“Your turn, Hamfast,” Bilbo said.

Goldilocks returned to the rocking chair, her precious package of her grandmother’s old clothes held tightly in her arms. Faramir stepped aside to let his brother-in-law past, then retook his place behind his beloved wife. He absentmindedly played with the golden curls spilling out from beneath her bonnet.

Bilbo handed his brother the letter and moved the little high-back chair to its place next to the writing desk. Bilbo sat down to enjoy listening to Hamfast, who had an unusually deep and resonate bass voice.

Hamfast pulled out his magnifier from his coat pocket, cleared his throat, and began to read.

Dearest Hamfast,

Sometimes I see you as a little lad, all full of mischief and running off to catch frogs and turtles down at the Water in the glow of twilight. Sometimes the mirrors show a mature hobbit singing to enraptured listeners in the dark taverns. And sometimes the still waters show you working, working, working in the quiet of the night and by soft candlelight. A lover of the nighttime. A worker in mysteries. More alike in temperament to wizards than any hobbit has ever been.

“How does…. um, did, Uncle Frodo know these things?” Merry whispered to Rose. “He’s described Hammie to a tea.”

“Do you mind?” Hamfast turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow. “I’m trying to read here.”

“Sorry,” Merry grinned and shut his lips tightly. Rose giggled. Hamfast shot her a glance which would have withered her namesake on the bush. She too, shut her lips into a tight line, then broke into a smile as Hamfast returned his attention to the letter.

My gift is for the apothecary. Or perhaps you are a physician. I am not certain, as the waters become confusing for me to view. In any case, I see that you are a good pupil. You have listened well to your first teacher – your father, and also to the ?herblorist? I think it is. Ah, forgive your Uncle Frodo. It is not as easy to see clearly in darkness as in light.

But enough of your past. What I see is of your present. The now, if you will. Now is the time for experimentation, testing and decision-making. Now is the time for you to choose your path. Great goodness or great ill can come from your knowledge and love of plants, animals and minerals. It is up to you to choose how to apply what you have learned in the dark.

Hamfast. Our beloved Rose named you. You are named after Sam’s father. A good hobbit. A stern hobbit. You will never know your Grandfather Gamgee. A pity. He would have been so proud of his namesake. The Gaffer could neither read nor write, but his common sense was outstanding. Sometimes his council was sought out by even the greatest of the Wise - the wizard Gandalf. Your council will also be valued. But beware of those who would use your skills and knowledge for un-honorable means. My advice to you: be precise in all your doings. And come out into the light of day every once in awhile.

My gift to you, Hamfast, is in the chest at the foot of my bed. Be careful with it, as it is fragile.

Love,
Uncle Frodo

“Fragile?” Elanor said. “Hope it wasn’t crushed under all the other stuff that’s come out of that trunk.”

“Here, let me,” Primrose said as she and Daisy once again stood up and looked into the old chest. She pulled out wooden box with a yellowed paper tag addressed to Hamfast. “It’s for you.”

Hamfast put away his magnifier and accepted the small chest. It was not wide or long, but was very deep. The wood was of dark-stained mahogany with silver hinges and a silver keyhole with matching key. He turned the key, springing the lid open.

Inside was a thickly-padded compartment. The padding was of red velvet and fitted around its treasure to ensure that the contents of the box would not move about, even if dropped. Hamfast stared in wonder at the contents. He carefully lifted out a scale. Twin arms extended from its pewter centerpiece, and from each arm dangled a shallow pewter bowl hanging from tiny silver chains. Hamfast walked the delicate tool over to the writing desk and set it on the flat surface. The scales rocked back and forth, then settled into perfect balance. The centerpiece was in the form of a woman, blindfolded and holding the scale’s arms in one hand, the balance indicator in the form of a sword clutched in her other hand held before her chest. About the base was some writing. Hamfast quickly retrieved his magnifying glass and peered at the inscription.

“What’s it say?” Pippin asked.

“Um, it says…. “ Hamfast squinted and turned the scales around to read the entire inscription. “It says, ‘Truth is blind to needs and wants.’”

“What do you suppose that means?” Tom asked.

“It means that the truth cannot be influenced by outsiders, no matter how badly you might want the results to be different,” Ruby said.

“Hey, Hammie, what are these?” Daisy asked. She pulled out a tiny weight. “It looks like a miniature chess piece.”

Hamfast came back over to the box. “It’s a standardized weight. See, you put that in one of the little bowls on the scale, and then measure out whatever it is you are using into the other bowl until the scales balance. That way you know exactly how much stuff you’re using. We do that when mixing up potions. It’s important that you not put in too much or too little of the active ingredient or you could end up hurting or even killing someone.” He looked through the compartment, and whistled in appreciation. “Wow. Mister Bolger doesn’t have anything nearly as precise as these.”

“What’s underneath?” Frodo asked.

Hamfast removed the scale compartment. Inside was a collection of the most beautiful crystal flasks he had ever beheld. Large ones, small ones, tiny ones. Curious long, thin connecting pipes. Flasks with lips. Flasks with measuring marker lines etched into the crystal. Each one with its own hand-fitted cork stopper. There was even a matched set of glass measuring spoons and funnels. They sparkled in the sunlight.

“Wow, Hamfast. You could really have fun experimenting with that setup,” Faramir said.

“Could you brew me a beer?” Bilbo laughed.

Hamfast flashed him a genuine smile. “All right. All right. Enough fun. Let’s get on with this or we’re going to be here till sundown. Who’s next?”

“That would be me!” Daisy giggled. “I’m not going to read my letter first. I’m going straight to the gift.”

She reached into the chest.