Gil pulled his cap from his belt and settled it back on his head as he walked through the classroom and back into the common room proper. Woody and Hanson had been seen to, and he’d made the offer of him and his mates doing some cabinetry work or fix-up jobs as needed for Miz Bella in exchange for her taking on his nephews. Resources were stretched a little thin at his sister’s house, though he bet that Gammer Boffin would send along a jar or two of her plum conserve or gooseberry jam as she could spare it.
He stopped briefly to let the boys know when he’d come back to fetch them. To their amusement, he admonished them once again to be good. They fidgeted under his instruction, eager to get back to their game of marbles. A look of surprise passed over his features as he looked about at their fellow gamers. There was an Elf child with them! He bent down down and whispered to them, ‘Who is your Elven friend?’ The boys looked up confused. He nodded toward Neviel.
‘He’s our new friend, Neviel’ piped up Hanson. ‘We’re teaching him marbles.’
Gil said goodbye once again and hurried out. His eye caught cloaks and pails and whatever else the children had brough, piled all higgledy-piggledy in a corner. ‘Tell Miz Bella the lads and I will come round when classes are over and put up some pegs for cloaks and bags.’ He surveyed the room once more. ‘And we’ll throw up some cubbyhole shelves to put your pails and marble bags in, and whatever else you have in those pockets of yours that you don’t need while you’re learning.’ He grinned down at them, as they looked innocently up at him, their hands in their pockets, fingering the slings and rocks or pea shooters and little pebbles that were thrust in there.
Woody and Hanson gave a relieved sigh as he left. It was hard to put one over on Uncle Gil . They returned to their game. It was Woody's turn to shoot. Hanson stood near Neviel and reaching up his little hand, tugged at the boy's sleeve. 'Say, are you really an Elf?' he asked, trying to accomodate such a novel idea.
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If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world – J.R.R. Tolkien
Last edited by Arry; 04-15-2005 at 12:45 AM.
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