Dear Mister Frodo,

I 'm going to say something very selfish. I almost want Merry to get more sick so that you can come home. It's not very nice, but there's simply nothing to do. I just sit here and do nothing. And I need to take care of my marigolds, and I really don't know what's worse, to have folks feeling bad for you when you meet them on the street or when they walk by your window. I supposse it's my turn to need you, now. You needed a friend when you came, but I guess, so did I, but that came second. And you were so different and nice, not to say that you haven't groun in that, but I realy think it's my turn to need you priamrily, then second, you need me. Do you still need me? When you're at your old home? I'm shure you've got lota of memories there and don't want to leave. But you have been pretty good about having to change. Better than I could've done. You know, I don't think I could leave the Shire, ever. Unles...unless I was with you. You could help me enjoy myself. And I would come back of course, after a while. Any how, tell Merry to be good, stay in bed, and to...to get better soon.  I had to say that, Mister Frodo! I didn't want to, but it was the right thing to do. They'd sceme up a storm, Lotho and Ted would.

I'll be very glad for your homecomeing,

Good bye,

Your Samwise