Wybert Diggings ‘ere and at yer service.  Well, I started out on a farm off the road twixt Tuckborough and Woodhall.  When ‘e first caught a sight of me, me old gaffer cried “Let’s call ‘im Bert!”.  “Why Bert?” henquired me ma.  “Alrighty then, that’ll do” quoth the gaffer, and ‘ere I am.  Or so the story goes.

Any road, there I grew and learned to farm and fish from me old da and I learned to cook and brew from me ma who, if I says it meself, ‘ad quite a reputation for ‘er pies an’ ale in those parts. In me teens an’ tweens when I’d done with me chores I’d be off hexplorin’ the Shire an’ I loves to fish the pools an’ rivers, pick the wild fruits an’, of course, enjoy the inns and the diff’rent brews.

Another big hinfluence on me life ‘as bin me Uncle ‘Umfrye.  ‘E was (mebbe still is!) known for his poems and ‘is storytellin’ and as you can see ‘e made it ‘is business to learn me me letters.  Now I ‘as to tell you I ‘as been known to turn the odd rhyme mese4lf as I goes about me bisness in the Shire! 

Well I ‘is generally regarded as a big lad an’ me ma says I’ll never stop growin’ cos I never stops eatin’.  Anyhow, one day our local bounder ‘e says I should join up to ‘elp ‘em out (I thinks ‘e wants to spend ‘is time in the inn while I do the work).  But a bounder I be, an’ I ‘as learned to fight a bit, though I doesn’t go lookin’ for trouble, an I is proud to protect the Shire from nasty goblins an’ Black Riders an’ such.

The other week old Uncle ‘Umf ‘e says to me: “Wybert lad, it’s time for ye to get out and see the world a bit.  Get yerself off to Michel Delving an’ meet some new folk.”  Well in our family ‘Umfrye is known to be a bit odd – ‘e ‘as been off on hadventures far from the Shire ‘tis said, or at least if yer believe ‘alf ‘is stories – but  as yer may know the long and short of it is I took ‘is hadvice and set off on me travels.