"I've made it at last! After that journey I could do with some liquid refreshment, some old toby from my favourite pipe and a good dose of old fashioned shire hospitality, I hope to find them all here." "Fosco Burrows is my name" the weary traveller announces to all at the bar who are prepared to listen and for my sins I own a broken cart and a horse that is fit for retirement!"
The thirsty young hobbit orders an ale and tells the drinkers at the bar about his journey. "I'm a miller from the small village of Whitwell about 7 miles south of Tuckborough, I've travelled the 25 miles to Bywater to dwell whilst I hope to do business regarding corn with Farmer Cotton who farms these fields"
"Anybody travelling the East road tonight will find my cart and horse in a sorry state by the side of the highway, for I have been forced to walk the last few miles!" The hobbit then excuses himself and retires to a table near the fire to catch his breath and more importantly sample the local wares.
<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:01 AM December 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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"What's that?" "This my friend is a pint" "It comes in pints? I'm getting one!"
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