Three of Many

S.R. 17 Blotmath, 1388

Frodo held the freshly delivered envelopes out to his uncle.  They were each addressed to Mr. Bilbo Baggins and Master Frodo Baggins, Bag End, The Hill, Hobbiton.  The script on all three was identical.  Bilbo chuckled when he saw them.  “You’ll soon learn to recognize that handwriting, lad.  You will see it frequently.”

“But why three in one day?” Frodo asked.  He had only just learned of letter writing but, as far as he could tell, these envelopes looked as if they could hold more paper than they did.

“Because your Aunt Dora always has another thought the moment after she sets the seal,” Bilbo answered.  If it hadn’t been that Frodo’s name was also on the envelopes, he would have put them unopened in the waste basket.  The fact that Dora was addressing her letters now also to Frodo made him curious to see what she had to say.  “Go ahead and open them.  Let’s see if you can read them.”

“Dear Bilbo and Frodo,” Frodo read aloud.  “On second thought, I will give the lessons on et…?”

Bilbo didn’t even have to lean over to see what the word was.  It was easy enough to guess.  “Etiquette.”  He answered Frodo’s puzzled expression.  “That means she plans on teaching you manners, Frodo.  Which fork to hold and which way to pass the rolls - that kind of thing.  She thinks she knows these things better than I.”

Frodo shrugged and returned to his reading.  “Frodo should arrive at my hole at noon on Saturday, and plan to stay through tea.  I’ll be having my sewing club that afternoon and he can put to practice what he learns…” 

The guffaw escaped Gandalf’s lips before he had the chance to stop it. 

“Better you than me,” Bilbo added with grin.  “What do the other letters say?”

“I’m afraid to find out,” Frodo said as he opened another.  “Oh, this one must have been her first thought.”  He read: “Dear Bilbo and Frodo,  There are several people that Frodo should meet in the coming weeks.  The Mayor and Delilah Whitfoot will be home for the holidays.  You, Bilbo, should arrange that introduction.

"I am busy checking genealogies and will put together a list of parents of lasses to whom Frodo should be introduced.  It is important to identify and encourage appropriate matches when they are young so they aren’t disappointed later.” 

“Gracious!” Gandalf sputtered over his tea.  “Isn’t it too soon to be discussing that?”

“We need to consider it sooner than later, I suppose,” Bilbo conceded, hating to admit it even as he said it.  “I myself fell in love with too close a relative when I was just of age – I never got over it.  Go on, Frodo, what else does she say?”

“Frodo should also get into the young hobbit’s Yuletide chorale that performs the evening of the First of Yule.  It will be a good way for him to make friends.  They rehearse each Friday morning at eight at the Ivy Bush Inn in Bywater.  I’ve already sent a letter to Choirmaster Hornblower to expect him.”  Frodo’s shoulders drooped, not so much because he didn’t want to sing, but because of the early hour of the practices.  But as he silently read on he, himself, began to laugh.

“What?” Bilbo and Gandalf both asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Oh, nothing much,” Frodo answered. “Just that here is where she first said that I should get the lessons in etiquette.  Apparently I also need to learn to stand up straight and pay better attention to the state of my nails." 

“And the third letter?” Bilbo asked.

Frodo tore it open.  “Dear Bilbo and Frodo,  And should that wizard friend of yours still be here, perhaps he can judge the Yule parade carts.” 

“That is, actually, a fine suggestion,” Bilbo considered.  “Every year groups decorate up carts and pull them along the street the afternoon of the Second of Yule so that everyone can see them.  You’d be the perfect person to decide which should win the prizes.”

Gandalf agreed to do it.  A concert and a parade sounded quite nice to him.  “I’ll even make ready a few fireworks for Between Eve.”

*    

TBC