[Linnahiril Tinnufinwen]

"Stories!" exclaimed Hanna excitedly. Others began to assemble into the next room. "Can I go listen to the stories, father? Please?"

"No, my dear," said Halfred. "Not until you've finished your supper." He anxiously took out his watch again. "Eight-thirty," he said, in an irritated voice. "They're really late, now."

The Hobbits had nearly finished their meals, and were comming to that stage the Hobbits of the Shire called "filling up the corners", when a familiar face came through the Inn door. He was a young Hobbit lad, around Asphodel's own age, and looking remarkably like her in appearence. He had nut-brown hair and eyes, and was of small stature, for he stood only three feet and three inches tall.

As he approached their table, Asphodel smiled as she remembered all the times they had been mistaken as brother and sister. But Tolman Brown was not her brother. He was her first cousin on her father's side.

Halfred, on his nephew's entrance, had stood up to greet him with a pleased look on his slightly wrikled face. But when he realized that Tolman was alone, his pleasure quickly turned to irritance.

"Where's Gormadoc?" he asked, though dreading the answer. "Where's Fastred and Pinto? Are they not comming too?"

"They're at my house," said Tolman, as he sat down next to Asphodel. "They came to pick me up to come and meet you, and my mother insisted on cooking for them."

Belladonna smiled, "I suppose they 'forgot' their dinner with Halfred at the Inn. Hilda Brown is, after all, the best cook in the Shire. Nice of you to come, though, Tolman. Humor your uncle."

"Confound my sister!" exclaimed Halfred. "I've paid a good deal for this feast, and no one is going to eat it."

"Why don't we take it home, father," said Asphodel. "Mother will not have to cook for two days at least."