[piosenniel]

‘Well isn’t he just something,’ Cook said, watching the monkey tuck into the little bowl of cut up apple she’d given him. His hands are so deft she thought, watching him turn the pieces round about, this way and that. And his little wizened face with its bright black eyes peered up at her now and then, looking as if he might at any moment drop a comment into the conversation. She’d never in her life seen a creature so charming or so clever. ‘Shimshin,’ she said to him, offering him a thick slice of bread, fresh from the oven, ‘you are what my old gran would call a right wonder.’

The two lads, Seamus and Owen, who had come with the monkey, had been set up with hot tea and toast with jam. Later in the morning, she’d told them, there would be eggs and fat sausages from the Chubb farm just south of Bywater. Gil and his fellows would be in by then, wanting breakfast before they helped with the taking of many of the Inn tables out to the front yard. ‘Have to dry up a bit, though, before we do that,’ Cook went on. As the three travelers tucked into their small meal, Cook bustled about the kitchen, taking out loaves of hot bread from the ovens, putting new pans of risen dough in.

The heat from the ovens was making the kitchen grow exceedingly warm. Cook opened the back door to let in a little cool air, then looked apprehensively toward Shimshin. He’d huddled up against Seamus, and she could almost hear the little fellow’s teeth chattering. ‘Oh, my! We can’t have you getting cold all over again,’ she said to him. ‘Let’s move you three to the Common Room. There aren’t many up yet; you can take a table by the warm fire and relax and dry out until Gil comes in.’ She refilled the pot of tea for them and had them fetch out their plates of toast and the pots of jam. Seeing them all settled in to her satisfaction, she returned to her kitchen.

Through the opened back door she could now hear sounds coming from the stable. Loud talking, with Merry’s voice mixed in, and the rustling about of a number of people. Checking once on her loaves just newly put in the oven, she tied her robe securely about her, and grabbing her rather formidable marble rolling pin (a present from a Dwarven traveler to the Inn long ago) she made her way to the stable . . .