Part One:

Frodo crept slowly up to the fence. He signaled his friend, Marmadas, to lay low. “Wait, here,” he told her. “I’ll climb over the fence, grab some, and we can split them afterward,”

“Why can’t I come, too?” asked the girl, “I’m not afraid!”

“You’d catch your long skirts on the fence. Besides, if both of us go, we would make too much noise, and be caught!”

Marmadas plunked herself on the grass, knowing it would be pointless to argue with Frodo. Anyway, he was a few years her elder, and probably knew best.

“Hey, could you give me a boost, though?” Frodo inquired, after realizing that the fence escalated just over his reach.

Marmadas arose and, forming her hands into a foothold, aided Frodo to the top of the fence. Once at the top, the agile young hobbit nimbly hurdled himself to the ground.

Landing in a summersault, Frodo tumbled for a few feet. Slowly he stood up, pushed his mussed-up curls out of his face and took his bearings. Off to his left stretched a large cornfield. In front of him, though many yards away, he perceived a small farmhouse. To his right he saw what he was after. A small garden, defended by only an insignificant fence, basked in the afternoon sun. A lone, seemingly abandoned shed, stood nearby. “This will be a cinch!” Frodo exclaimed, strolling cautiously toward the vegetable patch.

As he neared the garden, a low growl emitted from the shack. Becoming a bit unnerved, Frodo attempted to step lighter. He soon reached the plot and stepped carefully over the barrier before reaching out to pick a handful of mushrooms.

Unexpectedly, the door to the lean-to burst forth, and three or so large, toothy, snapping dogs charged at Frodo.


Back on the other side of the fence, Marmadas waited impatiently. “What is taking him so long?” she asked herself. After a few minutes, just when she was trying to figure out how to hop over the fence herself and join her friend, the girl picked up the sound of terrified shrieks and growling horror. Seconds later, a wild form crashed over the enclosure and shouted at Marmadas.

“Run!” Frodo screamed, already yards away. Marmadas gathered her skirts and tore after Frodo. Fortunately, the dogs, who were unable to scale the fence, snarled ferociously after the hobbits from behind the gate.

Marmadas struggled to keep up with Frodo, who dashed through the town faster than a spreading wildfire. Finally, he slowed down and darted into a deserted side road.

“Did you get some mushrooms?” the girl inquired.

“Are you kidding?” Frodo gasped, “I was too busy running for my life! Farmer Maggot’s dogs are deadly!”

Print Friendly, PDF & Email