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Letters Home  by Lindelea

Book II

Dear Dad,

Do you remember when Mr. Bilbo went away everyone shook their heads and said he'd come to a bad end? Well he's landed on his feet, he has, and is living in the lap of luxury.

And there really are such folk as Elves.

There are all sort of folk here, Big Men and Dwarves and the aforementioned.

Mr. Frodo was ill when we arrived, but he's ever so much better now. I am supposed to be sleeping, after sitting up with him for ever so long a time. More later.


Still no way to send post. This'll be a fine fat packet when I finally send it off! They had a grand moot today with all the visitors and it seems that Mr. Frodo will be travelling some way farther. O'course I cannot let him go by himself. He needs someone to look after him, and that is for certain.

Yours afctnatly,



Dear Dad,

I do hope that your Yule was fine. It is cold and dampish where we are.

I don't think much of mountains. Freezing, unpleasant places they are, with snow higher than a hobbit. If you are still planning to go on holiday I think you ought to stick with the seaside.

The wind howls like wolves here, and Mr. Gandalf is waving his staff about and kindling fire. Looks as if I had better get to cooking. More later, I do surely hope.


I don't think much of the pools of water they have round here. Nasty unpleasant snakes lurk there. I lost my pony, that had come with us all the way from Bree.

Do you know? Hobbits isn't the only folk what lives under the ground. Dwarves do as well, only their smials are a deal larger than Shire-folks'.

Master Peregrin Took wants a good deal of looking after, I'm afraid. Do you know how you taught me never to chuck things down a well? Seems as if he don't have enough sense to stuff a turnip.

Much later,

So much has happened, Dad, I don't know how to tell even a part of it. Mr. Gandalf, he--

He fell down, and we had to leave him behind in the Dwarves' smial. And then we came to this glorious wood. I cannot begin to tell you about it, but I can say this much. Elves is just as good gardeners as hobbits. Maybe better.

They don't know their taters, though.

There's a funny sort of mirror here, and I looked in it, and I thought a moment I saw you. I know what you'd say. "Don't muck about with things beyond you, Samwise!"

But I promised myself I'd stick this through, and Mr. Frodo wants looking after, no doubt about it.

Yours afctnatly,



Dear Dad,

The one thing I was missing before was rope, and now I have some in my pack, nestled around my pans, I am set for what ever lies ahead. It's elvish rope, to be sure, but I'm sure it's nearly as good as Uncle's.

And the Lady of the Wood (you'd like her, Dad, tall and beautiful she is, and she loves growing things) gave me a box to bring back to the Shire, with earth from her orchard, and a great value she sets by it, as any true gardener would.

But I fear to tell you that we travel now in boats. Yes I know you've told me often enough that boats is tricksy things, and Mr. Frodo's parents got drownded in a boat. I'll do my best not to get drownded.

I must close now, as Mr. Frodo has gone off by himself, and he does want quite a bit of looking after.

Yours afctntly,


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