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Robin had been greatly enjoying the party. Such a celebration hadn't been held in the Shire for years. Not since the Hobbits had celebrated the appearance of the beautiful Mallorn that replaced the Party Tree after its destruction by long-dead 'Sharkey's' ruffians. At least, Robin hadn't been to as lovely a Party since then, though with his fondness for good times (and gift for finding where the best time was to be had), if he hadn't managed to find one to compare, there most likely hadn't been one.
Robin danced and danced, and refilled his mug of ale, and danced some more. And then, in good high spirits, he jumped onto the platform with the musicians.
"Watch where you're going there, lad!" cried a fiddler.
"Never you mind that," replied Robin. "You're playing some fine music, and no mistake, but it wants some singing."
And with that, he launched into song.
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