Highday, 30 Rethe, S.R. 1389 

Frodo lay half-dozing, feeling the lovely dream of his parents slide away from him; in dreams their faces were so clear. When he awakened it grew harder and harder to remember what they looked like.

Suddenly the covers beside him exploded. “Frodo! Are you awake?”

“If I wasn’t before, I am now, goose,” he grinned fondly at the seven-year-old. He turned on his elbow to face his cousin and poised his fingers over Merry, set to pounce.

“No! No tickling!” Merry giggled and quickly slid out of the bed. “Can we be awake? I smell breakfast!”

Frodo laughed and swung his legs out of the bed. Some mornings Merry was impossible to waken. Other mornings he popped out of bed ready to go. It looked like today was one of the latter.

“I’ll race you to get dressed!” said Frodo.

Merry darted out of the room, slamming the door so hard that Frodo winced. Merry’s clothes were in the room he was supposed to be sleeping in. Frodo slowly got up and went over to the washstand to splash the cold water on his face, and then took his time getting his clothes on. He knew Merry would be rushing about to dress in the room next to his, but the lad still was not very swift in the matter of buttons and other fastenings. He had to dress slowly if he wanted his little cousin to “win”.

He was just pulling up his braces when the door unceremoniously popped open again. Merry rushed in. “I win!”

Frodo laughed. “Well, almost, sprout.” He took hold of the lad’s shirt and pulled him close, to fix the buttons that were not lined up properly.

“Oh,” said Merry, chagrined.

“Did you start at the top, or at the bottom?” Frodo was puzzled, as they were one buttonhole off in both directions.

“Oh, I started in the middle--it was faster.”

“Aha.” Only a seven-year-old could come up with logic like that.

They followed their noses into the kitchen, where Bilbo was frying bacon and sausages, and talking to Balin, who was the only other person presently up.

“It sounds like a most interesting venture, Balin. I do hope that you will write frequently and let me know how it is going. Perhaps in a few years, when Frodo is older, we might make a visit there.” He looked up from the stove. “Ah, lads, good morning! Are you ready for a bit of first breakfast?”

“Oh yes, please!” said Merry. “I am so starved!”

Balin laughed. “Lad, you don’t know starved! Bilbo, remember when we were in Mirkwood and had no food left?”

“Indeed,” said the hobbit, as he dished up two plates for the youngsters. “it was the lack of food that tempted us away from the path and caused all the other problems we faced. When one thinks one is starving to death, spiders and other dangers do not seem nearly so fearsome.”

Merry and Frodo ate their breakfasts and listened in fascination to the conversation between Bilbo and the Dwarf as they talked about their time lost in the forest. Gandalf walked in, carefully ducking through the door.

“And I seem to recall that nearly the last piece of advice I gave you was to ‘stay on the path’! I don’t know why I even bothered.”

Bilbo and Balin both laughed. “It was not so much disregarding your advice, Gandalf,” said Balin, “as it was that we thought following it would result in death by starvation.”

Gandalf laughed and accepted the plate Bilbo handed him. “Well, one is in no danger of that at the moment,” he said, eyeing the bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, fried potatoes and mushrooms that filled it. He sat upon the floor next to Frodo, and took the cup of steaming tea Bilbo handed him.

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It was just before elevenses when the cart pulled up with the first of the guests. It was Paladin and Eglantine, with all three of their daughters: Pearl, ten-year-old Pimpernel, and four-year-old Pervinca.

Frodo and Merry were sitting on the steps playing Stones and watching Gandalf blow smoke shapes from the bench by the door. Merry was not catching many stones, as he was paying more attention to the Wizard than to the game. But when they saw the cart pull up they abandoned the game and raced down the path.

“Aunt Tina! Uncle Paladin!” Merry threw himself into his uncle’s arms. He was very fond of his Uncle Paladin. Frodo helped his cousin’s wife down, and then went to assist the lasses out of the back. “Uncle Paladin, Gandalf is here! And Balin, Bilbo’s Dwarf! And Gandalf has a new room! And we’re having a party tonight!”

Paladin laughed. “I know, Merry-lad. That’s why we are here. We were invited, after all.”

“Oh.” Merry squirmed to get down and hug his aunt. “well, I’m glad you got here first.”

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After luncheon, the rest of the guests began to arrive in earnest. Frodo’s elderly spinster Aunt Dora showed up, accompanied by her niece Daisy and her niece’s husband Griffo Boffin; they brought their lad Folco, who was a couple of years older than Merry. Daisy’s father Dudo was Frodo’s uncle, but his health was poor, and he never went anywhere. Shortly afterward, Odovocar Bolger, his wife Rosamunda and their son Fredegar arrived. Freddy and Folco were fast friends, and were overjoyed to see one another.

Milo Burrows and his wife Peony, with their two-year-old son Mosco came about the middle of the afternoon, about the same time as Ponto Baggins, his wife Ivy and their eight-year-old daughter Angelica, and Ponto's brother Porto.

It was just about teatime when old Odo Proudfoot came, on the arm of his son Olo.

Tea was served in the garden, with the help of Bell Gamgee and her daughter Daisy, who had come up to Bag End to help cook and serve for the party. They had brought Sam and Marigold along.

Children were everywhere running about and playing on the Hill, delighting in seeing one another. The adults watched indulgently, and chatted. Most of them were more than glad to see Bilbo finally taking this step, and were pleased to have been called upon to witness it. A few were taken aback to find the Wizard and the Dwarf there, but it was only mild surprise. Gandalf was known to visit every few years, and Bilbo had Dwarves as well every so often. The only one to even sniff a bit was prim old Aunt Dora, who had never quite forgiven Bilbo for having an adventure and for almost allowing Bag End to fall into the hands of the S.-B.s at the end of it. She for one, was quite pleased to see Bilbo cutting them out altogether.

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“Mother,” said Lotho, rushing into the smial, “something’s going on up at Bag End. There are coaches and carts everywhere, and people all over. It looks as though old Bilbo is having a party.”

“Without inviting us? Well, that’s only to be expected if you will allow yourself to get drawn into a brawl with that Brandybuck of his. I guess I will have to see if I can find out what’s going on,” said Lobelia with a sniff.

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After tea, Mr. Grubb had arrived, document case and red ink in hand. All the guests were summoned to the front room, and it grew quite crowded. Grubb lay the documents on a small table that had been prepared for the purpose.

They began with the adoption certificate, which Bilbo signed first, and then Saradoc, as Frodo's co-guardian signed, acknowledging his permission of the adoption.

Bilbo called on his witnesses: “Paladin Took; Ponto Baggins; Porto Baggins; Odovocar Bolger; Griffo Boffin; Milo Burrows; Odo Proudfoot.”

The witnesses stepped forward. Grubb picked up the first document, the adoption papers, and read them aloud. He then placed it on the table. Bilbo signed first, and then each of the witnesses.

He picked up the second document. This one was a bit of a surprise, as he read it, securing the inheritance that Frodo already had from his parents, and stating that Bilbo would not make use of it. This was necessary, as normally any possessions of a minor were automatically considered to belong to the parent. Frodo was to be allowed to draw ten silver pennies a year from his father’s money, to be used as he wished. Several of the hobbits murmured at this; many had forgot that Frodo was wealthy in his own right. It was good to know the lad was not just a fortune hunter.

This document was also signed.

Finally, the lawyer read the will. There was no surprise that Bilbo was leaving everything to Frodo. That was the whole point of this, after all. It was a bit unusual to have a clause in there about it taking effect if Bilbo should leave the Shire, but considering the troubles Bilbo had the last time he took a journey, most of the guests thought it a reasonable precaution.

As the last witness dipped the quill and added his signature to the last document, there was a sharp rap on the door. Because the room was so crowded, Esmeralda was nearest, and could most easily answer.

She opened the door, and when she saw it was Lobelia, she stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her.

“Lobelia.”

“Esmeralda.”

The two glared at one another like angry cats. Esmeralda spoke first. “Did you have an invitation, Lobelia?” she said sweetly, knowing the answer perfectly well.

“An invitation to what?” Lobelia was suspicious, and of course, rude as ever.

“Why to Frodo’s adoption party, of course.” She grinned maliciously. “I can’t imagine that such close relations as yourselves were overlooked.”

“What did you say?” she shrieked.

“Why, it’s the celebration of Bilbo’s adoption of Frodo as his heir! I do believe they just finished signing the last of the documents. Bilbo’s will, as I recall. He leaves everything to the dear lad.” While Lobelia stood there, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, Esmeralda stepped back inside and shut the door firmly in her face. She took a deep breath. That was fun.

Dora and Eglantine saw her, and laughed. From the front room, Bilbo called out “Who was it?”

“No one important, Bilbo, dear. No one at all.”

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Once the signing was finished, they all removed to the big formal dining room, seldom used, but sufficient for all the adults and for Frodo, who was considered the guest of honor. The children all went to the kitchen for their meal, and were served and supervised by Daisy Gamgee.

Gandalf had a word in Bilbo’s ear, and excused himself from the meal. The hobbits did not think much of it. It was well known that Big Folk had very little appetites considering their size.

Frodo sat there, eyes shining, feeling every possible kind of emotion. He kept forgetting to eat, he was so overwhelmed by all this attention. Finally, the meal drew to a close, and Bilbo stood up.

“I would like to thank you all for coming and participating in this momentous occasion. It is a very special time for Frodo and myself, and we are pleased to share it with all of you who wish us well.” He turned a proud and fond eye on his new young one. “Frodo, would you like to say a few words?”

Frodo blushed. But he gamely stood up. “I just will say thank you to everybody, and especially Uncle Bilbo.” He sat back down abruptly, to the sound of clapping.

“And now,” said Bilbo, “ if all of you would care to follow me out to the Hill, we have something special to end the evening.”

With Daisy shepherding the children, and the adults all following Bilbo, they went out into the twilight, and as they all headed up the Hill, the first of the great rockets exploded overhead in a rainbow of brilliant color, and the sparks floated down in great spirals. All the hobbit faces turned up in great delight, and the oohs and ahhs followed the display of great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire.* One rocket followed another and another, and then the Wizard passed out crackers and sparklers to the children, who ran about with them in great glee. He shot off one final rocket, which went up like a great fountain of fire, higher and ever higher, like a tower of light.

Frodo stood with upturned face, and Bilbo’s arm about his shoulders, and delighted in the wonder of it all.

And Gandalf watched the hobbits with a fond smile, and thought that if anyplace in Middle-earth could be like a home to him, it would be the Shire.

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*From The Hobbit , Chapter 1, "An Unexpected Party"