘em!” Sam and the Gaffer laughed.
“That’d be right, young’un!” said the Gaffer. “Sam here’ll take ye to the door.” Sam nodded and put down his trowel, joining the two.
“Hi Sam!” chirped Pippin, beaming up at him. “I knew you’d be lookin’ out for me! I was gonna run up here, but they headed me off.” Sam flushed a little with pleasure.
“Sure, Master Pippin, I couldn’t let ‘em hurt you.” Merry clapped his shoulder.
“Good on you, Sam!” Sam went even redder at being complemented by this respectable hobbit. They reached the door and Sam knocked.
“Coming, coming,” came a voice from inside. Then the door creaked open and Bilbo’s face appeared.
“Well, hello, Meriadoc, Peregrin, come in! Frodo’s in the kitchen, it’ll be a nice surprise for him, well, come in come in!” Sam nodded to the three and went back to the potatoes. Merry and Pippin stepped inside.
“Frodo, your cousins are here,” called Bilbo. Frodo appeared from the kitchen.
“Hello, Merry, Pippin! How are you? Sit down and have some tea!” He waved them in. Merry nodded to Pippin with a knowing smile. Pippin winked back. Frodo came in with a hot kettle and four mugs. “So what have you two been up to?”
“Oh, not much,” said Merry airily. Pippin giggled.
“Did those boys chase you again, Pippin?” Bilbo gave the hobbit-child a concerned look. Pippin smiled like a cherub.
“Yeah, but me and Merry showed ‘em what for, didn’t we?” Pip chirped. Frodo rolled his eyes with a sigh. Bilbo shook his head.
“You will never learn will you?” Bilbo said sternly. Pippin immediately nodded.
“Oh yeah, I’ll learn, really well, I’ll learn good-!” he cried, and got cut off by a sharp kick from merry under the table. Pippin glanced at him. Merry gave him and almost imperceptible shake of the head. Pippin immediately looked chastened. “No, Mr. Bilbo, I’ll not learn most likely.” Bilbo nodded. Frodo narrowed his eyes but he remained silent on the matter.
“You be sure to take a good example from young Merry! Now he’s a hobbit for a mother to be proud of! He’s courteous, polite, helpful, and knows how to keep his drink down.” Bilbo nodded again. Pippin almost swallowed his tongue trying not to laugh. Merry kept a poker face.
“Thank you, Mr. Bilbo. Thank you, Frodo.” He took the cup of tea that Frodo offered him and sipped it politely. Pippin’s face went red with suppressed laughter, which he hid behind his teacup. Frodo looked at him suspiciously. He looked back with an innocent face. Frodo shook his head.
“Peregrin Took, are you hiding something?”
“No sir, cousin Frodo, I’m not,” Pippin replied sweetly.
“Are you sure?”
“Dead sure, Frodo.”
“You just better not be hiding anything from me.”
“Oh, no sir, wouldn’t dream of it.” Pippin smiled a matching smile to the one on Merry’s face.
“We really must be off now,” Merry said, once the afternoon tea was over. “Good seeing you.” He nodded his head to Bilbo and Frodo. Pippin copied him.
“Thank you for the lovely tea,” he trilled. “Good bye!” And the two dashed off together down the lane. As soon as they were out of earshot, Bilbo chuckled.
“Oh, he’s learning from the best alright, young Frodo, you mark my words!” he laughed, rising from the table. “Learning from the best.” He headed off back to his study. Frodo watched them trade words with the Gaffer and Sam out the window as they scampered away.
“Yes, but learning what, I’d like to know,” Frodo said slightly wonderingly and slightly disapprovingly. But then he grinned. He sometimes wished he could go galavanting off with Merry, but he knew he’d never go along with all Merry’s wild ideas. Merry needed someone who’d follow him, and add to him. Someone gullible enough to follow even into trouble. Someone with a sense of humour as sharp as Merry’s own. Someone like Pippin.

****

“Ssssh, Pip!” Merry hissed. The two were at the back of Bag End, down by the back fence, looking up at the garden. “This is just a practice, but still you must be quiet!” Pippin nodded quickly.
“Yes Merry.”
“Now the most important thing is that you aren’t seen. You get in, you take a bit, and you get out. Don’t over do it or you won’t be able to get away. You can always go back for more. Got it?”
“Yes Merry.”
“Now go for it. Don’t rush it. I’ll watch your back.” Pippin nodded quickly and crawled away between the tomato plants. Merry smiled proudly. Pippin was a quick learner and an attentive student, for which Merry was glad. He had always loved his little cousin, and perhaps now they’d be able to get to have even more fun, since they were now hanging around together a lot. Having Merry there was a blessing for Pippin too- Mungo Sandyman had got his brother Ted to come and get Pippin, but as they’d approached, Merry had emerged from behind a tree.
“Is there a problem Ted?” Merry had called.
“My brother says you beat him, Brandybuck,” Ted had called back. Merry had nodded.
“I did, Ted, because he beat my cousin Pippin first. I was merely defending my family honour.” Merry’s voice had been level and polite. Ted had turned an eye on Mungo.
“Is this true?” Mungo had squirmed and nodded. Pippin had jumped up and down crying, “It’s true, it’s true!” Ted had nodded to Merry.
“Well then, I’ll leave you two to it. But don’t let me hear of you beating my brother again.”
“You won’t, as long as he doesn’t beat on Pippin first.” And with that they’d parted, to Mungo’s great disgust and Pippin’s great relief.
Now, Merry looked up into the garden. He could see Pippin in the cabbages, pulling one out of the ground. Merry shook his head. It was too big a target for Pippin! He’d get caught for sure! But to his immense surprise, Pippin got out with it. Merry grinned.
“Good, Pip! Hide it here, try for some carrots now.”
“Okay, Merry!” cried Pippin, pleased with the praise. He disappeared again. Merry sat back and waited. The warm sun on his face made him sleepy, and his eyelids drooped...
“HERE! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?” Merry jerked awake. At his feet was a small pile of carrots, which he quickly hid. Up in the garden, Sam had pulled Pippin out of the potatoes. Merry jumped the fence and ran up.
“It’s okay, Sam, put him down!” he called, running quickly up the garden. Sam looked around angrily.
“And what might he be doin’, Master Merry? Stealin’ my taters, that’s what!” Merry groaned inwardly.
“Stealing Sam’s potatoes, Pippin, is that true?” Merry asked in mock anger. Pippin nodded.
“Yes sir, it is,” he said, believing Merry to be angry. “I’m sorry, Sam.” Sam frowned. It was very difficult to stay angry at the little hobbit, especially when he did those big melting green eyes- oooh, there he goes. Sam sighed.
“It’s alright, Pippin, just don’t let me catch you in here stealin’ things again.” Pippin nodded.
“Yes, sir, Sam, sir.” He smiled and leaned up on tippee-toe and kissed Sam’s brown cheek.
“Alright, Master Pippin, away wi’ ye!” Sam said, embarrassed. “Enough o’ that! Go on wi’ ye!” Sam shooed Pippin to the bottom gate. Merry followed.
“Bye Sam! I’m sorry,” called Pippin again, as Sam disappeared back around the front. Merry turned on him.
“You better heed that warning, Pip! Never get caught in there again! Understood?” Pippin nodded apologetically. “You overdid it. It was just a training exercise! And aiming for Sam’s potatoes is aiming for trouble! You aimed too high for a beginner like you.” Pippin nodded again, turning on the big eyes. Merry frowned, trying to stay in the façard of anger. Secretly he was proud of Pippin for being so ambitious, but there was a lesson to be learned here.
“However, you got out of it well. That trick with the eyes and the kisses, the cuteness thing, works well on someone like Sam, who loves you to pieces anyway. It doesn’t work on me, so don’t try it!” Merry lied a little with that last statement, but Pippin still perked up with the praise. “It won’t work on someone like Farmer Maggot and his dogs, however. You be careful, Pip, who you try that on.” Merry allowed himself to smile at last. “And you got a lovely big cabbage, which I honestly thought you’d get caught with, and some carrots. Good work!” He ruffled Pippin’s hair. Pippin laughed.
“Thanks, Merry, I’ll be more careful next time, I promise!”
“Good. Now grab those carrots and we’ll be off!” The two grabbed their booty and walked off together, chatting and laughing, neither noticing Bilbo’s face disappear from a back window, chuckling.
“They’ve got spirit,” he laughed to himself. “And spirit’s a useful thing.”

****

It had rained a little over night, but the day was now warm and sunny, the perfect day for a picnic. Which was exactly what Frodo, Fatty, Merry, Sam and Pippin were doing. Sam felt a little out of place in such company, but Frodo had insisted that he come and take a day off, so he had. Fatty settled in the shade of a large tree next to the Brandywine River.
“Here’s a good spot,” he said, indicating that he wasn’t going to walk any farther. Frodo nodded and set down the basket.
“Alright, then. I’ll set up.”
“I’ll do it, Mister Frodo,” Sam cried, running to help. Merry laughed and sat back next to Fatty. Pippin looked around.
“Look, Merry, an apple tree! Can I have one?” he called, already heading towards it.
“After lunch, Pip,” Merry replied. Pippin sighed and came back, sitting next to Merry. Then he touched Merry’s shoulder.
“Tig,” he said. Merry looked at him. He grinned. Merry touched him back.
“Tig to you too.” Pip touched him again. -
“Tig!”
“Tig!
“Tig!”
“Tig!” Merry and Pippin were laughing fit to bust. Fatty touched Merry’s arm.
“Tig-tig.” Pippin and Merry looked impressed.
“Ohh, very good! Tig-tag!”
“Tog-tig-tog!” Frodo looked up.
“What are you three doing?” he called. Merry grinned.
“Playing Tig!”
“Can I play? How do you play?”
“Well...”
An amusing lunch of good food and making up rules for a nonexistent game for Frodo later, everyone was in good spirits, and feeling rather drowsy. Pippin looked up at the apple tree. The apples on it looked rosy and delicious. He headed for it and climbed up the large trunk.
“Careful, Pippin,” called Sam lazily.
“I will,” replied Pippin, sliding along a large branch that overhung the river. He plucked and apple and bit into it. It was delicious and juicy. Quickly finishing that one, he reached for a second, then a third. The third was a little out of reach, and definitely looked better than the others. Pippin stretched his fingers out, just brushing the firm skin of the apple. He poked out the end of his tongue and reached out-
With a cry, he toppled forward off the branch into the river. The other four jumped to their feet.
“Pippin!” Merry sprinted to the edge of the river, wading out, Sam and Frodo not far behind. They could see a dark shape coming quickly towards them in the fast-flowing river. Merry struck out and grabbed at Pippin’s shirt. His fingers slipped on the wet material and he lost grip. Not wasting a moment, he dived out, losing his footing. Quickly swimming after the flailing Pip, he lunged out, this time grabbing Pippin’s arm. He tugged and swam in towards the shore, and managed to get his feet under him. Summoning all his strength, he half swam, half waded out, pulling Pippin from the water. He climbed out of the river and collapsed on the grass, Pippin held tight in his arms. They were somewhat downstream of their picnic place. Pippin coughed and choked, spitting out water, and soaking Merry’s clothes where he was holding him, but Merry didn’t care. He kissed Pippin’s soaking curls, breathing heavily from exertion and fright. Pippin hiccupped and began to cry softly. Merry rubbed his back.
“It’s alright, Pippin my lad, you’re safe now, you’ll be okay,” he murmured, kissing Pippin again. Pippin sniffed and hiccupped again.
“I’m sorry Merry, I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “You might have drowned and it’s all my fault!” Merry pulled away a tiny bit and looked at him with surprise.
“No, Pip! You forget, I know this river inside out! I can swim, Pippin, and you can’t! I’m just so glad you’re alright,” he cried, hugging Pippin tightly again. Pippin hugged him back, burying his face in Merry’s shirt-front and crying from relief and fear now gone. Merry sighed, stroking his hair and kissing him.
“Come on, Pip, we better get back.” He stood up, still holding Pippin in his arms, and began to walk back up-river. It wasn’t long before Frodo, Sam and Fatty reached them. Frodo smiled with relief when he saw them.
“Oh thank goodness,” he sighed. Merry smiled back to them, and the four walked back, Merry holding Pippin tightly even when Sam offered to take him. By the time they reached the picnic spot again, Pippin had gotten over his fright, but was still glad to have Merry holding him. He peeped out at Frodo with a cheeky smile, then touched his arm.
“Tig!” Frodo laughed and touched him back.
“Tig back to you!”
“No Frodo, if you’re gonna tig me back, you have to do a chicken impression,” Pippin giggled. Merry laughed gaily.
“Oh, Pip, cut it out, we’ll play Tig another time,” he said. Pippin nodded into his shoulder.
“Merry?”
“Yes Pippin?”
“I’m glad you were here to save me. Thank you.” Pippin smiled at Merry and kissed him. Merry’s heart melted.
“You know I’d jump into a dragon’s mouth to save you, dearest Pippin,” Merry said softly. Pippin sighed and snuggled wearily into Merry’s arms again. Frodo and Sam cleared up the remains of the once-sumptuous picnic, and the five set off back to Brandy Hall.

That night, as Merry tucked Pippin into the guest bedroom bed, Pippin smiled up at him.
“Good night, Merry.”
“Good night Pip. Sleep well.” Then Pippin grinned.
“Merry?”
“Yes Pip?”
“I thought you said cuteness and kisses didn’t work on you?” he giggled. Merry swatted him with the spare pillow.

****

Pippin crept slowly forward into the mushroom patch and began picking them. Mushrooms were hard to get, because there was no covering greenery to screen him. But he had to get these ones. These were the ones that had started the whole business. Silently and steadily he filled his pouch with them, then turned and crept away. Steady...
He was out! He looked at the pouch of winnings in his hands and laughed. Merry would be so pleased! He dashed off down the road, heading towards Hobbiton, then up Bagshot Row. He couldn’t wait to see Merry’s face! And he knew Merry would be at Bagshot Row, because he was seeing how long the whole “Tig” thing was going to last before Frodo figured it was a joke. Pippin jogged up to the door and went in.
“Merry! Merry, look!” he cried, running into the kitchen. But instead of cheery company, he found Bilbo serving tea to Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins. Pippin’s grin vanished. He’d never met two such crabby, disagreeable hobbits in all his short life.
“If it isn’t young Master Took,” Lobelia said disapprovingly. “Tell me, dear Bilbo, do all your guests just barge in like this? Or just the ill-mannered children?” Pippin shrunk back, hiding the pouch of mushrooms behind his back.
“I’m sorry, Bilbo, I thought Merry was here,” he apologised, backing away. Bilbo looked around, slightly flustered.
“No, he and Frodo went for a wander in the woods,” he said, obviously wishing he had too.
“What’s that behind your back, young man?” Otho demanded. Pippin backed away in fright. “Show me!”
“It’s nothing!” cried Pippin, and he dashed away.
“Hi! Come back here, you rude little boy!” cried Lobelia. Bilbo shook his head.
“Children these days,” he said. “He’s probably got some game he wants to show his cousin, don’t mind him.” Lobelia frowned haughtily.
“When I was a girl, all the children respected their elders...”

“Merry!” Pippin ran up the path that wound between the trees. “Merry!”
“I’m here Pip! What’s the matter?” Merry and Frodo appeared around the bend. Pippin ran up, panting.
“The Sackville-Bagginses nearly ate me!” he cried, getting his breath back. Frodo grimaced. “And look, Merry!” He held the pouch up. Merry looked into it, puzzled, then broke into a wide grin.
“Aw, Pip, you rascal! You did it!” He handed the pouch to Frodo and caught Pippin up in a hug. “You scallywag! You really did it! I’m so proud of you!” He kissed Pippin’s cheek and ruffled his hair. Pippin laughed. Frodo looked puzzled.
“What’re these?” he asked.
“Mushrooms! For a victory dinner!” cried Merry, jogging off down the path with Pippin in tow. “Because Pip is the best little mushroom-theif this side of the Brandywine River!”
“Mushroom theif?!” exclaimed Frodo, running after them. “Merry, what have you been teaching him!?”
“How to be a good Hobbit!” Pippin cried.
“And he passed with flying colours,” Merry rejoined. “I wouldn’t trade him for all the mushrooms in the world.”

****

All was quiet. It was a lovely day. Suddenly loud barking rent the air, and two bodies dashed through the gently-waving corn-fields, pockets sprouting carrots. The smaller looked up at the taller.
“I thought you said if we were quiet-” he panted.
“Shush Pippin! Rule number one, it doesn’t always work!” replied the other.
“But-”
“Pip, if you steal and run away, you live to steal another day! Now let’s get out of here!” And the two disappeared over the fence at the end of the field and up the road.