(A/N: Bilbo is almost 21, the equivalent of a 13 to 14 year old human adolescent.)

Chapter 7: Task Accomplished

5 Halimath, S.R. 1311

The weather this day was blustery, but at least it was dry, thought Bilbo. The summer had been unusually cool and wet, and the rains had all seemed to come at just the wrong times to be of help to the gardens and crops. But today was fine enough.  He stood nervously by the door of Greenbriars, newly painted a bright yellow.  He fingered the key to the hole; his father would be here soon to look over his work, and in just a few hours his cousins would be arriving to take up residence.  Would they like it?  Would they understand how hard he had worked? What if they did not like it?  He nervously rubbed the toe of his left foot against the heel of his right, and put a finger beneath his collar.

He heard voices, and looked up to see both his parents coming. He grinned; he had not expected his mother to come as well. For some reason the knowledge that both of them were there made him feel more confident.

His parents came through the gate in the low stone wall and up the newly-swept flagged path to the smial.  The herbaceous border along the walk had been nicely spruced up by Bag End's very own gardener, Tam Goodchild.  

The portico above the door had been fixed and painted a pale green. Corbels that had been carved by Mag held up and supported a swath of turf that grew down from the Hill to shade the front step. On either side of the door were large round windows, now sparkling clean.

Bilbo greeted his parents, and then turned to unlock the door with the key.  He opened the door wide-- there was not a hint of a squeak in the hinges.  He drew a deep breath.

"Go in and look around," he said, "I'll wait out here." For he had suddenly decided he could not bear to hear what they said, in case they did not like it.  Or, what was worse, if they pretended to like it when they did not, for fear of hurting his feelings. He watched them pass in, and sat down on the front doorstep. It seemed he was sitting there for ages and ages. He heard laughter at one point, and his face burned. Were they laughing at something they liked, or had he done something completely ridiculous?

Finally, he felt the presence of his father behind him. "Bilbo, come in," Bungo said.

Bilbo stood wiping sweaty palms on his breeches,  and went in, and was relieved to see proud smiles on both their faces.

"Son, you did a fine job. I think that your cousins will be very comfortable here," said his father.

His mother hugged him. "Oh, my dear! I am so proud of you!"

Now he did blush, this time with pleasure. "I couldn't have done it without Mag and the Twofoots and your help, too, Mama and Papa!" For true to his father's word, they had given him advice whenever he asked, and once or twice when there had been serious matters that would have been difficult for a lad of his age-- such as the discovery in the larder that one of the large roots from the rooftree had broken through, or when a new well had to be dug, as the old one had dried up-- his father had come down to consult with the workers. But he had not taken over, and once those problems had been dealt with, he had left things in Bilbo's hands once more.

"What was so funny?" he asked, "I heard you laughing!"

Both his parents burst into laughter again. "We were looking at the portrait over the fireplace!" said his mother. "The one of your Grandfather Mungo and his sisters and brothers! They all looked so solemn and stiff; and your father is the spitting image of your grandfather. And Aunt Pansy!" Belladonna chuckled.

"Aunt Pansy looked as though she had something stuck up her nose even then, and her a mere tween of twenty-two!" said Bungo.

Bilbo had to  snicker himself. "I found it in one of the mathom rooms, and it seemed right to put it up. Do you think I should put something else there?"

"No, it's just fine, son! And your cousin will be pleased, since his own father is in it. And Uncle Largo was a cunning little chap at that age, if the picture is anything to go by."

Bilbo breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I'm so glad that you all like it; I was afraid that you wouldn't."

"You have done a wonderful job, son. And I think that you've learned a few things along the way."

"I think I have, too, Papa."

"Well, shall we walk back up to Bag End for elevenses?" asked his mother.  "Then the two of you can help me prepare luncheon for Cousin Fosco and his family!"

It was very nearly time for luncheon when there came a smart rapping at Bag End's front door. Bilbo rushed to open it.  "Welcome, Cousin Fosco, Cousin Ruby!" Little Dora was holding her mother's hand and looking quite serious; Cousin Ruby was round with child, and her hair was windblown. Cousin Fosco was holding little Drogo in his arms. The faunt had been sheltering his face against the wind on his father's shoulder, but at the sound of Bilbo's voice he twisted around and stared.

"Drogo, do you remember Cousin Bilbo?"

Drogo shook his head shyly.  

"Hullo, Drogo," Bilbo said, waggling his fingers at his little cousin. He smiled at him, and then Drogo smiled back.

"Bi'bo? he asked.

"That's right! You are a clever lad!"

Drogo grinned and held out his arms to be taken. Bilbo took the faunt and stood back. "Come in out of the wind!  Mama is in the kitchen and Papa is in the dining room laying the table!  Luncheon is almost ready!"

A fine repast had been prepared: onion soup, a salad of young greens, roasted potatoes, leg of lamb with mint jelly and for afters, a strawberry tart with cream, and fruit, bread and cheese for the filling up of corners..

The talk at the table was at first mostly of the food.  

"I am afraid that I had to use some strawberry preserves from last season to fill out the tart. I am afraid we did not get many strawberries this year," said Belladonna apologetically.

"It's very good, Aunt Belladonna," said Dora politely.

"Thank you,dear! Would you like some more?"

At the child's nod, Bella helped her to another piece.

"I would never have been able to tell, if you had not mentioned it, Belladonna," said Ruby. "I must get the receipt* from you sometime."

"You are most welcome to it, Ruby.  I will write it out for you this evening."

Fosco sighed. "Strawberries are not the only thing this year to have a poor yield. It has been unseasonably cool and wet, except when it has been blisteringly hot. I've never known weather so contrary!  The yield of pipeweed this year was truly dismal, and the quality has suffered greatly."

"So Longo said in his last letter. He seemed to feel that the weather was meant as a personal affront to him. I have to say, I am worried about the harvest this year.  The barley and the wheat got rain at just the wrong time!" replied Bungo. "My tenants are very worried.  Root vegetables have done well, but if the weather stays too wet they are likely to rot in the ground before they can be gathered."

"I am worried about the winter. It may be a five meal winter, or even a four meal one..."

"Fosco!" said Ruby reprovingly. "The children," she hissed.

"Let's talk of more cheerful things, cousins!  I think perhaps the time has come for you all to see your new hole!" Bungo intervened.  Ruby was right-- talk of possible grim times ahead was not for young ears.

This suggestion met with approval all around. "Why don't we just put the food away! The washing up can be done when we return," said Belladonna.

There was, in truth, very little in the way of leftover food to put away, and the job was soon done. Belladonna joined Ruby and Fosco in the waggon the family had arrived in, while Bungo and Bilbo walked down the Hill with the children.  Bungo had little Dora's hand, while Bilbo carried Dudo.  The >faunt seemed to have taken quite a liking for Bilbo and was pleased to be carried by him.

When they arrived, Bilbo was given the privilege of unlocking the yellow door and flinging it wide open. Cousin Fosco and his family stepped inside.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Ruby. "This is lovely!"

A green wool rug worked with a border of roses occupied the center of the floor. To one side of the door was a convenient table, and to the other side, a small bench and a coat rack with an umbrella stand at the bottom. To the right an arched opening led to a corridor along which were located the various bedrooms and mathom rooms.  To the left was the front room, all the furniture uncovered, dusted and polished to a nicety. They passed through the front room to the dining room and the kitchen, which was gleaming; it had been painted and the floor had been scrubbed and polished. A large brick fireplace for cooking, with an oven built into one side stood against the far wall.

A large oak table stood in the center of the room, perfect for working on. There was a bench on each side of the long table.  

After the family had exclaimed over the kitchen, Bilbo led them back to their rooms. On his mother's advice, he had arranged the children's room with one large bed, so the siblings could sleep close by one another.  This seemed strange to him; he had only a small bed for himself. But he knew that when he visited the Great Smials, he slept in a single large bed with his cousins, so perhaps that was not so odd after all.

Dora was thrilled with the room-- it had a large window, with gauzy curtains that billowed in on the breeze, and beneath it was a bench covered with pillows. Along one wall were fastened several shelves, and there were many toys Bilbo had found in the mathom rooms arranged on them-- dolls that had belonged to his aunts, blocks, a toy farm, a leather ball, a top and some of his Uncle Bingo's games. Bilbo set Drogo down and he toddled over to the shelf and picked up one of the little carven cows from the toy farm.  The child turned with a wide grin and held it up. "Cow!" he exclaimed proudly. He walked over to Bilbo and handed it to him; Bilbo went over and got down the other farm figures and put them in the floor and knelt down to play with his little cousin.  He did not even notice when Dora happily took one of the dolls from another shelf.

The adults left the children to their play and returned to the parlour.  "I am impressed," said Fosco. "This hole is in fine repair."

"And it is nicely arranged! Of course there is still room for us to put our things that we brought, but there is no urgency," said Ruby. "We can make our home here right away, and take our time with anything else."  

"Bilbo worked very hard at this," said Bungo.

"Bilbo?" Fosco blinked. "He did this?"

"Not alone, of course," said the proud father, "but he had most of the responsibility for seeing it done, and he stuck to the work even when it was frustrating or difficult."

Ruby smiled. "We shall have to give him an extra-nice birthday present this year."

"He's fond of books," said his mother.
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At supper that evening Bilbo could not stop talking.  "They really liked it!  Did you hear what Cousin Fosco said about the portrait?  He says he can't wait for his father to visit so that he can see it!  And Cousin Ruby said she loved the rug-- I'm so glad you let me have that rug from our mathom rooms for their hole, mother!  It fits in perfectly!
And Drogo and Dora really liked their room, too.  Isn't little Drogo the cunningest thing?  He seems to like me!"

His parents did not seem to mind at all that they could not get a word in edgewise.