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"Some dinner, of course - whatever it is that smells so good," answered Thistle. "And make sure it is hot. Cold dinner's no good. With apple cider." Thistle could not help but feel she was being put off. And this girl, Ginger; why, did she not have anything of her own to say? Only a "yes m'am" and the repetition of Thistle's own words. Didn't these young folk think for themselves anymore? Ginger had got right dreamy-eyed, too, once she had finished talking. This was what happened when a hobbit interested themself in tales about elves and dragons - not a sensible thought left in them! Thistle bet that Ginger had probably been one of the first to sign up for these hogwash lessons.
"Yes m'am," said Ginger. "Why don't you have a seat and make yourself comfortable? We'll have it ready shortly."
Thistle allowed herself to be ushered to a small table, but not without a few more admonishing words to Ginger. "Make sure you don't go filling your head with this tomfoolery about dragons. You be sensible, help out your folks at home. Life'll go better for you, you mark my words..."
"Yes m'am. Your dinner will be right out, all right?"
Thistle nodded sourly. Of course she'd leave her all alone like this. No one ever cared to give her company any more. Not even the children came to visit with their families.
Thinking of children, why were there so many of them here? And noisy children. Noisy, rambunctious, singing children. Was this how children were raised these days? In fact, those nearby seemed to be encouraging it! Hmph. What was the Shire coming to these days?
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