My dearest Cock-Robin,

Everyone in the room burst out into laughter.

“What???” Robin frowned. “How…? Why that old so-in-so. Not even my friends call me that to my face!”

“Yes they do,” Tom laughed until he cried.

“Corabell Newkirk said it to your face after she slapped you at the Green Dragon last night!” Bilbo crowed. Everyone giggled and tried to control themselves.

“I asked you to not make me laugh,” Ruby panted.

“Would you mind terribly much if I finished this blasted letter, people?” Robin huffed. “I have to get up early tomorrow and open up the bakery, so I want to get out of here as soon as I can.” The room quieted down and he continued.

Sorry about the name. I could not help myself. You see, the mirrors do show a lot of, um, detail when you concentrate. And, my lad, you seen to have no compunctions about showing off your extremely fine detail. At least to the ladies of the town.

That brought another round of laughter. Robin’s normally tanned face was burning a bright crimson from fine pointed ear tip to ear tip. “Shut up, will you? Let me get on with this.” He cleared his throat.

I thought long and hard about your legacy. For underneath all your bravado and public courting of the ladies, you are a decent gentlehobbit with simple wants and desires. Easily pleased and pleasing in return to all fortunate enough to meet you.

“Now, that’s more like it, Uncle Frodo,” Robin smiled.

“Aw, go on,” Hamfast said.

So I present you with a hidden treasure only your skills can bring back to life.

“Huh?” Goldilocks said, sitting forward in the rocking chair. “Bring back to life?”

“Shush, Goldie. Let the lad finish,” Elanor waved at her from across the room.

Your gift is in the chest at the foot of my bed. I do hope they have lasted through the years. I really should not worry about that, since they come from the Golden Woods of Lothlorien. The Lady Galadriel tells me they will last in their current state for an entire age of Men. Her lambas certainly lasted longer than I could have ever dreamed. Hopefully, you will use them before that.

They are more precious than gold to one who can unlock their slumber. A gift of the Elves to a master baker.

Much love,
Uncle Frodo

“How does he DO that?” Hamfast murmured again.

Daisy brought out a wooden box from the bottom of the chest. It was of a silvery-brown wood. Pippin went over to inspect the unusual box.

“This reminds me of something…” he mused. “Let me see… Oh yes. Dad had a little box made out of this same type wood. He said it came from the Golden Lady and had the Party Tree nut inside it, along with some dirt from that realm. I bet this is mallorn wood, though why anybody would sacrifice a mallorn tree for the wood is beyond me. They are so rare.”

“It must have come from an already-dead one,” Elanor commented, “since the Elves never chop down a tree for any reason.”

“What’s inside?” Merry asked.

Robin opened the lid. Inside were three identical tins. Robin opened all three to reveal hard cakes of a whitish substance, each wrapped in waxy leaves. Robin frowned and sniffed at the cakes. His eyes lighted up.

“Soap?” Faramir asked.

“It’s a block of yeast!” he said. “Actually, three different types of yeasts. Wow! I could become rich with this if I could only figure out how to bloom them without killing them.”

“Don’t you have enough yeast already?” Rose asked. “I mean, you do work in a bakery and all.”

“Not like these,” Robin said. “I’ve never smelled anything like them. Completely different. I’ll be the talk of Hobbiton! A completely new taste. Wow! I can’t wait to show these to the lads at the shop.”

Robin rewrapped the cakes into their leaves and carefully placed them inside their tins. He replaced the lid on the mallorn box and carried back to with him to a corner of the room.