[Fairleaf]

Daisy and Reggie come to sign up and help out; Reggie puts a question to Neviel

Wilfrid Chubb pulled up his cart to the front porch of the Inn. ‘Whoa up, there, Larkspur!’ he called to the pony, pulling back on the reins. ‘Now, Mari,’ he said to his wife as she got down and helped the children off. ‘I’ll just wait to the side of the path while you get the two signed up. You find out about when we should pick them up. Remember, we got to move some of the ewes into the lambing barns; the late bloomers.’

Mari nodded at his request saying she’d be right back. She reached in beneath her seat and pulled out two little lidded pails and handed one each to Daisy and to Reggie. ‘Now you’ve both got an apple and some honeyed corn fritters if you get hungry. I’m sure Miz Bella will have some water for you to drink if you get thirsty.’ She brushed back Daisy’s curls with her hand and wiped a smudge off Reggie’s cheek. ‘Let’s go and find Miz Bella and get you settled in.’

Directions were gotten and the three Hobbits made their way to the classroom. Daisy and Reggie went into the classroom itself, while their mother went to Miz Bella's little office.

There were a number of Hobbits already milling about in the classroom. And to Daisy, it looked as if the order for the day was to get the classroom all put together. There were still a few books to be sorted and Daisy pitched in after asking one of the older girls what they were doing. She admired the shelf of red books saying they looked kind of like a little range of hills all lined up like they were with the tallest in the center.

Reggie was not quite so interested in the tidying up that was going on. Neatness had never been one of his stronger points. But over in one corner he had found a small box filled with pieces of nice fat chalk that just fit his chubby little fingers. No one was paying any attention as he squatted down and drew a good sized circle on the wooden floor. From his pocket he took a small worn leather, drawstring pouch. Inside it were his marbles. He looked about for someone who might want to play. The girls were all talking and sorting and putting stuff on shelves. But there just at the doorway peeking in was a boy . . . one of the Big Folk, and kind of skinny. He looked about the same age as his sister. Maybe he would want to play.

‘Hey, you want to play?’ the five year old asked, going over to where the boy stood. ‘My name is Reggie.’ He looked up hopefully at the boy. ‘I’ve got enough marbles. We could share.’