Ottho inspected his future investment for another time, caressing every inch with his fingers. The petulant purchaser was going at it for some twenty minutes, and Gib Heathstraw was at the end of his limit. "She isn't going to turn into gold if you keep touching her, Mr Hobbs. Pay up the price or walk away. " Ottho took his hands from the merchandise to speak to her owner. "She is not the looker you promised, Gib. A few cracks and wrinkles that weren't brought up when we spoke before. She is sturdy, I will give you that and I think that she will be a true comfort at the fireside. I will give you a silverpenny, yet that is it." The hobbit raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked to the salesman, who was glad enough that he got rid of her as she was taking up too much space. Even if she was but a small one. Gib presented his hand to the hobbit and the deal was made. "It is a fine chair, mister Hobbs. You can get her home yourself?"
A few hours later, when it was close to nightfall and the sun was starting to go to sleep, the hobbit was lighting up the hearth fire with some wood. Ottho sat down on his new chair, with a mug of light ale on the arm of the chair. After sitting there for about half an hour the choice was made. "This be a good chair, Mister Heathstraw." The woodworker, who sat besides our titular hero, raised his own mug to the hobbit. "I told you so, Hobbs. She is rather heavy though, so I think that I need to keep sitting for a moment before I head home." The hobbit shook his head in protest when he stood up to walk over to the kitchen. "Nonsense! I will make us something to eat. Got to repay you for dragging her up the hill. You like some bread with cheese? Might have some stew left from last sunday."
The woodworker merely took a sip from his ale as he looked into the fire. Both are fine.
