The Autumn air was laden with the sweet smell of new mown hay and Gandalf sat contentedly puffing on his Old Toby as he watched the sun turn the sky a blazing red, promising fine weather on the morrow, warm and calm, as this departing day had been.

In the distance, the green hills of Whitwell were dotted with sheep, but in the valley the fields were golden with wheat and barley.

In the meadows before him the reapers were finishing their long day's labour, many of them now leaning on their scythes to have a well earned draught of cider or a puff on a clay pipe. The children, who had for the most part worked industriously all day, picking up the loose stalks of hay and making little piles for the stook-makers to bind into their sheaves, were now running around, still filled with boundless energy, in an impromptu game of tig called, "feet off ground". The rules were that all the little stacks of hay were "home" and any hobbit child "tigged away from home" could be made "It".

Gandalf chuckled at the delighted screams and calls of the tiny hobbits, "You're It – yes you are! I tigged you!"

"No! Because I had a toe on the hay-patch!"

"Yieee! Quick! Run, run!"

"Slowbones! No groans! Can't tig me!"

"C'mon Pip! Run! To me! To me!"

The last call the wizard recognised as young Meriadoc Brandybuck, grandson to Old Rory, Master of Buckland. And who was that he was encouraging to run to him? Ah must be young Peregrin Took! "Well, well," Gandalf muttered to himself, "the long awaited heir to the throne of the Shire!" He chortled into his beard, "so they're calling him Pip are they? Hmm, he's a wee thing and no mistake. Still I daresay he'll grow, hopefully into something worthy of the title 'Thain'."

As Gandalf watched, he saw the little one finally summon up his courage and race, from the clump of hay he had been sticking to like glue, to the nearest 'home' he could find, a good 20 feet away. His little legs pumped up and down in time with his tiny clenched fists, the 'tigger' only inches away from him as he ran. He had only another foot to go and, with a last massive effort, jumped onto the hay patch.

But as he landed, a bolt of brown and white shot out from under his feet and tore across the field in a blur of panic and fur. "Aiiiiiieee!" The little hobbit let out a shocked scream and fell to the ground overcome with fright.

Merry was by his side in a moment, "Pip? Pip, it's all right, don't be scared. It was just a bunny rabbit."

"It wewr a monstew Mewwy! A biggest scawry monstew!"

"No, Pip," Merry put his arms around the startled youngster, "it was a rabbit, and you scared it away."

"I scared it? And it wewr a bunny wabbit?" Pippin's frightened little sobs turned to sniffs as he realised there was no danger.

"Yes, you silly-billy." Merry patted him on the shoulder and brought a big white hankie out of his pocket. "Come on now – blow. Big blow!"

"Oh what's wrong with cry baby now?" Everard Took had been 'tigging' for most of the game and was now taking a breather, his fingers crossed in faynights, "he's always bawling about something!"

"He's only little," Merry protested, "don't be unkind."

Gandalf smiled at the scene. He was pleased to see young Meriadoc protecting the tiny hobbit's honour. Peregrin could only have been, what? Three years old at the most, really too young to be playing with such big boys and girls and certainly the youngest there. That he had kept up at all was a worthy achievement at his tender years.

Before he could make any further scathing comments, Everard's attention was pulled away by the arrival of the haywain. The reapers and winnowers and balers alike, all hurried over to help load the great waggon with the stooks of hay that had already dried in the warm Shire sun.

Gandalf wandered over, unusually for him, not particularly busy with anything and happy to pass the time of day with the hobbit labourers. A few of the older hobbits regarded the wizard with suspicion, but none dared be impolite – a wizard is a wizard, after all!

"Now then Master Gandalf," Jeb Fullbush touched his cap and nodded. "A fine evening for a fine day and no mistake."

"Indeed it is, my friend!" Gandalf nodded sagely and puffed contentedly on his pipe, "indeed it is, and long may it remain so."

The activity swelled to a lively pace as the hobbits handed the stooks up onto the haywain, the load growing higher and higher until a ladder had to be placed against the stack in order to pile yet more on top.

This was to be the final and biggest load of the harvest, the remaining drying out stooks would be collected in smaller dogcarts and, after this trip, the great haywain, would be carefully oiled and polished and stored away until next autumn.

"Aye now children!" The waggoner stood up on the back of the load and held the ladder steady, "up ye all come."

It was a traditional annual treat, that the hobbit children were allowed to ride home on top of the haywain for the last trip of the season. It was a much talked about and highly anticipated adventure for those lucky enough to be working on the field that day.

"Come on Pip," Merry held the three year old's hand and urged him forward. They were the last children left on the ground now and it was obvious that young Peregrin was reluctant.

"Come on laddie," the waggoner held out a helpful hand. "Ye can ride too! Ye'll be fine and welcome."

Pippin shook his head and pulled back against Merry's hand. "No, I not go."

"What's up Pip?" Merry leant in close, "are you scared because it's high? Or what?"

Pippin shook his head again and whispered back, "I dun't want to Mewwy – pwease dun't make me."

"But why Pip?" Merry looked perplexed, "I'll hold on tightly to you, you won't fall, promsis!"

Pippin looked fearfully up at the 50 foot stack. All the children were now cajoling him to climb up.

"It's all right Pip, it's nice once you're up here."

"Please come up, you'll be all right!"

"C'mon baby, you can do it!" Everard Took actually meant this to be encouraging, although it did not help Pippin's confidence much.

"Never mind," Merry sighed resignedly, "you go on and I'll walk home with Pip."

Gandalf had watched the little drama with interest. The disappointment in Merry's voice could not be missed, but he obviously had no intention of leaving Peregrin, even though there were plenty of adults to take care of him. He would sooner miss the precious hayride than do that.

Gandalf smiled inside his beard and, stooping to pick up an ear of wheat that had somehow been missed, walked over to the worried little hobbit. "Peregrin Took!" He said it kindly but still the little one, already fraught, jumped with fright.

"Yes Sir," Merry stepped in quickly, "Mr Gandalf Sir, this is my cousin Peregrin Took, but he's only three."

"I know Meriadoc," Gandalf climbed down onto one knee but still had to bend to reach Pippin's eye level. "You're not afraid of that big old pile of hay, are you?"

Pippin shook his head, then looked fearfully up at the towering haywain again and nodded vigorously.

"Well now," Gandalf's voice lowered so that only the trembling baby hobbit could hear him, "do you know who I am and what I do?"

Pippin nodded shyly, but spoke up bravely, "You're the magickal wizwad! Mewwy telled me! You can do magicks!"

"Indeed!" Gandalf feigned surprise at the answer but his eyes twinkled mischievously, banishing any wariness Pippin might have felt. "Well do you know what! I have here a very special piece of magic! Just for you, would you like it?"

"Yes pwease!" Pippin looked up at the wizard with a mixture of wonder and suspicion, although there was no fear in his eyes now.

"Watch!" Gandalf took the ear of wheat and laid it flat on his palm. He covered it over with his other hand and then blew gently into the hollow of his fists. The other children were craning forward to try and see and hear, but even Merry could not quite make out what was going on. Only Pippin saw, as the ear of wheat began to glow with a soft blue light as the wheat gradually turned hard and metallic.

"Now then Peregrin Took," Gandalf carefully placed the silver ear of wheat in the little one's hand and folded his fingers over it. "You hold on to that and you will never feel afraid again."

Pippin let his fingers open a gap so that he could peep in wonder at his present.

"Remember," Gandalf whispered, gently lifting the little one's chin up with one long bony finger so that he could look straight into his eyes. " it's magic – so keep it secret and keep it safe! Now pop it in your pocket and up you go on to that haywain."

Pippin nodded solemnly as he pocketed the gift. Then, clutching Merry's hand tightly, Pippin marched over to the great waggon and allowed himself to be lifted up onto the foot of the ladder and slowly, carefully, but with great determination, and Merry close behind him, he climbed to the very top and sat triumphantly down as close to the centre as he could get.

TBC