Sam worked in the garden, golden hair illuminated by the sun, strong back bent as he edged the flowerbeds with a shovel, turning over and exposing the rich earthy soil and wiggling wet earthworms. With a sigh, he stood the shovel upright and leaned on it, reaching into his back pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his brow, looking about as he took a quick respite from his labor. Despite the lateness of the season, the Shire was going through a warm spell, and the sun was particularly strong. Closing his eyes and grimacing, he stretched , rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks. His eyes opened to catch a glimpse of blue out of the corner of his eye, and he turned quickly to see his master, Frodo, standing in the shadows in the kitchen doorway of Bag End, smiling and holding up a glass of cool well water for Sam, inviting him over, as he sipped from his own glass.
Sam nodded gratefully, leaning his shovel against the nearby garden wall, and heading towards the door. As he approached, a face popped up over Frodo's shoulder - and then another. Sam froze briefly, his footstep faltering, then caught himself and continued on, his smile somewhat more forced than before. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Pippin Took - just what he needed. Merry and Pippin were cousins and friends of Frodo - good-hearted lads from two of the Shire's best families - but two greater rascals he'd never met. Worse, the more Sam frowned upon their actions, the more it pleased them to tease him. And so Sam generally kept out of their way whenever they made one of their frequent visits to Bag End.
Sam simply nodded a polite hello at the two new appearances, and then smiled at Frodo and thanked him as he took the glass of water from his hand.
"And what might be bringin' you two gentlemen to Bag End today, if I might ask, Mr. Brandybuck, Mr. Took?", Sam inquired quietly.
Pippin grinned widely. "Oh, just up to bring a bit o' fun into cousin Frodo's life, you know! We wouldn't want him to die of boredom here in Hobbiton, now, would we, Merry lad?"
Merry grinned back at Pippin, and then took on a show of seriousness and looked at Sam appraisingly. "Now, Pippin, perhaps Hobbiton's not so quiet a place after all; mayhap Frodo's Sam here knows where a couple of lads can have some fun in this neck of the Shire?"
"Can't imagine much 'ere that would be interestin' to the likes of you, I'm afraid; none of them fancy parties or nothing like yer used to," replied Sam, reddening and keeping his eyes on his glass as he drank.
Frodo cut in before either of his cousins could continue. "Enough, lads! I'm sorry if we're just not as exciting to you as your dear Buckland is to you, Merry, or Tuckburough is to Pippin - but I'm happy with Hobbiton just the way it is," Frodo said, with a look to his cousins and an appeasing smile to Sam. "I don't think you need to worry that it would be fatal to me," he finished, raising a challenging eyebrow to Merry, and thanking Sam as he took back the empty glass.
"Thankee for the drink, Mr. Frodo; I'll just be getting back to my edgin'", Sam said, nodding to the three as he backed away and then turned and walked back to his shovel. He didn't need to look back to know that Merry and Pippin were laughing as they and Frodo disappeared into the house, the door closing behind them. A couple of troublemakers, they were, Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin; sure they meant well, but everywhere they went they were always upsetting the applecart, and mixing things up. He hoped for everybody's sake that they would just leave things alone for once, this visit.
Merry and Pip flopped down into chairs across from the cool stones of the fireplace, grins stretching their faces, as Frodo more gracefully took a seat across from them, sipping his drink and eyeing his two cousins warily.
"None of them fancy parties or nothin' like yer used to!", said Pip, lowering his voice an octave in imitation of Sam's. Merry fell back laughing, then replied, when he'd caught his breath, "Can't imagine much 'ere that would be interestin' to the likes of you!", at which point he and Pip fell into each others arms, gasping and spilling their drinks.
Frodo straightened up and shook his head exasperatedly. "Merry, Pip - I'll thank you not to make fun of Sam and the way he speaks. There's nothing wrong with it."
"Nothing wrong with it? Oh, cousin, he's as country as they get! And here you are thinking of inviting him to visit the Buckland Ball with you? Why, he'll be the laughingstock!," cried Pippin. Merry brushed away tears of laughter, shaking his head slowly, "Pip's being a little harsh, but he has got a point, there, Frodo. Sam's a good fellow, but he's not exactly ready for Hobbit high society, you know. Perhaps you should rethink your idea?"
Frodo's brow wrinkled with concern, and he glanced towards the window, as if he could see Sam there. "Do you really think it would turn out that badly?" he asked, wondering. Frodo had been looking forward to taking Sam along with him to see firsthand the country that he'd spent much of his time growing up in, and the Buckland Ball had seemed like the perfect opportunity for him to show off Buckland at its best. Sure, Sam might be a little uncomfortable in new surroundings, but it never occurred to him how he might stick out in such a crowd. "I mean, I was meaning to get him ready beforehand, polish him up a bit...", Frodo's voice trailed off.
Pip whooped. "Never in a million years, Frodo! Why that speech has been bred into him through generation after generation of Gamgees; you can't turn a wild daisy into a blushing rose - it just can't be done!"
Merry added, "And even if you did - why he'd still be a Gamgee. Sam's a wizard with the greenery, but simply changing the way he speaks wouldn't cover up the the dirt of the garden on his feet. But Pip's right - you'd never get past his quaint ways of speech to begin with."
Merry stood, hands behind his back, and faced Frodo with the air of a teacher, gesturing towards the window, and Sam outside.
Merry:
Frodo,
Look at him, the true son of his Gaffer,
Condemned by every syllable to laughter.
By law he should be taken out and hung,
For the cold-blooded murder of the Shire tongue.
"Noooooodles!"
Heaven's! What a noise!
This is what the Shire population,
Calls an elementary education.
Frodo: Oh, Merry, I think you picked a poor example.
Merry:
Did I?
Hear them down in Hobbiton square,
Dropping "h's" everywhere.
Speaking Shire Talk anyway they like.
You sir, did you go to school?
Pippin (mimicking): Wadaya tike me for, a fool?
Merry:
Frodo,
No one taught him 'take' instead of 'tike!
Why can't the Hobbits teach their children how to speak?
Hear a Pincupman, or worse,
Hear a Bywaterman converse,
I'd rather hear a choir singing flat.
Chickens cackling in a barn
Just like this one!
Sam (outside):
Garn!
Merry:
I ask you, sir, what sort of word is that?
It's "Noodles" and "Garn" that keep him in his place.
Not his plain work clothes and dirty face.
Why can't the Hobbits teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction by now should be antique.
If you spoke as he does, sir,
Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be growing flowers, too.
A Hobbit's way of speaking absolutely classifies him,
The moment he talks he makes some other Shirefolk despise him.
One common language I'm afraid we'll never get.
Oh, why can't the Shire learn to set
A good example to people whose speech is painful to your ears?
The Hobbiton and Bywater hobbits leave you close to tears.
There even are places where Shire Talk completely disappears.
In Bree, they haven't used it for years!
Why can't the Hobbits teach their children how to speak?
Men all know the Common tongue, from the shore to the tallest peak.
In short, every Dwarf knows his language from "A" to "Zed"
(The Dwarves never care what they say, actually, as long as they
pronounce
it properly)
The elves all learn their Sindarin with the speed of summer lightning.
And even know their Quenyan, which is absolutely frightening.
But use proper Shire Talk and you're regarded as a freak.
Why can't the Hobbits
Why can't the Hobbits learn to speak?
Merry flopped back down on the cushions again, pleased with himself as Pippin clapped wildly and Frodo gave a few perfunctory claps with a grimace.
"I think you both underestimate Sam. I remember well all the time he spent learning his letters with Bilbo, and memorizing stories by heart. I believe he could learn anything he set his mind to - even to speak like a Bucklander, if that's what it took," Frodo said, his eyes meeting Merry's.
"Did you hear that?" Pippin gasped. "I believe that's a challenge, Merry!"
Merry nodded, not taking his eyes away from Frodo's. "I believe it is, Pippin. Frodo, do you know what you're saying?"
Frodo's jaw became set with determination. "Yes, I believe I do."
"Why, then, I think I'll call your bluff, cousin," Merry said, with a grin turning up the corners of his mouth, and a sparkle in his eyes, "And I think I know just the perfect wager. I wager that Sam will not be able to pass for a... a... a Baggins at the Buckland Ball, three months from now."
Frodo frowned. "A Baggins? Everybody will know he's not a Baggins; everybody knows who all of the Baggins's are! No, make it an... Underhill. Yes, that's it - that's a fine old family from the West of the Shire; I doubt if any of your kin are related to them."
Merry nodded, "An Underhill it is, then. But are you so sure you want to go through with this? Or, maybe I should say, are you so sure Sam will want to go through with this?"
Frodo's eyes dropped down for a second. He was remembering a conversation he and Sam had had just the other day. Sam had seemed to be setting his cap for Rosie Cotton for some time now, but with little success. Rosie seemed more attracted to the lads with the fancy clothes and the fine manners. Frodo had no doubt that Rosie was still just young, and that she would come around to Sam in time, once she'd seen through the surface glamor of the other lads, who did not have the strength of character or goodness of heart that Sam had. But Sam had seemed less certain, bemoaning his lack of the finer graces when around Rosie. When it came down to it, the thought of Sam marrying, and possibly leaving his job at Bag End brought a sadness to Frodo's heart; but he would do anything for his best friend, and if that meant helping Sam to get Rosie, then that was what he would do.
"Yes, Merry - I'm sure of it," said Frodo, his mouth smiling, but his eyes somehow saddened, and he and Merry shook on it, with Pip as the thrilled witness.
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My Fair Gamgee by Rosamunde Brownlocks
Story notes: This story was inspired by a fragment written by Politzania on the Straight Dope Message Board thread: "If LOTR had been written by someone else..." She came up with the title "My Fair Gamgee" and the snippet of a song:
All I want is a hole somewhere
Warm and snug out of the night air
And one enormous chair
Oh - wouldn't it be hobbity?
The idea stuck and wouldn't get out of my head - and grew into this adaptation in eight scenes of "My Fair Lady" as "My Fair Gamgee", complete with song parodies and appearances by Merry, Pippin, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, and other worthies of the Shire. So, my thanks, and credit for the idea to Politzania - and I hope she enjoys what came out of it!
A heartful of thanks to juliawiseuk for her wonderful work at beta'ing - thank you Jules. Thanks also to Hyel for the "Rain in Spain" parody as well as "Hannah's Honeypies"; and to Gilraen for finding a long list of Belgian sayings about the weather. And, last but not least, thanks to all of the writers of the Hilarious Story at Bit of Earth - you made me realize how much I love writing, and I've learned so much from each of you.
