[Primrose Bolger]

‘My goodness!’ thought Ginger, shaking her head in wonder at the man she’d just brought supper to. ‘He’s a bit rough-hewn!’ The only big Folk she’d really gotten to know were Miz Aman and Mister Derufin. Now Miz Aman was quite friendly, really, and easy to be with. And Mister Derufin, well, he was more like a long legged Hobbit. She tucked away her encounter with the fellow for future reference.

She had just stopped to clean off a vacated table when a loud voice caught her attention. Her head turned round in time to see an angry Hobbit, chair tipped over on the floor, glaring at Ferdy across the room. Grabbing some dry towels from the bar, she ran to see how she could help.

‘Here, now,’ she said, running to stand between Ferdy and the red-faced customer. ‘Dry yourself up a bit,’ she said, handing the wet Hobbit a towel. ‘Then come with me, sir. Cook’ll get you fixed up right quick, I’m sure. Go on, now. I’ll follow right after,’ she urged him.

Ginger handed Ferdy the rest of the towels. ‘Best clean up here, before Cook wonders why you’re wasting her good cider,’ she said. ‘The mop’s just inside the kitchen door.’ She tapped her toe on the floor where the cider had splattered. ‘Bit sticky!’ She gave him a little smile before turning to follow the wet Hobbit into the kitchen.