Dear Sam,

I pity those who do not have enough imagination to believe a thing however outrageous it may sound (There's a spelling word for you, Sam, outrageous). You and Rosie make such a lovely pair, I'm sorry if I embarrass you by saying that, but it is true, and I had to say it. I can't wait to see your marigolds when I come home, but at the moment I cannot see much other than the wall of my room. You see, Merry came down with a fever the day before we were supposed to go on our walking trip, and so we couldn't go. And then the next day I got it, only much worse, so now I am stuck in bed, and the only thing Aunt Esme will let me do is read and write this letter to you. I've sent a letter on to Uncle Bilbo telling him to give you that bottle of blue ink you were admiring last time you were over at Bag End. I hope you got it, and I know you will use it well. I shall go now, Aunt Esme is coming to try to make me take some horrid medicine she has concocted. You know how much I hate taking medicine. Write me back soon, Sam.

Your friend,

Frodo