It it is good to be home, I must say. I missed my hearth, my books, my chair, and of course, my family. Young Bilgo hoped that I might have returned with many exciting tales of mine and Ottho's historical trip. Alas not, I had to admit. On the road between Tuckborough and Stock, I was met by a rather unpleasant stomach complaint, which caused me to return home to Barleywick at once.
I have just returned from afternoon tea with Master Reymund on Harrow Road. Mr. Noakes left the hole in a rather sorry state when he retired to Bywater, but Reymund has decorated it splendidly. His table is dwarf-made from the Blue Mountains, of all places! To my delight, he is also enthusiastic about the relevance of Arnorian history. As I have been meaning to for some time now, I extended Master Reymund an offer to become the librarian (or keeper, if one wishes to call it that) of my collection in the Burrow, which he gratefully accepted. I trust that the library will once again be well-attended to under the care of Master Appelby, who shows much promise as a scholar (more so than I did at his young age, I dare say).
