Sections in italics are taken directly from The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter 3, “Three is Company”

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CHAPTER 21

Frodo, Pippin and Sam took their tea in a kitchen that seemed strangely quiet and bare. Even Pippin did not have a lot of appetite, though Frodo put that down to the massive quantities of cake he had been consuming.“Our last meal at Bag End!” said Frodo pushing back his chair. They left the washing up for Lobelia. Pippin and Sam strapped up their three packs and piled them in the porch. Pippin went out for a last stroll in the garden. Sam disappeared.

Pippin wandered through the garden. It seemed a bit desolate, ready for winter too soon. He saw Frodo go down the path to the road. Still worrying about Gandalf, probably. He was a bit worried himself. Tooks had known Gandalf for generations. No one had ever heard of the old wizard breaking his word. But what harm could come to a wizard?

Pippin had to admit to himself he was feeling down. He hated that Frodo was being forced into this danger. He hated that Frodo had to give up everything he loved. He *really* hated the Sackville-Bagginses getting Bag End. And this walk across the Shire would be a lot more fun if Merry were along, instead of waiting in Buckland at the other end. He went back to the porch and sat down on his pack. Pretty soon Frodo came back and called Sam, and sent him down to the Gaffer’s with the spare key.

Sam returned in a few minutes.“Well now, we’re off at last!” said Frodo. They shouldered their packs and took up their sticks, and walked round the corner to the west side of Bag End. “Good-bye!” said Frodo, looking at the dark blank windows. He waved his hand, and then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path. They jumped over the low place in the hedge at the bottom and took to the fields, passing into the darkness like a rustle in the grass.

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Merry and Fatty arrived at The Bridge Inn just in time for an early supper. They decided to go to bed early, and get up with the dawn. If they could get an early enough start, they could arrive at Crickhollow in time for second breakfast.

The sun had barely come up when the two friends set on their way.

Merry was cheerful as they started over the bridge, glad to see again the familiar waters of the Brandywine, and the way to his home ahead. But when he turned his head to speak to his companion, he was shocked: Fatty’s face was nearly green, though sweating, his eyes were wide and frightened, and he gripped the boards of the waggon-seat so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“Fatty? Fatty?” The other hobbit did not seem to hear him. “Fredegar!”

Fatty turned his head just slightly, and in a raspy whisper said “So--much--water…”

Oh, dear, thought Merry. He had heard his parents talking of hobbits who literally panicked at the sight of the River. But he had never seen it first hand before. He sped the ponies up, but they were only three-quarters of the way across when Fatty lost his breakfast.

As soon as they reached the other side, Merry pulled over. He took out his handkerchief and wet it from his waterskin, to wash his friend’s face. “Are you all right now?” he asked with concern.

Fatty nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Merry shook his head. “No need to be. I’m told the sight of the River affects some hobbits that way.” He leaned over confidentially. “I’ll tell you a secret: I’m that way about heights.”

Fatty gave him a weak smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Then he gave a shudder. “I’m going to have to go back the same way.”

“Hopefully that’s a few weeks into the future.” Merry twitched his mouth mischievously. “And it could be worse--you could have to take the Ferry.”

“Good grief! No!”

Merry chuckled. “If you’re feeling better, we need to go. We’ve only the rest of today and part of tomorrow to get the house ready.” Privately, he thought he’d have a word with his mother. She might know of something that would make Fatty’s trip back over the bridge a bit easier.

They took the narrow road that led southeast, through Newbury, and soon came to the little lane that led to the cottage, just a couple of miles north of Brandy Hall, not far from the Hedge.

The two hired waggons were in front, already mostly unloaded. The round door to the cottage stood open, and a feminine voice could be heard “Move that table a little bit further to the left.”

Merry pulled the cart up next to one of the waggons and leapt down. “Mum!” he shouted.

Esmeralda came out of the cottage. “Son, you’ve finally arrived.” Merry stepped into a quick embrace.

Fatty had now climbed down from the cart, and Merry turned to introduce them.

“Mum, do you remember Fredegar Bolger? We call him Fatty. Fatty, I know you recall my mother, the Mistress of Brandy Hall, Esmeralda Brandybuck.” Merry always enjoyed showing off his beautiful mother, and his face shone with pride. The last time his mother had seen Fatty had been years ago at the Great Smials, at the funeral of old Lalia Took. They had been mere children at the time.

Fatty’s first thought was that if he had not been introduced, and did not already know better, he would have thought he was looking at Pippin’s mother instead of Merry’s, so strong was the resemblance to her nephew.

Esmeralda and Fatty exchanged the usual introductory pleasantries, and then turned to go into the house.

They entered into a wide pleasant hall. To the left was a front room, and beyond that a large spacious kitchen, to the right another room which could be used as a study, with the master bedroom beyond. Down the hall were two doors on either side, for a total of four guest bedrooms, and at the far end, a door opened into a large tiled room which contained only a single large copper tub, and a small stove for heating water.

Aided by the lists and diagrams her son had sent, Esmeralda had already overseen the unloading and placement of much of the furniture. Now that Merry was there to take over that task, she and the two lasses she had brought with her turned to hanging curtains and putting on the linens.

By the time luncheon came around, everything had been unloaded and placed except for half a waggonfull that was being taken on to Brandy Hall for storage. They transferred these items into the cart that Merry had driven, and he paid the carters the other half of their fee, so that they could return to Hobbiton before it got much later.

Then they took a break for a light lunch of cold sliced meats, bread, cheese and fruit.

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Pippin thought it seemed as though they had been walking forever that morning. It was unusually warm for early fall. They were looking across the Woody End towards the Brandywine River. The road wound away before them like a piece of string.

“The road goes on for ever,” said Pippin; “but I can’t without a rest. It is high time for lunch.” He sat down on the bank at the side of the road and looked away east into the haze, beyond which lay the River and the end of the Shire in which he had spent all his life. Sam stood by him--his round eyes were wide open--for he was looking across lands he had never seen to a new horizon.