[Child of the 7th Age]

As the sweet flute carried its song to all in that small freehold, a number of hobbits leapt to their feet and danced all about the floor. The tables had been pushed back along the wall, so that they had plenty of space to swirl and spin, stomping their feet in time to the music.

The room looked fine and cosy. The long table had been spread with a white cloth, and a bright fire burnt in the hearth, sending its cheerful warmth and light over all the hobbit guests.

For once there was something on the menu in addition to fish. Even Branda had to admit he was glad to see coney and a few fine eggs gracing their dinner plates. But there were many other choices as well neatly laid out for all to sample--turnip soup, fish and chips, dried mushrooms, and crusty brown loaves piping hot from the oven, and, above all, plenty of beer.

Still, the cake in the middle of the table was a special treat indeed, with its wobbly letters carefully traced in white icing. And whoever had managed to bring that rangey old buck down just next to the Water must have been a magician with bow and arrow. Most of the meat from the deer would be left with their host to hang in his smokehouse, and feed his family for many days to come. But, tonight, all would get to taste and enjoy.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, and Daisy was opening her presents, Branda stepped forward with a flagon of ale in his hand, and proposed a drink in honor of their birthday lass. Daffodyl bustled in, carrying a tray laden with full mugs, and went about the room passing them out.

Branda leapt up on a chair that stood near the hearth fire, and brandished the mug above his head:

"To Mistress Daisy, may she find this day with her friends to be sweet, and may she celebrate many more parties back home with her family and kin, surrounded by the riches of the earth."

"Hear, hear," cried the other hobbits, brandishing their mugs on high.

Then Bullroarer joined in with his booming voice, "And may we find success on the road, and a warm sweet bed awaiting us in Rivendell, so that we may bring home provisions for the relief of all in the Shire, and honor Emerald's memory in this way."

At this, there were little sighs all around, and Carl piped up loud and clear, "To Emerald and the Shire!"

And all banged on the tables with their pints to show their agreement with that sentiment. Then the music swept forward again, and the hobbits resumed their dancing.