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"...And at the close of day 'tis sweet
To drink sweet brew and rest our feet."
Robin's song came to an end. Scattered cheers and applause greeted his performance, and after a quick bow, the hobbit hopped off the stage. The song was one of his own invention, and he was abashed by the attention. In his usual mood, Robin would never have dared to sing in front of such a large crowd - much less with lyrics he composed. He was astonished at the combined effects of good cheer and Fordogrim's brew on his willingness to be the center of attention. Most pleasantly astonished. It seemed that his talents were appreciated, and he would never have known without the party.
But the hour grew late, and the best of parties could not change that Robin had work to do in the morning. There were weeds to pull, fields to tend, and he had planting to finish. With a sigh, he called his farewells to the lingering revelers and stepped out of the Inn yard. Whistling a little tune - the same he sang at the party - he strolled down the road and headed for home.
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