Chapter 36. Sweeping Troubles Out

Freddy awakened on the Last Day of the year to see Frodo standing by the bed.

’Eh? What?’ he murmured, confused. ‘Is it time to eat again already?’

’No,’ Frodo said, smiling, ‘although Mrs Cotton got up extra early to make me a bite. She seems to think she cannot let me out the door unless I’m stuffed to the eyebrows, or word’ll get about that she’s a poor hostess.’

’You’re off to the Smials, then,’ Freddy said, comprehension dawning. ‘Wish them all there a glad Yule from me.’

’I will,’ Frodo said. ‘Go back to sleep now.’

’I will,’ Freddy echoed, turning over. Frodo turned the lamp down again and stepped softly from the room.

On this day, Mrs Cotton and Rose started early in the kitchen, turning out festive food of all sorts. Estella wanted to help, but felt she ought to stay with Freddy, with Frodo gone. Marigold Gamgee arrived with her gaffer shortly before elevenses and joined the fray, while her old father held forth in the parlour and Farmer Cotton and his sons listened respectfully.

After the noontide meal, Mrs Cotton good-naturedly shooed the good Farmer and his sons and the Gaffer out of the house. ‘Go take yourselves off and don’t come back until teatime!’ she said. ‘There’s work to be done, sweeping out the dust and troubles of the Old Year and all!’

’Then I had better take myself off as well,’ Freddy’s voice was heard from the hallway, ‘I’ve been gathering dust now for a good while.’

’Mr Freddy! What are you doing out of bed!’ Mrs Cotton scolded.

He smiled at her. ‘Now don’t throw the peaches into the jars half-skinned, Mrs Cotton,’ he said serenely. ‘I’ve been out of bed every day for a stroll to the bath and back.’

’And a good thing, too!’ Estella said stoutly at his side. ‘Just imagine if he hadn’t!’ she added wrinkling her nose, irrepressible as always.

’If’n you want to come with us to the Ivy Bush, lad,’ the Gaffer said, ‘it’d be my pleasure to buy you a pint.’

’How can I decline such a gracious offer?’ Freddy said. Farmer Cotton exchanged a look with his wife; she nodded and jumped into action.

’You’ll need to bundle up well,’ she said briskly, ‘it’s a bit chilly today,’ and suiting word to action, she wound a muffler about his neck, threw a cloak over him and fastened it tight, making sure the hood wouldn’t blow off even if it blew a gale outside (which didn’t seem likely, the weather being calm and clear if a bit cold). Freddy stood this treatment patiently, leaning the whole time on Estella’s arm with no comment but a smile.

When Farmer Cotton judged that his wife had finished her fussing, he nodded to his two oldest sons, and they stepped forward to take Freddy from either side. The younger sons were already outside, hitching up the ponies to the waggon.

’We’ll just carry you down the steps,’ Young Tom said, ‘easy as pie.’

’I wouldn’t know about that,’ Freddy said from behind the muffler. ‘I never made a pie.’

’Be back in time for tea!’ Mrs Cotton said in farewell.

Farmer Cotton kissed his wife. ‘We’ll take good care of the lad,’ he said. ‘If Samwise shows up here...’

’I’ll send him down to the Ivy Bush,’ Mrs Cotton said. ‘Of course, he’d probably stop by the Green Dragon and the Ivy Bush anyhow, on his way here. He’d know better than to look for you here when there’s the year’s dust to sweep away!’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You do think he’ll come?’

’I cannot see him missing Last Day and grieving his old gaffer, no matter how put out he was by Mr Merry’s foolishness towards our Rose,’ Farmer Cotton said, giving his wife a reassuring squeeze. He raised his voice. ‘Well, we’re off!’

Rose and Marigold came from the back of the house, brooms in hand. ‘Farewell!’ they chorused, and Rose added, ‘Come, Tillie, and sweep with us!’ Mrs Cotton handed Estella a broom and took one up herself, and soon the house was full of singing and sweeping. Well before teatime, as much dust as could be found on Mrs Cotton’s spotless floors had been swept into a pile and on out the door, the table was scrubbed and laid with a festive cloth, the sideboard absolutely groaned with good food, and Mrs Cotton and the lasses had changed into their most festive clothes.

There had been a small argument during these preparations. Rose wanted to press her best dress upon Miss Estella, but Estella insisted that Rose wear her best and lend her second-best to Marigold. ‘I’ll take the next!’ she said gaily.

’But... that’s the same dress you’ve been wearing all along!’ Rose protested.

’If you keep fussing I’ll dive into the rag-bag for my dress,’ Estella warned, and Marigold laughed. She’d come to know “Tillie” over the course of many cups of tea.

’She’ll do it too, so don’t you push her, Rosie,’ Marigold said gaily, and Rose desisted. Estella then insisted on doing up the others’ hair the way they did in the great halls. When she was finished, the girls looked at each other in astonishment.

’Why, Rosie Cotton, I’d hardly know it was you!’ Marigold said breathlessly.

’I’d say the same for you, Mari,’ Rose said.

’I’d say Tom Cotton and Samwise Gamgee will have to take a second look, wouldn’t you?’ Estella said wickedly, laughing at Rose and Marigold’s blushes.

’What about you?’ Marigold said suddenly. ‘You ought to let us do your hair as fine as you’ve done ours!’

A shadow of pain crossed Estella’s face, but she seized a bright kerchief, saying gaily, ‘Ah no, I am to be the maid this day and you are the fine ladies!’ Marigold started to protest, but Rose pinched her and she subsided.

’Miss Estella!’ Mrs Cotton was heard to call from the kitchen, and Estella hurried to answer.

’She doesn’t dare dress her hair in a fancy way,’ Rose hissed to Marigold. ‘Don’t you remember how ill her brother is?’

’He looked very well indeed, as they left for the Ivy Bush!’ Marigold said in surprise.

’Yes, but the least little thing might set him off. Jolly mentioned “home” to him the other morn and he didn’t eat for half the day!’ Rose said urgently.

’I’m sorry, Rosie, I thought he was better,’ Marigold said.

’He is better,’ Rose said, ‘but there’s still a long road to travel before he’s well.’

***

Odovacar and Rosamunda Bolger turned up just before teatime. ‘We made an easy two-day journey,’ Freddy’s father told Mrs Cotton after they had finished hugging Estella and exchanging greetings with the rest. ‘The Road’s in good repair again, and all the inns are open.’

’How are repairs to the manse?’ Mrs Cotton asked.

’There’s a good month or so of work,’ Odovacar said. ‘Every room has to be scrubbed down and painted, from the smoke you know.’

Rosamunda laid aside her cloak, displaying the second-best dress of the gardener’s wife. ‘How’s Freddy?’ she asked.

’O he’s down at the Ivy Bush lifting a pint with the others,’ Mrs Cotton said casually, then smiled to see their reaction. ‘They ought to be back at any time; Mr Cotton knows better than to be late for tea!’

’He’s better, then?’ Rosamunda asked hopefully.

’He’s much better,’ Mrs Cotton said.

’You still have to watch your words,’ Estella said warningly, and her parents nodded. Frodo had written them about Freddy’s continued trouble with the thought of “home”.

The waggon was heard outside, and soon hobbit feet were stomping up the steps. Mrs Cotton threw open the door to show Tom and Jolly just setting Freddy down after carrying him up the steps. ‘You’re just in time!’ she welcomed them. ‘Tea’s just on.’ She moved forward to take Freddy’s arm, steadying him across the threshold and into the kitchen, where he was set upon by his parents.

It was indeed a festive meal, with Freddy at the table eating and laughing with the rest. True to her word, Estella was the “maid” and served the table, laughing and joking all the while and saying the most outrageous things, keeping everyone in stitches.

Samwise had come in with the others, for he had indeed joined them at the Ivy Bush. His eyes kept coming back to Rose in wonder; he’d never seen her hair done up quite so fancy before. She looked right fit to stand at Merry Brandybuck’s side, she did, but he put that thought away. Frodo had told him about Merry’s joke, and he had promised no hard feelings.

Teatime lasted well past suppertime, and then it was time for pipes by the fireside whilst the ladies put voluminous aprons on to protect their best frocks while they cleared away and washed up. All had just settled by the fireside with glasses of sherry, when a knock came at the door.

’It’s a bit early for “first footing”,’ Farmer Cotton said, glancing at the clock on the mantel. He set down his sherry and opened the door, to see a quick post rider standing there.

’Post for Mr Frodo Baggins, from the Master of Buckland,’ the rider said.

’Come in, warm your toes,’ Farmer Cotton said. ‘Nibs, see to t’pony.’ Nibs got up, threw on his cloak and went out the door.

’Is Mr Baggins here?’ the rider demanded. ‘The matter’s urgent.’

’No I’m sorry to say you’ve missed him,’ Farmer Cotton said. ‘He’s gone to the Great Smials for the holiday, and won’t be back for a week.’

The rider uttered an exclamation of dismay. ‘My pony’s about done in,’ he said. ‘I rode him hard, the last half of the journey. We left early this morning, and he threw a shoe. The first inn we came to didn’t have a smith, and the smith at the second had gone off to visit relatives, so we had to walk to the third inn before we got the shoe replaced.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have just borrowed a pony, but I don’t like to do that.’

’You can borrow one of ours, for the trip to the Smials,’ Farmer Cotton said. ‘Nick!’ That son went out to saddle up their fastest plow pony, nearly as fast as one of the gentry’s fancy ponies, he liked to boast, and steady enough to pull a plow the day long in the bargain.

In the meantime, Mrs Cotton poured the messenger a warming cup of tea, and he gulped it down with thanks before taking himself off again.

’I wonder what that was all about,’ Odovacar said when all were gathered once again.

’I’m sure Estella will get it out of Frodo if no one else does,’ Freddy said, sipping his sherry. He yawned.

Rosamunda was instantly solicitous. ‘Don’t you think you’ve been up long enough, Freddy?’ she asked.

’No thank you, Mother,’ he answered. ‘I am tired, ‘tis true, but I want to see the last of this old year! I’ll go to bed as soon as the New Year arrives, I promise!’

Actually he dozed a bit while they were waiting the old year out, so it didn’t matter. As the clock began to chime the midnight hour and the Cottons raised the old song, Freddy wakened. Farmer Cotton handed him a glass of wine and he joined in the song and the following toast.

A knock came at the door, a neighbour “first footing”, bringing luck for the New Year; Nick and Nibs had gone out to do the same for other neighbours. The Cottons and their guests showered him with gifts, drank a toast with him, and finally it was time to turn down the lamps, bank the fire, and seek their beds.