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‘Some of us have to work,’ she said, giving him an impish grin. ‘The rain has idled the likes of you, but for us it means more thirsty and hungry mouths to feed as the time is passed.’
Ginger watched as Ferdy’s face fell. Daring a look at the kitchen door for any signs of Cook, she sat down for a moment next to him. His aspect brightened as she gave a little squeeze to his hand. ‘I’ll fly about with the soup . . . and once it’s all brought out, I’ll come have lunch with you and the others.’ She gave him a little wink. ‘Save a place for me, won’t you?’
Before he could answer, Buttercup called her away, saying the soup bowls were filled and would she lend a hand.
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. . . for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth . . . are quick of hearing and sharpeyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unneccesarily, they are nonetheless nimble and deft in their movements . . . FOTR - Prologue
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