The Inn at Bree offered a full array of meats and desserts to satisfy the four hungry young Hobbits, yet Sam reckoned the true test of the establishment’s suitability was the quality of its beer! After some initial research, he determined that the beer and the rest of the menu were on a par with anything he had enjoyed “back ‘ome at the Shire, and that’s sayin’ somethin’!”
In the summers before the forming of The Fellowship, the four often stopped along the banks near the Buckleberry Ferry to glean the last of the sweet plump berries from the prickly vines. They sat on the edge of the ferry and pulled themselves to the middle of the waters to dangle their dusty feet in the deep, tossing the juicy gems into the air and catching them in their mouths, making faces at one another as if there were nothing pressing at all in their lives. No need to hurry. No reason to fear.
Merry and Pippin played their favorite game: arguing over who was taller. Sam would warn the two of them about how Farmer Maggot and his dog would soon track them down and find the basket of pilfered mushrooms and cabbages sitting next to them. His Old Gaffer would hold him responsible of course, he worried out loud.
Frodo told Sam he’d vouch for him if such a need arose. Then he lay back and stared up at the tree tops into the sky and wondered what had become of his old Uncle Bilbo. He missed his stories of adventures with trolls, dragons, dwarves and Elves. He thought that one day he would go on an adventure himself, if the occasion presented itself. Frodo couldn’t imagine what kind of adventure would ever draw him more than a day’s walk from his beloved Shire. Even so, Frodo resolved to bring up the idea with Gandalf, if the old Wizard ever did return to Bag End.