[Arry]

Music in the Inn . . .

‘Oh no, please!’ laughed Ferdy, holding up his hand at Aranel’s questions. ‘Even Hobbits have their limits with food and drink . . . and thanks to your generosity, I’ve reached mine!’ He stood up from the table, collecting the plates and cutlery to take to the kitchen when a commotion came up the aisle behind him.

‘Leave those for now, Ferdy,’ cried Gil, followed close by Tomlin, Fallon, and Ferrin. ‘We’re going to play a bit of music, there near the corner of the fireplace. Ferrin’s Da has made him a new hand drum and he’s itching to try it out.’ Gil paused for a moment, looking over at Aranel. ‘And bring your friend, if she’s so inclined,’ he said aloud, grinning at the woman. In a hushed whisper he said as an aside, ‘Looks as if she could do with a bit of cheering up, doesn’t she?’ Gil turned back to Aranel. ‘Come now Miss; join us if you will.’

While Ferdy and Aranel found seats near the impromptu stage, Gil and his companions took out their instruments. Tomlin and Fallon both played the fiddle; Gil, the concertina; and Ferrin of course took out his new pride and joy, his hand drum. Aranel looked at Ferdy, an implied question of what might he play. ‘My hands!’ he said laughing as he clapped them together in a syncopated rhythm. ‘And my feet, too, keep the main beat . . . or dance as the spirit strikes.’

Gil gave a squawk on his concertina, drawing the attention of the diners and drinkers. ‘Ladies and gentlemen and good Hobbit friends and neighbors. Don’t put down your forks or cups of ale and cider, but enjoy our little bit of music to make it all the sweeter.’ Ferrin began the beat, then Gil turned round to face the fiddlers for the opening chords, turning back when it was time for the words to meet the music.

I've been a wild rover for many a year
I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer
Now I'm returning with gold in great store
And I swear that I'll play the wild rover no more

And it no, nay, never

‘Clap your hands four times here,’ whispered Ferdy to Aranel

No, nay, never, No more
Will I play the wild rover
No, never, no more

I went into an ale house that I used to frequent
And I told the lady my money was spent
I asked her for credit and she answered me nay
Such a custom as yours I can get day


And it no, nay, never
No, nay, never, No more
Will I play the wild rover
No, never, no more

And out of my pocket and pulled sovereigns bright
The landlady's eyes opened wide with delight
She said I have whiskey and wines of the best
And the words that I said were only in jest

I'd go home to my parents confess what I've done
And ask them to pardon their prodigal son
And if they'll caress me as oft times before
Then I swear that I play the wild rover no more

The fiddlers stepped forward and played a verse and chorus once more. Then the instruments dropped out and only the voices of the four lads rang out.

And it no, nay, never
No, nay, never, No more
Will I play the wild rover
No, never, no more

Will I play the wild rover . . .
No, never, no more . . .

There were shouts for more, and the banging of mugs on the wooden table tops in approval. And several voices called out songs they wanted the little band to play.

‘Tis thirsty work,’ Gil called out with a wide grin on his face. ‘And many the songs you want to be hearing.’ He looked round the room. ‘Now, who will stand us to a wee bit of drink to keep our pipes clear and our fingers nimble?