When the Dwarf Came A-Visiting  ~Míriel

Chapter 6 ~To the Market We Shall Go    Part 1

            Thursdays were always market days for Bag End.  Bilbo and Frodo would wake up extra early so they could get to the market when it opened.  They would carefully make a list the night before of all that was needed, so that when they came home there would never be anything needed (or wanted) that was not purchased.  It would be a carefully planned endeavor.

            Except today was only Tuesday.  We all woke up late, and a very grumpy Bilbo informed us that there was naught to eat for breakfast save for some apples.  Needless to say, Bombur was rather upset by this turn of events. (Although he ate more than his fair share of the apples.)  Thus, it was decided that a trip to the market could not wait another day.

            It wasn’t until about 10 o’clock (I am sorry to say that there was no second breakfast to be had that day) when we prepared to set out.  However, that was much easier said then done.

            First, we had to make our list.  For once I wished that Bilbo wasn’t so persnickety.  

            “Frodo, do we have eggs?”

            “No.”

            Bilbo carefully wrote EGGS onto the list.

            “Have we flour?”

            “No.”

            FLOUR was carefully inscribed after EGGS.

            “What about sugar?”

            “No!’

            Frodo had now come to the point where he wished we could simply be off.  Aside from the fact that he had missed second breakfast nearly as much as Bombur, I believe that being cooped up with so many house guests was beginning to get to him.

            “Hmm...Have we any—”

            “No!” Frodo interrupted.  “Bilbo, we have nothing in the cabinet, cupboards, or pantries.  You know that.  Is it really necessary to make a list?”

            Bilbo looked a bit surprised at the outburst but considered Frodo’s words.  “I suppose not,” he said thoughtfully.  He stood abruptly.  “Let us be off then!” he cried.

            Secondly, we had to figure out who was coming along. 

            “Bombur,” Bilbo said kindly, “I think it would be best if you stared here.  We don’t want another, er, incident.”

            Bombur readily agreed, but then Bilbo was faced another dilemma.  It would be rude to simply leave a houseguest alone.  Just then, a very sleepy looking Merry wandered into the room.  With the commotion of breakfast and market visits, no one had noticed that he had not made an appearance for breakfast.  (Or second breakfast, which we had not had, but he didn’t come looking for it, either.)

            Merry rubbed his eyes, gave a huge yawn, and stretched his arms toward the ceiling.  “What’s for breakfast?” he asked sleepily.

            We all just watched him for a moment. I was solemnly wondering how damaged our hearing would be when he discovered that there was to be no breakfast or second breakfast, and considering that the market was usually an all-day affair, quite possibly no elevenses or luncheon.  Mayhap there would be afternoon tea, if we were quick at the market.  Then again, Bilbo wasn’t known for his haste while shopping.  I could feel my knees weakening, and wondered how many meals one could miss before fainting from hunger.

            Frodo finally answered him.  “It is half past 10 o’clock Merry.  And we have eaten all the apples.”

            Once again, Frodo had forgotten details.  “Not all, Frodo,” I said.

            “We have eaten all the apples, not counting the wormy, rotting one.”

            Merry began looking like he would faint right there on the floor until Bilbo managed to produce a very wrinkly peach.  Merry normally would have turned up his nose at the thought of eating it, however, these were not normal circumstances, and thus Merry gratefully took the peach and sat down.

            “So,” Bilbo called from the kitchen several moments later.  “Merry, my lad, would you mind staying here with Bombur while we go to the market?”

            Merry did not answer, unless you called the snore that escaped from his lips an answer.  He had fallen asleep at the table, peach pit in hand.  I believe that late nights tormenting cousins and dwarves had proved a bit too much for him.

            Thus it was settled.  Bilbo, Frodo and I would go to the market.  Frodo and I breathed a sigh of relief as we began to walk down the path to the market. 

            I always did love the market.  The bustling people, the merchants, the other lads playing games nearby, the food, the trinkets for sale, and just all the bustle the market had to offer.  It was an altogether exhilarating experience. 

            Bilbo set out to visit various rood carts.  “Feel free to do what you want, lads,” he called over his shoulder.  “Just be careful, and don’t get lost.”

            As soon as he was gone, Frodo and I looked at each other.  Set loose at the market...what more could a lad ask for?

            Frodo began edging away from me, giving longing glances at the lads talking in the shade.  “If you don’t mind, Pip...” he said hopefully.

            I nodded, and he gave a sigh of relief and hurried to join them.  It would have been pointless to try and get him to stay, or at least include me.  Not that I was interested in talking to the other lads, (about girls, most likely—blech!) I was more interested in the ball games. I was still much too young to be a useful player.  Now, if Merry were here, he would have seen to it that I was included.  The others knew better then to argue with the future Master of Buckland.

            On the other hand, had I wanted to play, I’m certain that they wouldn’t have dared refused to let the son of the Thain play with them.  I just didn’t want them to be forced to let me play with them.

            I sighed.  Life is so unfair at nine years old.

            After several seconds contemplating my future, my growling stomach reminded me that I had missed all meals that morning, and it was almost time for luncheon.  (I didn’t think that one mere apple accounted for “breakfast”) I wandered over to the nearest food stand run by a lady.

            Begging for food is an art.  You must know whom to beg from, how to beg, and how to receive something worth eating.

            The victim, er, person, I was begging from today was a kindly older lady by the name of Mrs. Bracegirdle.  She was of the motherly sort, all her children being grown and married.  I knew that she couldn’t possibly resist trying to “fatten me up” as it was so often put.

            I waited until the customer she was assisting turned away before I made my move.  It was important to make sure that she was unoccupied.

            “Hullo, Mrs. Bracegirdle,” I said innocently.  I also widened my eyes for added effect.

            She greeted me with a large smile.  “Well, hullo, Mr. Peregrin!  And how are you this fine day?” she asked brightly.

            She was the perfect target.  I sighed.  Sometimes I even amazed myself.

            “Good.  And you?” I asked politely, while enforcing Part 2 of my plan; the first having been the innocent eyes.  I looked hungrily at her baked goods—delicious looking pies, tarts, cakes, and pastry, mm-mm. 

            I sighed longingly then looked up as she squinted at me.  This was it, the moment of reckoning.  I gave her a genuine smile with a touch of sorrow.

            “Mr. Peregrin, are you all right?” she exclaimed.

            I liked being called “Mister.” It made me feel important.  “Well,” I said sadly.  I now had her eating out of the palm of my hand.  Literally, but reversed.  (Wait...what?) I shook all confused thoughts from my head and continued.  “I am a mite hungry, bein’ all that I had to eat since yesterday was an apple.”

            “What?!” she cried in shock.  “Mr. Peregrin Took, you come sit right here;” she patted the bench, “and I will see to it that you are well fed.”

            Ah, it was good to be brilliant.

Mrs. Bracegirdle, although not the name, is a character of my own.

Fret not, Chapters 7 and 8 will continue their exploits at the market as well as introduce some well-known characters. (Well-known if you have read Orangeblossom Took's Rosemary For Remembrance)