As soon as his mother had left Frodo had started to babble - beginning with how much they could do while they were together and ending with tadpoles and a new pond in Bag End's garden which Bilbo should excavate after lunch at the latest. Bilbo tried to convince his young nephew that such a thing was not possible - or rather that he did not wish to have a pond in his beautiful flower garden - but Frodo was determined and the look in his eyes made it almost impossible for Bilbo to contradict. Primula would have known this gaze for Frodo used it whenever he wanted to get his way and knew that his opponent could easily be twisted round his little finger. Frodo Baggins was a cunning little lad and knew very well about the effect his eyes could have on people, despite the small number of years he counted.

To Bilbo's relief the pond and its slimy inhabitants were forgotten as soon as lunch - vegetables of all sorts and a slice of pork for the two of them - was served and the matters of drinking were discussed. Frodo had already drunk two glasses of fresh elder juice and announced it the best drink he had ever had. "It's, by all means, better than mommy's sage tea," he had declared and shuddered in disgust by the mere mention of sage. To put his dislike into words the young hobbit had stuck out his tongue and given a nauseated sound, then had sighed: "Poor dad has to drink all of mom's sage tea now."

Bilbo had laughed at that and told his nephew that the tea would help his father to get better, no matter how bad it tasted. Frodo, of course, had not been convinced and stuck to his opinion, before resting an inquiring look on his uncle and asking why tea that should help one feeling better always tasted nasty.

"I don't know why that is, my lad," Bilbo had told him, ruffling the boy's curls, "but as far as I know, medicine that helps always has a bad taste. At least that's what my mother told me when I was a lad."

A mischievous, grin had crossed the child's face at that and Frodo had grabbed one of Bilbo's hands, bouncing excitingly on his seat on the corner seat of Bag End's kitchen. "Let us invent some new medicine then, Uncle Bilbo. We will make up some tasty drinks for all kinds of illnesses and no-one will have to drink sage tea ever again."

Bilbo had laughed hard and the two of them had spent some time deciding which sorts of teas were allowed and which were not. Sage tea was definitely on the not-wanted side of their list, together with nettle tea and cod-liver-oil.

But now even the teas and different medicines were forgotten and Frodo leaned on his uncle's left side, eyes half-closed, and was silent, but if he was drowsy or just gathering his strength for another five hours of talking, Bilbo could not tell. Since Primula had left almost three hours ago, Frodo had hardly ever paused in his reports and musings and in some way Bilbo was glad for the quiet minutes that were granted him, no matter how much he loved Frodo and his chattering. He had laid an arm around his dear nephew and held him tight, hoping that the child might fall asleep.

Frodo, however, did not fall asleep. Visiting his uncle was too exciting for him to drop off to sleep though he didn't mind the little rest he indulged himself to. His mind was already occupied with what he could do in the afternoon when he suddenly jerked at the sound of somebody coughing. "Who's that?" he asked puzzled, looking around to discover the source of the sound. Seeing no-one in immediate vicinity of the kitchen or the table he was sitting at, he moved closer to his uncle, his eyes resting doubtfully on the door which looked to the parlour.

Rubbing his nephew's arms Bilbo grinned. "Don't be afraid. It's just Hamfast Gamgee working in the garden."

Frodo straightened his back and look at his uncle insulted "I'm not afraid," he declared matter-of-factly, but his eyes were already back on the door if only for a moment. Then, giving Bilbo a sideways glance, Frodo got up and headed for the hall where he looked cautiously to both sides before turning round to Bilbo. "Is Master Gamgee making a pond?"

"I think he is only planting some new flowers," Bilbo said, wondering how long it would take Frodo to forget about his idea of a pond.

Frodo did not answer but hurried outside to see if Bilbo had guessed right. For a moment his eyes were dazzled as he stepped into the bright sunlight. Frodo blinked two or three times and his eyes quickly got accustomed to the light. His uncle had a splendorous garden and even though it was only Forelithe it was a firework of colors. Yellow and white lilies were in full bloom, as well as anemones and petunias. He admired the flowers for a while - somehow he had failed to notice them when he had arrived with his mother in the morning - when he suddenly noticed somebody crouching on the ground in an empty bed. He was digging earth with a small shovel. "Hello!" Frodo called out and advanced the hobbit in the garden with an inquisitive grin on his face.

Hamfast Gamgee hadn't heard him coming and turned around startled. When he saw the young lad with dark brown curls and shining blue eyes, he smiled. "Hullo, little master! Visiting your uncle, are you?"

Frodo's grin became even broader. Now that he saw the hobbit's face and heard his voice, he remembered Gaffer Gamgee again. He had seen him many times before and every time the hobbit had been working in his uncle's garden. Frodo remembered that the Gaffer did not live very far from Bag End though he could not tell where exactly.

"Mommy brought me this morning. She said she doesn't want me to become ill like my dad and that's why I'm staying here for a while," Frodo explained kneeling down beside Bag End's gardener. A soft wind tickled his ear as his gaze wandered across the empty bed. "What are you doing?" he asked, looking at the Gaffer again.

Hamfast Gamgee's brown curls hung into his face and small drops of sweat glittered on his forehead. The two top buttons of his shirt were open and revealed an already tanned chest. He smiled at the child and picked up one of the seedlings lying, yet unnoticed by Frodo, beside him and put it into one of the holes he had dug before. "I'm planting those seedlings so that Mr. Bilbo's garden will be beautiful even when those lilies and petunias are withered."

"What kind of flowers are they?" Frodo wanted to know and took one of the seedlings to have a closer look at it.

"The one your holding is an aster," the Gaffer told him and smiled, "and the one I've just planted will be a viola next Rethe."

Frodo frowned and looked puzzled at the gardener. "That's almost a year!" he exclaimed and looked at the first seedling in the empty flower bed in awe. "Why do you plant it now when it will only bloom in Rethe? Can't you plant it in Solmath? You would have more room for other flowers then."

Hamfast laughed out loud and ruffled the young hobbit's curls. "Some flowers need their time to grow, little master. Would I plant them in Solmath, they would still only bloom a year later, if they bloom at all."

"Oh," was all the young hobbit answered. He watched when Hamfast went back to his work, and thoughtfully turned the seedling in his hands. He sniffed at it but could smell nothing that he hadn't smelled before as well: earth, flowers and sweat. Frodo looked from the seedling in his hand to the ones Hamfast had planted and observed that the one in his hand was only one small flower whereas the ones already planted were small bunches with fine roots. "When will the asters bloom?" he wanted to know, holding the flower under the gardener's nose to make sure he got all his attention.

"They'll bloom from Afterlithe to Winterfilth," the Gaffer told, looking at the young one's expectant face. A smile crossed his face. Having three children of his own, he knew all too well what was on this lad's mind. Casting a sideways glance to the entrance door of the smial, he saw his master nod. "You can help me planting them, if you wish to."

With a dart, Frodo jumped to his feet, taking the Gaffer's shovel and grinning from one ear to the other. "What must I do?" Seeing that his uncle was watching them, his grin grew even broader, as he got to the gardener's other side and kneeled down again to have a better look at what the old hobbit was doing. The seedling he had still in his hands.

"If he causes any trouble, send him to me," Bilbo called over to them with a grin.

"I'm sure Master Gamgee will do his work all right," Frodo answered and blushed as he noticed the look Bag End's gardener was giving him. He mumbled something incomprehensible that should probably have been an excuse.

Bilbo shook his finger, but when he turned to go back into the kitchen to clean the table, he smiled. He had watched the two of them for a while now and the picture had pleased him. Frodo would be quite tired in the evening if he helped Hamfast in the garden. He could only hope that the lad was not too inquisitive to disturb his gardener. But there was no need to worry for Hamfast looked pleased as well. Bilbo remembered that he was always happy when one of his children helped him in the garden and obviously he did not bother that this time the child was not his own but his master's talkative young nephew.

~*~*~

"You know, we have tadpoles in our pond," Frodo told Hamfast and dug a new hole for the last seedling. He had turned up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and some of his dark curls were sticking on his sweaty forehead. "Do you think Uncle Bilbo would like to have a pond in his garden? I'm sure some of our tadpoles could find a good home here. I have already talked with him but Uncle Bilbo didn't look very pleased at all. Maybe you could help me to persuade him to make a pond. Don't you think a pond would look wonderful in the garden?"

Hamfast looked into the shining eyes of the child and wondered if Frodo would ever get tired of talking. In the last hour he had learned everything about the Baggins family there was to learn, beginning with how much Mrs. Primula loved her home and her garden and ending with the pond Mr. Drogo had made for her only a year ago. He patted the earth around the last seedling and got to his feet stretching his back.

"Are you finished?" Bilbo called over from the bench from where he had been watching them.

Frodo ran to him, forgetting about the answer Hamfast still owed him and jumped on the bench to give his uncle a hug. Bilbo could feel the heat of his nephew's rosy cheeks when the lad pressed his dirty face to his neck. Bilbo stroked Frodo's curls and noticed the warm wetness of his neck that was already cooling in the soft breeze. Maybe it had not been such a good idea to allow him to work in the blazing sun.

"Now, what was that for?" Bilbo asked being a bit surprised at the passionate embrace.

"Just felt like it," Frodo grinned and kissed his cheek. "Can I have another glass of elder juice?"

"Of course, my boy," Bilbo smiled and only minutes later the two of them were in the kitchen. It was cool inside compared to the warm sunlight in the garden and Frodo shivered slightly. The young hobbit sat on a chair at the kitchen table, his feet dangling as he watched his uncle preparing the juice. While he waited he noticed that he had become hungry again. Bilbo had smiled, knowing that so much work raised ones appetite - especially the appetite of a hobbit-child - and went into one of Bag End's pantries.

Frodo followed him, looking around curiously and saving every little detail in his mind. Who knew which of the pantry's treats could ease his stomach's need - not only today but also the next day and the day after. Maybe his uncle made some of the biscuits he had had this morning. Unfortunately Frodo did not see any more biscuits. On the shelves were only jars and pots with different jams and honey, butter, some eggs and milk. Bilbo took a jar of jam with him and Frodo hurried back to the kitchen, where he stood at his uncle's side, watching him open the cork of the jam jar and spread its contents thickly on a slice of bread. It was strawberry jam, Frodo's favourite.

Bilbo placed the bread and the mug of juice, together with three glasses, on a plate and went back outside. They called for Hamfast to have a glass of juice with them and he and Bilbo also shared a smoke while Frodo ate his bread.

~*~*~

Later that afternoon, after Frodo had gone on an excursion around the garden and discovered the rain barrel, the young hobbit sat on the ground delighting in wetting his feet with a watering can. Bilbo had looked for him only minutes ago. By then Frodo had still contended himself with standing in the grass and pouring the water over his feet but now he was sitting on the already soaked ground and splashed his hands and feet into the puddles around him, giggling and humming as he did so. His breeches were already soaked through and his shirt, hands and face were adorned with dirty spots. Frodo was altogether happy, having everything a young lad needed - sunshine, a big garden, permission to stay with his favourite uncle for several days and lots of water to splash around.

As he poured water over his feet once again he noticed a worm wriggling into one of the puddles he had made. Frodo grinned. "Do you want to take a bath, Wormy?" he asked the animal. "I can make you a bigger one, a better one. Just wait a moment, Wormy, and I'll have it prepared."

Frodo got up and walked over to a bed of herbs. There he dug a small hole with his hands, just big enough for Wormy. Then he walked back to fetch the watering can. The puddles he had been sitting in glittered in the sunlight and a sludgy noise could be heard when the young hobbit stepped into them and, for his own delight, jumped three times to see the water splash. Giggling he went back to fill the provisional tub he had made for the worm with water. "I'm finished," he called, took the worm off the ground and put it into his self-made worm-tub. "How do you like it, Wormy?" he asked, watching the worm wriggling, and pouring water over him whenever the one he had poured in earlier had sunk into the ground.

"Frodo, what are you doing there?" Bilbo asked, coming to see what his nephew was doing at the back of the smial. He saw him kneeling in front of the kitchen bed, the watering can in his right hand. He was talking to himself, and Bilbo wondered what he was up to.

Frodo jumped at the voice of his uncle and turned round. "Uncle Bilbo," he exclaimed and sighed in relief. A smile crossed his lips and he bid his uncle to come and see Wormy bathing.

Bilbo did not even find time to excuse himself for startling Frodo, or to wonder what or who 'Wormy' was. His jaws dropped at the sight of his young nephew who was wet and covered with mud and dirt all over. His dark curls were dishevelled and went into all directions. "What in the Shire have you done?" he asked, his voice a mixture of shock and amusement.

"Nothing," Frodo answered looking confused. He waved his hand for Bilbo to come. "Look, I have made a tub for Wormy. He is taking a bath and afterwards--"

"A bath is exactly what you need as well, my lad," Bilbo told him, looking over the young hobbit's shoulder and shaking his head. "Wormy, eh?" Frodo grinned innocently. "I believe Wormy would like to be alone now, don't you think? The two of us should go inside at once. It's getting late."

Frodo moaned. "I don't have to be inside that early. Mommy allows me to stay--"

The young hobbit was again cut short by his uncle. "You're in bad need of a bath, my lad, no matter if your mother would allow you to stay outside for a little longer." He put the watering can back to the rain barrel and, saying goodbye to Hamfast, he shooed Frodo inside.

~*~*~

Steam was filling Bag End's bathroom and amidst the vapour two figures could be made out. One was kneeling on the floor, holding a sponge in his hands and rubbing the back of a smaller person, who was sitting in the tub, giggling and splashing water at the other one whenever he thought he was not looking.

Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

Frodo was the one to intone the first verse of a song. His father had taught him the lyrics only some weeks ago but Frodo could not remember how it continued. To his delight Bilbo knew the song as well and sang on, while Frodo giggled and splashed and hummed the melody of the bathing song.

As the time went by Frodo's hands and feet turned wizened. The child looked at his hands for a while then at the hands of his uncle resting on the tub. A grin crossed his face and he looked at Bilbo impishly. "Now I look almost as old as you do, uncle!"

"Then let us get you out of there," Bilbo laughed and helped Frodo climbing out of the tub. He wrapped his nephew into a towel and dried his hair. When he rubbed down the child's back and arms, he heard somebody knock at the door. "Can you do the rest by yourself?"

Frodo nodded and Bilbo got up to open the door. Bell Gamgee greeted him with a steaming pot in her hands. "Good evening, Mr. Bilbo. I have brought you some stew," she smiled. "Me Hamfast told me he feared you're having a lot on your plate this evening, having your nephew visiting and all."

Bilbo greeted her, but hesitated to accept the stew Bell had brought until the woman threatened to let it drop if he didn't take it. "That's most generous of you, Mrs. Gamgee," Bilbo said smiling. "You really shouldn't have."

"That's no problem," she answered, her eyes shining as she peeked over his shoulder to see if she could possibly have a look at the little one Mr. Bilbo was hiding somewhere inside the smial. She had seen the master's nephew before but only from afar, and she thought he was one of the most beautiful children she had ever seen, his face full of joy and mischief. "A bright lad he shall be, after all what Ham told me."

Bilbo laughed. "That he is, bright and talkative."

"Who's talkative, Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo asked turning up behind him. He had put on his nightgown and yawned as he took Bilbo's left hand and leaned against his leg, tired eyes looking curiously at the woman his uncle was talking to.

"You can be quite talkative, my dear," Bilbo said with a grin.

Frodo did not answer but yawned again. Bell smiled lovingly at the child and resisted the urge to touch the rosy cheeks and run her hand through those dishevelled, damp curls. "I'll be going then," she said, without taking her eyes off Frodo. "Good night, Mr. Bilbo! Good night, Frodo!"

Bilbo and Frodo said their goodbyes and Frodo waved at Bell until his uncle shut the door. Looking at the pot Bilbo was caring, Frodo sniffed. "What's in there?" he wanted to know.

"Dinner," Bilbo answered with a grin and led his tired nephew into the kitchen.

~~~~~~

Shire Calendar: [ LotR - Appendix D]

Afteryule
Solmath
Rethe
Astron
Thrimidge
Forelithe
Afterlithe
Wedmath
Halimath
Winterfilth
Blothmath
Foreyule

Bath Song: The Fellowship of the Ring - A Conspiracy Unmasked