The Green Dragon Inn - Part 9

[Linnahiril Tinnufinwen]

"Where is that server maid?" said Halfred in an irritated voice. "I ordered our meal nearly an hour ago." He removed his pipe from his mouth and placed it on the table next to his empty ale mug.

"The Dragon is busy right now, father," said Asphodel. "I'm sure Miss Brownlock will be around shortly."

"Well I hope so," said Halfred, "for we've been here longer than any of these strange blokes!" He waved his hand around the room to indicate the Big Folk.

Asphodel signed. She wished now that she was back at her house, with her mother Primrose and her youngest sister Marigold. Primrose was probably making her Shire-famous sweet corn cakes right now. Asphodel closed her eyes and tried to imagine it; the warm, cheerful glow of the fire in the kitchen's iron stove, her mother in a pretty yellow dress and apron, removing the cakes on a wooden slab so she wouldn't burn her fingers. Primrose's sweet cakes were usually golden brown squares the size of a Hobbit's fist, and smelled like baking bread, except sweeter.

Primrose, however, was not the most famous cook in the Shire. Though her sweet cakes were always the best, Halfred's sister, Hilda Brown of Bagshot Row, could cook anything well. Asphodel rather envied her cousin Tolman, and her Uncle Holman, because her Aunt Hilda could take the simplest of recipes and change them into masterpieces. Asphodel half suspected she was magic.

"Well," said Asphodel's father suddenly, "it's about time. Thank you, Miss Brownlock. And could you bring me another ale?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:03 PM January 28, 2004: Message edited by: Linnahiril Tinnufinwen ]