Modest_Proposal July 22, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Barin "I'll let you in on a secret though. There's no magic involved in those little toy soldiers. Just fine craftsmanship. If you were to open one of them up, you'd find it full of tiny springs and cogwheels. A machine of beautiful precision." "So, tell me something of your home Master Brandybuck. You have travelled far to come East of the mountains. We see few of your kind here. Even fewer past the forest towards the lake." Come to think of it, Cecil had not put much thought into why the toys moved or chirped. It was almost against the spirit of it all. They were wondrous. “Of the Shire?” Cecil smiled. “There is nothing much to it. A few grassy mounds between all things. Overhills and underhills. A small river that runs wide and away. I'd say it looked about the same before we found it and will look no different when we leave, except where chickens and cows are concerned.” He cleared his throat and crossed his legs over a long, flat stone. “Underneath the Hills of Green There is a hair-foot in-between The apple grove and roots and breeze Whose beard has dropped below his knees He smokes his pipe and tops his brim And as he does, his hole smokes him Above his head, his cows have fled But why drink milk with wine and bread? His garden grows outside his door Where tots do sneak while he does snore To take their fill in sac and hand Before he has the sense to stand!” ———— At the threshold of the mountains: Cecil let the Men speak, looking away as they approached with spears. He drifted left toward the clearing. The river would do in a pinch. But the river was frigid and rocky. And the road back was more open than a cornfield after harvest. Thankfully, the tension subsided. He could see that the men here were different, in a way, from the men near Rhosgobel. They seemed harsher and slower to trust - perhaps from mountain living. “Why yes, my dear, the Brown Wizard himself! We travel from Rhosgobel across many miles to meet with you.” ——
Modest_Proposal July 22, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Barin "I'll let you in on a secret though. There's no magic involved in those little toy soldiers. Just fine craftsmanship. If you were to open one of them up, you'd find it full of tiny springs and cogwheels. A machine of beautiful precision." "So, tell me something of your home Master Brandybuck. You have travelled far to come East of the mountains. We see few of your kind here. Even fewer past the forest towards the lake." Come to think of it, Cecil had not put much thought into why the toys moved or chirped. It was almost against the spirit of it all. They were wondrous. “Of the Shire?” Cecil smiled. “There is nothing much to it. A few grassy mounds between all things. Overhills and underhills. A small river that runs wide and away. I'd say it looked about the same before we found it and will look no different when we leave, except where chickens and cows are concerned.” He cleared his throat and crossed his legs over a long flat stone. “Underneath the Hills of Green There is a hair-foot in-between The apple grove and roots and breeze Whose beard has dropped below his knees He smokes his pipe and tops his brim And as he does, his hole smokes him Above his head, his cows have fled But why drink milk with wine and bread? His garden grows outside his door Where tots do sneak while he does snore To take their fill in sac and hand Before he has the sense to stand!” ———— At the threshold of the mountains: Cecil let the Men speak, looking away as they approached with spears. He drifted left toward the clearing. The river would do in a pinch. But the river was frigid and rocky. And the road back was more open than a cornfield after harvest. Thankfully, the tension subsided. He could see that the men here were different, in a way, from the men near Rhosgobel. They seemed harsher and slower to trust - perhaps from mountain living. “Why yes, my dear, the Brown Wizard himself! We travel from Rhosgobel across many miles to meet with you.” ——
Modest_Proposal July 22, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Barin "I'll let you in on a secret though. There's no magic involved in those little toy soldiers. Just fine craftsmanship. If you were to open one of them up, you'd find it full of tiny springs and cogwheels. A machine of beautiful precision." "So, tell me something of your home Master Brandybuck. You have travelled far to come East of the mountains. We see few of your kind here. Even fewer past the forest towards the lake." Come to think of it, Cecil had not put much thought into why the toys moved or chirped. It was almost against the spirit of it all. They were wondrous. “Of the Shire?” Cecil smiled. “There is nothing much to it. A few grassy mounds between all things. Overhills and underhills. A small river that runs wide and away. I'd say it looked about the same before we found it and will look no different when we leave, except where chickens and cows are concerned.” He cleared his throat and crossed his legs over a long piece of flat stone. “Underneath the Hills of Green There is a hair-foot in-between The apple grove and roots and breeze Whose beard has dropped below his knees He smokes his pipe and tops his brim And as he does, his hole smokes him Above his head, his cows have fled But why drink milk with wine and bread? His garden grows outside his door Where tots do sneak while he does snore To take their fill in sac and hand Before he has the sense to stand!” ———— At the threshold of the mountains: Cecil let the Men speak, looking away as they approached with spears. He drifted left toward the clearing. The river would do in a pinch. But the river was frigid and rocky. And the road back was more open than a cornfield after harvest. Thankfully, the tension subsided. He could see that the men here were different, in a way, from the men near Rhosgobel. They seemed harsher and slower to trust - perhaps from mountain living. “Why yes, my dear, the Brown Wizard himself! We travel from Rhosgobel across many miles to meet with you.” ——
Modest_Proposal July 22, 2023 Cecil Brandybuck Barin "I'll let you in on a secret though. There's no magic involved in those little toy soldiers. Just fine craftsmanship. If you were to open one of them up, you'd find it full of tiny springs and cogwheels. A machine of beautiful precision." "So, tell me something of your home Master Brandybuck. You have travelled far to come East of the mountains. We see few of your kind here. Even fewer past the forest towards the lake." Come to think of it, Cecil had not put much thought into why the toys moved or chirped. It was almost against the spirit of it all. They were wondrous. “Of the Shire?” Cecil smiled. “There is nothing much to it. A few grassy mounds between all things. Overhills and underhills. A small river that runs wider all the way to the Great Sea. I'd say it looked about the same before we found it and will look no different when we leave, except where chickens and cows are concerned.” He cleared his throat and crossed his legs over a long piece of flat stone. “Underneath the Hills of Green There is a hair-foot in-between The apple grove and roots and breeze Whose beard has dropped below his knees He smokes his pipe and tops his brim And as he does, his hole smokes him Above his head, his cows have fled But why drink milk with wine and bread? His garden grows outside his door Where tots do sneak while he does snore To take their fill in sac and hand Before he has the sense to stand!” ———— At the threshold of the mountains: Cecil let the Men speak, looking away as they approached with spears. He drifted left toward the clearing. The river would do in a pinch. But the river was frigid and rocky. And the road back was more open than a cornfield after harvest. Thankfully, the tension subsided. He could see that the men here were different, in a way, from the men near Rhosgobel. They seemed harsher and slower to trust - perhaps from mountain living. “Why yes, my dear, the Brown Wizard himself! We travel from Rhosgobel across many miles to meet with you.” ——
