I decided that the party would be held at the twelfth day of June, one week after I'd had my idea. I set off almost immediately to invite people to the event. First, I went down to Number 3, Bagshot Row. Little Marigold Gamgee was sweeping the porch as I came up the walk.

"Halloa, Mr. Frodo!" she grinned at me. "An' what can I do for you?"

"Evening, Mari," I greeted. "I was looking for your brother Samwise. Is he in?"

She nodded, her golden braids swinging. "Sure 'e is. Go on in, Master Baggins. 'E's in the kitchen, fixing supper. But what else would 'e be doin', eh?" Marigold rolled her eyes playfully, making fun of the way Sam loves to cook.

"Thank you," I laughed. With that, I went into their hole, where I had gone many times, and knew almost as well as Bag End. It is much more simple, but very cozy and full of hobbits all of whom are very dear.

"Youn' Frodo!" came a loud, booming voice from across the hall. I grinned and waved at Sam's father, known as The Gaffer. I ducked into the kitchen before he could start telling one of his interesting, but very time- consuming stories.

I was greeted by a glorious smell. Sure enough, there was good old Sam, hunched over a big kettle that was emitting a beautiful odor of roasted rabbit.

Sam turned around, and his eyes brightened. "Mr. Frodo! I didn't hear you come in!"

"That's unusual," I replied, since Sam has the keenest ears in the Shire. "What have you been up to on this lovely day?"

He scrunched his eyebrows and looked very serious, and I knew that, like his father, he was about to regale me. It did not matter that the subject could be as boring as ever. "Hmmm. I went gardenin' at the Bracegirdle hole. Seems Master and Misses are havin' another child." He paused, waiting for a response, which was not hard to produce.

My mouth dropped. "My! How many little hobbits does that make?"

"A ton!" responded Sam, and it was clear that his mind was on other matters, because normally, he would name each of them. "It seems this one was a bit of a surprise, from what I've been hearin' in town. That reminds me- I went down to the village to buy some soap, two loaves of bread. One was wheat, and the other one-" he paused for dramatic purposes-" was rye. Then I stopped by the butchers, and they were havin' a dirty hard time because this huge pig was runnin' 'round wild an' chasin' folks- he'd escaped from the pen by O'Tollon's slaughterin' house, they thought." Sam pounded his fist into his hand and exclaimed," It knocked down the sign near town! An' then, you won't believe what happened next. Your cousin Pippin Took runs into town, with Tom Cotton, Marigold Gamgee and some others. Seems they'd let the pig go free- felt sorry for it, or somethin'!"

"Oh dear," I replied, shifting my feet. This was no big surprise. Pippin and his friends always found some way to entertain themselves, and it always made at least one hobbit angry. Aside from that, O'Tollon and my young cousin were what you might call 'clashing personalities'. In simpler terms, Pippin always finds a way to irritate the old farmer. "Did old O'Tollon catch them?"

"Well.. That's the thing of it. O'Tollon says he's gonna get them if it's the last thing he does," Sam responded thoughtfully. "But I reckon they have a fair advantage over him- he can't run like he used to, his eyesight's poor, and he won't go in the Green Dragon because he has a runnin' feud with old man Cotton!"

I chuckled, but could sense that Sam was about to go into why exactly there was a running feud, so I interrupted him.

"Sam? I have a question to ask you," I began.

"D'ya need me to garden at Bag End? I could go over after supper. Or- I could do it right now!" He turned away from the stew pot. "Mari can tend to the-"

I held my hand up. "No, Sam. Bag End is looking quite lovely, after the pruning job that you did yesterday. What I'd like to know is if you would care to join Meriadoc, Peregrin and I for a little celebration on June twelfth."

Sam nodded. "Of course I would! What time shall I arrive, to start cleaning? I'll wager Master Meriadoc will be wantin' the room on the south end o' the hall, he always likes to be awakened by sunlight and that room's by far the-"

"SAM!" I interrupted again. "I don't think you understand me. I don't want you to clean. I want you to attend the party!"

"What shall I bring, then? I can have me sisters help and make a few pies, and then we can get Mam to-"

"No, Sam! I just.. want.. you.. to.. be.. a.. GUEST!" I explained slowly. "Take a load off, for once. Come, celebrate with us!"

A smile claimed his face. He nodded. "I'd be very honored. But you must let me bring some o' me corn fritters, at least."

I shook my head, and patted his shoulder. "Sam, if you must. You're hopeless," I told him playfully.

"Aye, Mr. Frodo," he nodded once more, giving a small chuckle. "Aye."

There was a moment of quiet, in which my heart sank because I just knew Sam was lamenting over being too 'hopeless' to speak with Rosie. I felt bad for joking with him, for a moment anyhow, before I brightened with the realization that I was going to get them together in just a week's time.

After denying Sam's request for me to stay for dinner, I left to find Rosie Cotton.