Post date: Feb 11, 2011 12:37:42 AM
To the Gazette and the readers it may or may not concern!
Ho there halflings! I walk ya purty lands and I see things that would put yer pappies to a whipering cry.
I fish the banks of the Brandywine Bridge and happen to be at the same spot of a fishing competition! (if only I had that luck when diggin' for ore!!)
I win once.. I almost win twice by but a got bested by a mere few seconds!
A score of halflings outbested by a tunnel digging dwarf? Shame on ya! Shame indeed! (and what's on with that poorly drawn picture? It looks nothin' like me!)
But did it end there?? I collect me catches and wish to cook me up a meal so I go to the nearest supplier.
But does he sell ingredients for preparing food? Nay!!!
The provender only sells rations that could only fill a babe's tum!
I search Stock high and low and not a lad that would sell me the ingredients to prepare a nice catfish.
I was only comforted that a lass shared her mushroom pie with me.
A week later another happening.
I offer a few of ya a well riped mushroom pie grown with weeks' o' care so that it's rich scent tickles the nostrils with it's alluring sensation..
and ya say nay!? Hobbitses say nay to food..? Say nay to pie..? Unpossible! Blasphlegmic!
I dance along 'cause hopping about brings a good blush to the cheeks lmuch ike a man who's gone cussin' in the company of frail little elves!
yet I see ya take yer distance with pale faces with shaking knees that make the old folk look fit as a tookland fiddle!
I tell ya, I seen yer gammers and gaffers in worse age do a better hop I have!
I almost lost me faith in ya I did!
That was.. until I made a stop in Hobbiton-Bywater's inn (I recall it was called the mossy dragonfly or summat like that)
Turns out there was a party going on.. a party each friday with song an' dance an' riddle an' story
a party with ale and a lad playing bagpipes with glory! (though some halflings lacked the musical ear to appreciate that!)
What I'm sayin' is I had a good time and it warmed me heart like a burnin' forge to see the halfling values passed on in this merry night.
To all those wimpering little newts that skip ya elevenses to rush by on ya ponies, I tell ya!:
Learn yer roots and get on to that tavern on a friday eve! Y'might learn sumthin'.
Signed,
Myreon 'Stoutling'