The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

piosenniel · 08-06-2002, 10:12 PM

Olo had Bird give him a hand up as he climbed the tree. She wanted walnuts of a uniform shape and color, and he spent a long time dropping down nuts for her persusal.

He had plenty of time to think while his hands sought out the nuts. Something had stirred in his memory when she had talked about how she was going to make money using the shells.

He was just a tiny hobbit lad when a troop of travelling performers making their way to the Prancing Pony in Bree had stopped at his family farm near Michel Delving. One of their carts had broken down, and they had spent several days at the farm while his father and older brothers worked on the repairs. During the days, they would help out with chores about the farm, but in the evenings, after supper, they would practice their various arts and entertain the family.

Now one of these fellows, as he recalled, had played a quick fingered game of hiding a small round stone under one nut shell half while mixing it in with a number of other identical appearing shells on the table in front of him. He would then set up a patter of constant, rhythmic talking while moving the shell halves about in a mesmerizing pattern. Try as he might, Olo could never quite catch which shell the stone was under.

That is, until the fellow asked Olo if he might like to help 'entertain' the good folk of his family by assisting him. He proved a quick learner and soon both he and the fellow had gotten quite good at drawing his family members in and tricking them.

It was all in fun, of course, and Olo was quite proud of his part as assistant. His father, later, however, had pulled him aside and talked to him gently of how such a game and such 'tricking' could be harmful if done in only for greedy purposes.

'Now what was that word the fellow had used to name the assistant?' he thought to himself. He jumped down from the lowest branch with the last of the needed walnuts, and the sharp contact with the ground jogged his memory.

'Miss Bird!' he said, somewhat aghast, 'You don't mean to make me your shill, do you?'

08-06-2002, 10:12 PM	#316
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Olo had Bird give him a hand up as he climbed the tree. She wanted walnuts of a uniform shape and color, and he spent a long time dropping down nuts for her persusal. He had plenty of time to think while his hands sought out the nuts. Something had stirred in his memory when she had talked about how she was going to make money using the shells. He was just a tiny hobbit lad when a troop of travelling performers making their way to the Prancing Pony in Bree had stopped at his family farm near Michel Delving. One of their carts had broken down, and they had spent several days at the farm while his father and older brothers worked on the repairs. During the days, they would help out with chores about the farm, but in the evenings, after supper, they would practice their various arts and entertain the family. Now one of these fellows, as he recalled, had played a quick fingered game of hiding a small round stone under one nut shell half while mixing it in with a number of other identical appearing shells on the table in front of him. He would then set up a patter of constant, rhythmic talking while moving the shell halves about in a mesmerizing pattern. Try as he might, Olo could never quite catch which shell the stone was under. That is, until the fellow asked Olo if he might like to help 'entertain' the good folk of his family by assisting him. He proved a quick learner and soon both he and the fellow had gotten quite good at drawing his family members in and tricking them. It was all in fun, of course, and Olo was quite proud of his part as assistant. His father, later, however, had pulled him aside and talked to him gently of how such a game and such 'tricking' could be harmful if done in only for greedy purposes. 'Now what was that word the fellow had used to name the assistant?' he thought to himself. He jumped down from the lowest branch with the last of the needed walnuts, and the sharp contact with the ground jogged his memory. 'Miss Bird!' he said, somewhat aghast, 'You don't mean to make me your shill, do you?' __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.