14 May 1380 S.R.

The Sun had long ago sought her bed by the time Bilbo tugged on the
reins to halt. The grey pony had pulled the trap all the way from Brandy
Hall¹ and it had been a long ten hour trip from Buckland to
Bag End. As they disembarked the pony-trap, the weary travelers stretched
their arms and legs, each stifling a yawn.

Then as Drogo moved to unhitch the pony, Bilbo shooed him away, "I'll
see to him. You go on inside."

"Now, uncle, don't be absurd," Drogo said. He walked to the opposite
side of the pony from Bilbo and loosening a fastening and he added, "I'm
not bedridden yet."

Bilbo decided not to waste any further energy arguing with Drogo, and
instead went around to the back of the trap to awaken Primula and Frodo.
A few hours ago both of them had fallen asleep, Primula holding Frodo so
he wouldn't be jostling to and fro, even as she slept leaning against the
cart's side.

Bilbo touched Primula's arm first, 'Primula-dear, we've arrived. We're
at Bag End."

Primula opened her eyes, rubbed them briefly, and she looked down at
Frodo. Pushing back a stray lock of his hair from his face, she looked
up again at Bilbo. 'Where's Drogo?'

'Settling the pony down in the pen at the bottom of the Hill for the
night,' Bilbo replied.

"Uncle!' Primula fussed in a low whisper as to not to awake Frodo, 'He's
in no condition to be doing such!'

Bilbo nodded, 'I agree, but trying to get my nephew to go along with
such is like trying to get a Dwarf to pluck off his beard...neither are
very likely to happen anytime in the 3^rd Age!'

As he spoke he helped Primula to get out from the still sleeping hobbit-lad
by holding him still as she climbed out of the cart. After a quick stretch,
Primula scooped up the sleeping hobbit-lad into her arms, and then followed
Bilbo into a dark Bag End.