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Al came over to the table the man with the tome was occupying and sat opposite him. Very soon the innkeeper brought him the beer he had asked for. “The service here is fast, I see,” Al thought approvingly, “almost as good as in the tavern back in Brandy Hall.”
“Seredic Boffin, Innkeeper, at your service,” the hobbit who brought the mug introduced himself. “If there is anything else you need, please let me know,” he added. Although his voice was cheerful, Al noted that it wasn’t very enthusiastic, even slightly annoyed. The innkeeper also asked the man if he wanted anything.
Before the man could reply, Al butted in.
“Good morrow, Master Boffin!” after all, the morning wasn’t that bad; “Alferad Brandybuck at your service! It is an honour for me to be drinking the most bestest beer in the Farthing in your wonderful inn!” That wasn’t exactly true, for Al did not drink the beer yet; “And even a greater honour to do it with you, Master Boffin!” Or, rather, his honour to be sitting with me, Al thought: you don’t meet a hobbit like me every day!
Al paused for a moment, basking smugly in his self-importance. He opened his mouth to continue complimenting his future stay, when the man with the book cut him off. “If my muther heard him now, o will she be angry about him interrupting!” Al thought. He then recalled that the reason he was here was to get away from his ‘muther’, so he let the matter drop and listened patiently to what the man had to say.
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