“Good!” grunted Bilbo, smiling down at the letter he’d been reading.
“Good what?” asked Frodo, looking up from the translation Bilbo had set him for his morning lesson. Sam glanced up briefly, then returned his gaze to the line he was copying.
“Cousin Gotto Grubb has finally decided to propose to Gladiola Gravelly. He plans to ask her to marry him next week at the Harvest Banquet at the Grange Hall.”
Frodo grinned at Sam over their work. “Then shall we gather gladioli, Sam, for their table at the banquet to help Gotto gather his Gladiola?”
Sam laughed with glee.