Chapter Five - Trouble on the Horizon

The following day, during quiet studies, Miss Hemlock made her rounds to each of her students, giving additional instruction as needed. Merry, of course, appeared to be doing fine, as the study was about Buckland, however, to Miss Hemlock, Merry seemed to be somewhat behind in his reading. She felt he should have been much farther along into the book. “How are you doing, Mr. Merry?” she asked him. “Are you ready for today’s exam?”

“Fi--” said Merry as his mouth opened up in a yawn. “Fine, Miss Hemlock.” He gave a half-hearted smile, “I’m ready.”

“Mr. Merry, are you getting enough sleep?”

“I am.”

Miss Hemlock was not wholly satisfied with Merry’s answer, but she knew she would not get much more out of him at the moment. She made a mental note to ask him again after she released the rest of her students from morning studies.

She went on to Degger, smiling to give him encouragement. “I’ve noticed a slight improvement in your work, Degger. Keep up the good work!” Miss Hemlock had to suppress her impulse to laugh; Degger’s beaming smile was absolutely precious.

When she got to Pippin, Miss Hemlock realised that he was not participating in quiet study as planned.

“Mr. Peregrin,” she said in a low voice, “what, pray tell, are you doing?” In spite of her efforts to speak quietly, the concentration of the rest of her students was broken.

“I’m writing a poem,” Pippin replied amiably, continuing to write. “It’s for Merry,” Pippin named his co-conspirator for emphasis, “he asked me to write it.”

Miss Hemlock shot a look at her eldest student. “Now? Right before your exam when your cousin ought to be studying for it? Mr. Meriadoc, you know that this is not appropriate,” Miss Hemlock replied firmly. She spoke again to Pippin, “You were assigned final study time before your test; you know better.”

“Oh, I finished studying a while ago,” said Pippin not looking up. He dipped his quill-pen into his ink jar, carefully wiping the excess ink onto the blotter before writing the last word of his poem.

Miss Hemlock contemplated sending the lad straight to his father’s office, though she would like to avoid it if possible. However, that was the instruction that Paladin had given the tutor for the next time Pippin disrupted the class. After the meeting they had the day before she was quite certain that the future Thain meant business this time with his son. Perhaps a little humiliation might be the key, she thought…but little did she know Peregrin Took.

“Mr. Peregrin,” she straightened up, “You shall stand up and read to us your poetry.”

“You lasses might not want to hear this sort of poetry,” advised Pippin.

Miss Hemlock’s eyes went wide with Pippin’s cheek.

Merry understood that Pippin was trying to help out by getting them both in trouble at the same time--and to tack on more time to help Degger…yet Merry also knew the sort of poetry his young cousin was becoming quite proficient at. Today, unfortunately, Miss Hemlock appeared determined to put an end to Pippin’s boredom--or so Merry imagined. So he jumped in the act, feigning attempt to put off her interest in Pippin’s composition, “Miss Hemlock--”

“Mr. Merry,” Miss Hemlock interrupted, “allow your study-mate to amuse us with his rendition of poetry.” She looked at Pippin, “I am most certain that it has to do with the Oldbucks or Buckland--doesn’t it, Mr. Peregrin? Stand up.”

Hardly. The thirteen-year-old lad stood up from his chair, smiling at all the attention he was getting. “Then, at your request, I’d be happy to, Miss Hemlock,” he said smugly. “I actually did write this for Merry--it’s about that night at the Green Dragon when Frodo took us there for supper.” For emphasis, he grinned at Merry, who rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling.

“I once met a lass who was blessed,

In the area, of well, you can guess,

I tried not to stare--

And asked if she’d share…”

Pippin sighed for dramatics before speaking the next line, “She said ‘no’ and then glared, the b--ow!”

The poor lad didn’t get to finish his wee poem. Miss Hemlock had him by his pointed ear, hauling him out of the room.

* * *

As Miss Hemlock escorted Pippin toward his father’s office, she let her thoughts run rampant in her head. She disliked turning the lad over to his father, but Pippin’s behaviour did not leave her much choice. His antics could not be tolerated during studies any longer, much less speaking poetry of the degenerate sort.

In her head, Miss Hemlock went over the progress meeting between her and Mr. Paladin:

“I agree that Pippin is showing signs of tedium, Miss Hemlock,” said Paladin, “however, his misbehaviour cannot be ignored. The next time he disrupts his fellow students, I want him brought to my office; I will deal with my son.”

“I fear…,” Miss Hemlock began, “…I fear that young Peregrin’s behaviour is stemming from a lack of challenge.”

“How so?” Paladin asked with surprise. “Are you not offering the children various levels of study?”

“Different levels of study really isn’t necessary, as three of the four students were essentially at the same point of learning; each of those three have finished elementary lessons with their respective families. Except for one.”

Paladin leaned forward onto his desk with a sigh. “Degger.”

Miss Hemlock nodded in answer. “I’ve tried to stall the lessons for a while to allow the lad to catch up, thinking all he needed was a bit of time…and I am afraid that Peregrin is suffering for it.”

“Degger isn’t going to be able to catch up,” Paladin replied sadly. “He has a servant’s education--which is not very much. I should have known better.”

“The Thain expects my report on Highday as usual,” Miss Hemlock informed Paladin. “He’s made comment before on Peregrin’s progress. He’s pleased so far, however, he isn’t particularly thrilled over an employed servant participating in the lessons. He believes that Degger’s place is with performing his duties.”

“That is where my cousin and I differ in opinion,” Paladin said firmly. He sighed, placing his hands over his face, rubbing out the tension. “I shall handle my cousin, Miss Hemlock, and I will deal with my lad. Now…what to do about Degger?”

“That is what I want to propose to you, Mr. Paladin,” Miss Hemlock offered. “Peregrin misbehaves because he is not being challenged...because I thought withholding the study of more complex lessons would help Degger catch up. Now I understand that, as you just said, the chance of him catching up to the other students--without aid--is unlikely…so,” she took in a deep breath before taking the plunge. “I want to take a couple of hours each day with the lad after his kitchen duties are finished to assist him. Degger requires individual instruction, Mr. Paladin, and I am his tutor.”

Paladin started to object, “But--”

“I shall waive any additional fee,” Miss Hemlock quickly put in for extra measure. “The lad tries so hard, Mr. Paladin…please.”

After a long, thoughtful moment, Paladin nodded in agreement. “I had a mind to take him aside myself,” he said, “but I…” he trailed off, eyeing a stack of books upon his desk. His own studies to become the future Thain took up most of his time now.”

She smiled, thinking her meeting a success, and then stood to take her leave.

After leaving Pippin with his father, Miss Hemlock walked the tunnels alone back to the study, worrying over Pippin. Inwardly, she hoped his father wouldn’t be too hard on him, breaking his spirit in the process of discipline. Now Mr. Paladin also wanted a word with his nephew over Pippin’s poetry, though he would wait until the exam was over.

Worn out from the stress of the morning, Miss Hemlock opened the door to the study, hoping to just make it to noon when studies were over. She looked at the clock on the wall: not quite eleven o’clock. Not close enough, she thought. She was also anxious to get started with helping Degger.

“Everyone, take up your scraperboards,” she instructed the remaining students. “As part of this morning's exam, we’re going to work out a calculation similar to the one that I assigned to you last ni…” Miss Hemlock picked up her own scraperboard, looking at it strangely.

When she laid it down on her table this morning, it displayed an extremely detailed process of arriving at the correct sum of a particularly challenging formula--a process that took her over two hours to prepare. In place of her formula was a large circle with two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth. Miss Hemlock angrily tossed the board onto her table. “Who did this?” she demanded.

Merry almost hesitated to answer, seeing how upset the tutor was, but he desperately wanted another week of punishment to the study group--for Degger’s sake. He stifled a yawn before standing up, “I did it, Miss Hemlock.”

Miss Hemlock gaped in shock at one of her finest students. A few seconds passed before she could speak. “Why? What have I…?” She briefly hesitated in her words lest she completely lose her composure. Miss Hemlock, calm as she could be, sat down at her table then began writing out a note on a blank leaf of paper. “Take this to your uncle,” she folded the note and then handed it to the tween without looking up. “Directly.”

When Merry saw how upset his tutor was, he regretted his actions--almost apologising then and there, but he knew it was too late for words. Silently he took the paper, walking out of the study heading straight for his uncle Paladin’s office. Deep inside, Merry didn’t think his scheme was going as planned. Perhaps he should have stayed with his original plan the day before and spoke with Miss Hemlock about Degger, though he felt too tired then and even more exhausted now. Merry slowly blinked his weary eyes as he walked, feeling ashamed of his deed.

A/N: the last line of Pippin's poem will appear in the story soon.  Its not exactly what it seems... :-)