[Bêthberry]

Just as Esmerelda was taking the buckleberry pies from her stone oven, a knock on her door was heard.

Good gracious me, who could that be at this hour? If I didn't know better, I would think it was Podo, drawn here by the aroma of my pies. But he has been long gone on his trading travels, said Esmerelda to herself, somewhat sadly.

Dusting flour from her hands, Esmerelda opened the door cautiously. No one was about. As she stepped out farther, her eye caught sight of a white bit of paper, left on the third stone in front of her door.

Curiouser and curiouser she said as she stooped to retrieve what turned out to be an envelope, heavy for its size. But opening it she was made speechless, not a small feat for a hobbit as garrulous as Esmerelda Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern.

Three deep green stones, each cut differently, winked at her from the creamy white envelope. Esmerelda had seen similar stones at the Mathom House in Michel Delving. She, Podo, and her cousin Orangeblossom had taken a trip there once and she had learnt what her name meant. Esmerelda touched each stone gingerly, almost unbelievingly, as if the touch would prove them real. They were. Suddenly, she folded them into the paper tightly and hid them in a pocket under her apron. Speaking to the twilight air, she asked,

Who would bring a busybody such as me such mathoms? It could only be my neighbour, returned from his trading journey. Podo, Podo Cotton of Overhill, is it you? You always were such a good farmer. Have you really returned so wealthy this time? Are you the one hiding in my elder bush and making its branches nod out of rhythm with the breeze? Only you could have arrived just as my evening baking was finished.