Situation Vacant
Once he had chosen a selection of furniture and household essentials from the shed adjoining Aunty Prue’s shop, that lady led him back into the yard behind her cottage where they were met by Watchman Dudo Underfoot.
“All ready, Dudo?” asked Aunty Prue.
“Aye, she’s taking her over there now,” he replied. “And I fetched Ricbardo to open the place up.”
“Right then. I’ll get Gumbo to take all his stuff over to the burrow – and I’ll get that lazy nephew of mine to help, if I can find him! Off you both go then – what are you waiting for?”
Without further ado Aunty Prue left them standing there, and headed back into her cottage, a menacing frown upon her visage which didn’t bode well for the unfortunate Colum.
Dudo led Filibert a little way down the street until they came to a building which stood in a paved yard, completely enclosed by a low wall and green painted railings. At the gate stood an elderly bespectacled hobbit woman and a pretty young lass who Filibert immediately recognised as the barmaid at the inn, The Singing Badger, where they had spent the previous evening.
In the porch, next to the door of the building, stood a plump hobbit wearing overalls, a broom in one hand and a large bunch of keys hanging from his belt.
Dudo immediately introduced the younger woman to Filibert.
“This,” he said, “is Miss Amber Bloomblush. You may remember her from our visit to the inn last night.”
“Very pleased to meet you again, Miss,” said Filibert graciously, bowing slightly.
“Pleased to meet you too, sir,” she replied with a curtsey. “And hello again, Dudo.” She smiled warmly at the Watchman and Filibert could not help noticing a slight reddening about his cheeks when she did so. She was certainly a very pretty girl.
“Oh, forgive me sir,” she said, suddenly flustered. “May I introduce my Gammer, Mistress Bracegirdle.” The old lady nodded slightly in Filibert’s direction. “Gammer used to be the schoolmistress here,” said Amber.
“This is the old village schoolhouse, you see,” explained Dudo quickly. “Come on inside and we’ll explain.”
The plump hobbit standing by the door held it open for them to enter and Dudo introduced him as Ricbardo Goodchild, the school caretaker. They entered a single large classroom with individual chairs and desks set out in rows, with a teacher’s desk facing them in front of a large chalkboard which hung upon the wall.
Filibert could not help noticing a pile of dust in one corner and an old duster left on one of the cupboards in the room, as if someone had been interrupted in performing some hasty cleaning.
“Well now,” said Dudo, not a little nervously, “this is how things is.”
The old lady interrupted him.
“This is how things are, Dudo Underfoot!” she said sharply. “How things are! Didn’t I teach you anything?” He winced. “I will do the explaining.” She went on.
“The fact is that I can’t teach the children anymore. I am too old. I find it difficult to walk, I can’t see too well, even with my spectacles, and my hearing is not what it was.” She paused for a moment. It seemed to Filibert that it had not been easy for her to be able to speak those words. Amber squeezed her gammer’s hand gently.
“The villagers have asked me to help to find my successor. So, Master Diggle, I need to ask you some questions.”
Filibert gasped.
“Do you like reading books? Do you know history? Do you know all your letters? Do you understand grammar? Do you know addition and subtraction and multiplication and division? Do you know the names of all the common plants and flowers? “
“That’s a lot of questions,” Filibert cut in. “I suppose…”
“I hadn’t finished, but as long as you know some of it, it doesn’t really matter,” she said. “The important question is this. Do you like and understand children? And I already know the answer. Amber told me how you guessed where that poor silly boy had gone and how you were brave enough to go into those woods to find him. You’ve got the job. Amber, please take me home.”
Filibert detected a tear in her eye as she turned to the door. He wondered how many years she had spent teaching the young hobbits here. Just before she left, she turned back and said:
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you mind!”
When she had gone Dudo turned to him and said:
“Gammer is your neighbour, you know. She lives next door.” Filibert remembered the twitching curtain.
It occurred to Filibert that the job she told him he had got was one that he’d never applied for, but somehow he doubted whether it would have made any difference.
“The village children have had no schooling for quite a few months now,” said Dudo. “I bet they’ll be looking forward to coming to school again.”
Filibert wasn’t quite so sure.
“Now if there’s anything you need for your lessons just let Aunty Prue know. Ricbardo here will get the place cleaned up and I reckon you’ll be able to start in a day or so.”
Right on cue, the caretaker appeared, broom in hand and as Dudo led Filibert back towards his new home they heard him break into song in a rich baritone as he set about his work.
“What a beautiful voice,” remarked Filibert.
Exactly three days later, Filibert found himself ready to depart from what everyone insisted on calling his new home in the Old Smials, and setting off, with more than a little apprehension, for his first day in his new job.
A remarkable transformation had taken place in such a very short time. Norbert Handyman, the work gang foreman, and his crew had immediately set about clearing out broken furniture, sweeping the floors, repairing the single window and the doors and fittings, and painting the walls and ceilings. Gumbo Hamfist, the cart pusher, a gentle giant of a hobbit, had brought over all the furnishings and household items Filibert had chosen at Aunty Prue’s and these were brought inside and arranged appropriately with the help of the hapless Colum, who seemed to have an eye for knowing where things would look just right.
A succession of visitors had arrived from all over the village bringing essentials and gifts – food and drink, of course, but items of bedding, new curtains and all manner of things to make the place look more like home, so that before long Filibert had to admit that he occupied a very comfortable abode indeed.
As he glanced at his own reflection in the full length mirror he had found at Aunty Prue’s, and which now hung on the wall next to his front door, he was startled by what he saw. Normally quite a casual dresser, he was now garbed in a dark grey, woven jacket and matching trousers, a plain white linen shirt and blue bow tie, and a black, full length, flowing gown about his shoulders.
These items had been presented to him by his neighbour from two doors up, old Gammer Goodenough, to whom he had been introduced by his next-door neighbour, the old schoolmistress, Gammer Bracegirdle. Gammer Goodenough was declared to be the finest seamstress and tailor in the village, and the two old ladies insisted that what he wore now was the proper dress for any self-respecting schoolmaster, but he couldn’t help feeling that the image he presented was more than a little severe.
At the school gate a crowd of hobbit mothers, and some fathers, had gathered and with them were even more children of various ages. The plump caretaker greeted him respectfully and ushered him into the classroom. The children followed and straight away took up their places and sat down at their desks. On his own desk had been placed a bag of apples.
“A gift from my pa,” said a young hobbit girl sitting at one of the front desks. “I’m Rose Buggins, sir. You rescued my brother.”
Filibert cleared his throat. “I am Fil… er Master Diggle,” he said. “I shall write my name on the board.” He did so and turned back to face the class. Before him he saw a sea of young faces, some eagerly expectant, some apprehensive, and some eying him intently, rather in the manner of predators inspecting their prey!
