Chapter Five: Farmer Broadbelt

Merry had no more nightmares that night and the next morning the hobbits continued on their way. They were planning on journeying to Bywater to stay for a day or two. After three days of traveling (to add to the "adventurous" part of their trip, they were taking the long way through the countryside), the weather that had been cloudless and warm turned against them. They were forced to find shelter from the howling wind and driving rain in a small cave.

"Oh, why did it have to rain?" Merry lamented, drawing his grey woolen cloak tighter around him. "The weather was so enjoyable!"

"You know, me Gaffer said—before we left—that it would rain today," Sam commented, chewing on a bit of sausage.

"The Gaffer is never wrong," said Frodo as he popped a mushroom into his mouth.

"I wonder how he knows?"

"Well, I’m not sure, Mr. Merry, but he says that the air smells different somehow when it’s getting ready to rain. I can’t smell the difference yet, but I s’pose that comes with practice."

"Hmm. I wonder if I could ever learn that," mused Frodo thoughtfully. "Maybe the Gaffer could teach me."

"I’m sure you could, Mr. Frodo, but I don’t think it could be taught, if you take my meanin’; I kinda think it’s just somethin’ you learn on your own."

Frodo considered this. "I suppose you’re right, Sam," he agreed with a sigh. "Well, then I shall have to work on it."

Merry yawned. "Well, I’m sure this is all very interesting, but shouldn’t we be moving on now? The rain’s slowed a bit."

Frodo laughed and gathered his things together. "You just can’t sit still for long, can you Merry?" The youngest hobbit grinned and handed his things to Frodo to pack up. Sam was busy cleaning up their lunch and putting the fire out, so Frodo packed his things for him.

***

After walking for several hours, the hobbits came upon a large cornfield, the stalks reaching above their heads. "Let’s see if we can find the farmer’s house, and we’ll ask him permission to rest here awhile," Frodo suggested. "Or maybe the whole night. It’s getting late." The younger lads agreed, and they made their way through the field. They had not been walking long when they spied a cloaked figure up ahead, pushing a wheel-barrow.

"Hullo!" Frodo called out. "Might you know where we three travelers can find food and shelter?"

The figure turned, and seeing the shivering hobbit lads, he hurried toward them, pushing the barrow. "What are you young ones doin’ out in this weather?" he asked as he neared. He was a fairly young looking hobbit, probably in his late 40’s, with sandy-colored curls and kind green eyes.

"We’re heading for Bywater, sir," Frodo replied.

The farmer looked the boys over and nodded. "And might I know what your names are?"

"I’m Frodo Baggins, this is Sam Gamgee, and this," he gestured toward Merry, who had nearly fallen asleep on his feet and was leaning on Sam, "is Merry Brandybuck."

The farmer nodded politely. "Ferdirand Broadbelt is my name. Pleasure to meet you all." A flash of lightning split the sky, followed almost immediately by an enormous clap of thunder that shook the ground. "But here I am talkin’ while you’re soaking wet!" he exclaimed. "Come along inside. I’ll ask questions later, once you’re all warm and fed." He glanced at Merry, who was now completely asleep, despite the storm. "Let’s put the little one in the barrow. He looks tuckered out." Frodo nodded and Farmer Broadbelt gently lifted Merry into the wheelbarrow, and taking off his own cloak, wrapped it around the boy.

***

Farmer Broadbelt was an excellent host. After the three young hobbits had warmed up by the fire they were treated to a delicious supper provided by Mrs. Broadbelt (Merry, of course, having awoken as soon as he smelled the food).

"Now, where did you say you were from?" asked Farmer Broadbelt, once they had all finished and were gathered before the crackling fireplace in the sitting-room.

"We’re from Hobbiton, and heading towards Bywater," answered Frodo, allowing Merry to curl up warmly beside him on the comfortable sofa. "Do you know how far it is from here?"

The farmer nodded. "Aye. ’Tis another days’ journey I’d say, if the weather improves—considerin' that you three are most likely goin’ fairly slow, havin’ such small lads wi’ you. Beggin’ your pardon, Master Merry, of course," he added as the youngest hobbit-lad sat up indignantly.

"When d’you think the rain will stop, sir?" asked Sam, after a moment of silence.

Farmer Broadbelt looked out of the large round window. "I don’t rightly know, Sam, but I s’pect that it’ll stop or at least let up by tomorrow."

"And you lads are welcome to stay as long as you like," Mrs. Broadbelt spoke up, sitting in a rocking chair with two-year old Daisy on her lap.

"Thank you very much," said Frodo sincerely.

"Think nothing of it," said Farmer Broadbelt, smiling. "’Tis our pleasure."

***

The hobbit-lads stayed the night at Farmer Broadbelt's home, and awoke the next morning to find that the farmer had been correct: the rain had stopped and the clouds were swiftly departing.

They quickly dressed and trooped down the hall into the kitchen. Mrs. Broadbelt greeted them warmly and served each of them a stack of delicious hot-cakes, smothered in butter and maple syrup. Merry eagerly dove into his, while Frodo and Sam were more polite and ate a bit slower.

After breakfast, the boys volunteered to wash the dishes—or to be more correct, Frodo and Sam volunteered to wash the dishes, while Merry had no choice but to help them. Mrs. Broadbelt accepted their offer gratefully, as she had a great many chores to do that morning, and gave them each a motherly kiss on the top of the head, declaring them to be "such sweet lads."

Once they had finished, Frodo went outside to help Farmer Broadbelt, while Sam packed up their things and Merry played in the kitchen with little Daisy, who seemed to have taken quite a liking to him.

Daisy was an adorable little hobbitling, and would grow up to be very pretty; with her mother’s chestnut curls and her father’s olive-green eyes, a small, turned-up nose, freckles across her cheeks and dimples when she smiled—which was often.

At the moment, she was taking great pleasure in playing peek-a-boo with Merry. She giggled and clapped her tiny hands in delight as he suddenly removed his hands from his face and said, "Boo!"

"’Gain, ’gain, Mer! Boo ’gain!"

"Again? All right."

Merry covered his face with his hands again, then suddenly removed them. "Boo!" Daisy laughed and bounced up and down. Mrs. Broadbelt came into the room with a basket of laundry in her arms. She smiled at the two and fondly patted Merry’s head on her way to the back door.

"Mrs. Broadbelt," asked Merry as she passed, "may I please take Daisy outside to play for a little while?"

Mrs. Broadbelt smiled indulgently. "Of course you may, dear. I’ll be washing the laundry out there anyway and I’m very glad of your help, keepin’ the little one out of my hair."

Merry grinned and picked up Daisy. "Oh, thank you!" he cried joyously. "We’ll have fun, won’t we, Daisy?" The small hobbit-lass giggled and clapped her hands in excitement.

Outside, the two found some wild daisies growing on the hillside and Merry attempted to make a chain of them for Daisy, but failed completely. "Oh, well," he laughed, putting one flower in the girl’s dark curls, "I suppose I haven’t much practice making daisy chains. You’ll have to settle for just this one."

Daisy didn’t mind in the least. "Pretty!" she giggled. She spotted a dandelion nearby and picked it. "Mer pretty, too!" she said excitedly, tucking it behind Merry’s ear.

"Why thank you!" said Merry in exaggerated pleasure. "It does look pretty, doesn’t it?"

Daisy picked another of her namesake flowers. "Make mama pretty, too!" She toddled toward her mother, with Merry following behind. "Mama! Make pretty!"

Mrs. Broadbelt looked up from scrubbing a shirt and brushed away a stray curl from her face. "What are you up to, little one?" she asked, bending down to Daisy’s height.

"Pretty, mama," the girl repeated, tucking the daisy into her mother’s bun. "Daisy pretty," she said, pointing to herself. "Mer pretty." She pointed to Merry. "Now mama pretty too!" She hugged her mother tightly.

"Why thank you, dear!" Mrs. Broadbelt laughed. "A pretty daisy from my own pretty Daisy!" She pulled out of her daughter’s embrace and planted a quick kiss on the girl’s rosy cheek. "You go on and play now, Daisy-lass. Mama has chores to do."

"Come on, Mer!" Daisy cried excitedly, grabbing Merry’s hand and pulling him back to the hill. "Get more daisies! Make papa pretty, and Frodo pretty and Sam pretty!"

***

By elevenses, everyone was "pretty;" unable to resist indulging the sweet little Daisy, they good-naturedly wore their assorted flowers (Farmer Broadbelt a poppy, Frodo a forget-me-not, and Sam a white peony) all that day. Frodo decided that, though he was reluctant to leave the Broadbelts, they should go on their way after the meal. Sam had already packed everything, including some mushrooms and dried fruit from Mrs. Broadbelt. Merry was quite unwilling to leave, and would not agree to it until Frodo promised that they would come back on their way home.

The Broadbelts were also sorry to see them go; they had become quite fond of the boys, though they had been there for less than a day. Farmer Broadbelt offered to drive them to Bywater in his small wagon, but Frodo declined politely, saying that they would rather walk.

When they tried to explain to Daisy, the child burst into tears and launched herself into Merry’s lap. She would not let go of him through the entire meal, and poor Merry felt that she must think him heartless and cruel for leaving her so soon.

After eating (though he did not have much of an appetite), Merry took Daisy into the sitting-room to try to reassure the lass. Frodo and Sam kindly waited for them outside with Mr. and Mrs. Broadbelt.

"Daisy," Merry began softly. Daisy looked up at him, tears streaming down her round, rosy cheeks. Merry bit his lip and took a deep breath. "Daisy, we have to go. It will take a whole day to get to Bywater."

Daisy sniffled. "Mer…doesn’t like Daisy’s house?"

Merry felt tears welling in his own eyes. "No, no. Of course I love your house, Daisy, and I don’t want to go. But we’ll come back on our way home."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

TBC...