|
Fordogrim hid the sigh of relief that swelled his bosom at such a happy conclusion to what had appeared to be a disaster in the making, but at the same time he little liked the idea of being upstaged by these others. If there was to be a song made of this day he wanted to ensure that it would be a song about his own generosity and the glories of his beer. He snuck a quick peak at the casks remaining in the wagon and after a swift calculation decided that he could pull it off...just.
The crowd was beginning to move off, distracted by the apparent close of the display so he had to leap upon the wood pile and raise his hands above his head to gain their attention. "Why," he cried, "I have heard many fine things about the folk of this here Inn, but I must say that this display of gallantry and civility is well beyond what I could have expected. Handsome, I say it is, most handsome. And it seems only right to me that I reward all those whose handsomeness has done us credit. Miz Rowan, you and your friends here shall have a cask of my best stout -- dark it is, like the coming of night in summer; heavy with the promise of a relaxed evening with friends. You, my friend Dwarf, shall have to your own a cask of hearty ale -- drink it with but a cracker or two and it shall be like a full meal. And to the hobbit Robin (someone fetch him out and let him know) shall go a cask of my very best Gold: a lager so light and so crisp that it passes over the tongue like liquid gold and leaves the mouth as clean as water!" A general cheer went round the yard at his generosity. But Fordogrim was determined to make it one better yet. "And if I might second the opinion of Miz Rowan, might I suggest to all our winners that they set aside their casks for tonight so they can share them round with everyone -- for I propose that we declare tonight to be a Party Night, at which we celebrate the spirit of fair-play and friendliness that is so much part of this here Shire!"
|