[Tevildo]

Tollers had eaten too many biscuits and drunk far too much ale for breakfast. His stomach was pleasantly rotund. It was not a good situation to be in when he had just promised to move a whole roomful of furniture before returning to the common room to help serve lunch.

As the sun came blinking out from behind a cloud and the warm rays spilled over Tollers' plump form, the young hobbit instinctively yawned and stretched, plugging his ears with his fingers to shut out the surrounding noise, and then snuggled down into the grass. In the recesses of his mind, he could hear a sharp insistent voice calling his name. It sounded very much like the voice of his father as he sternly berated Tollers at dinner for hitting one of his younger sisters on the head. Never did anyone mention that the lass in question had spent the last ten minutes kicking Tollers under the table. He did not like to be reminded of that, and closed his eyes even more tightly to shut out the glare of the sun. Soon, he was asleep again, and the unpleasant voice receded into the distance