Isengar Took stretched as he reached his favorite chair on the far side of the colorful back garden behind the Great Smials. Here, at least, he could find some peace, and be able to soak up some sunlight into his creaking bones. Assured no Hobbitesses were about, he removed his shirt and sat down.
“The Moon snagged the bottle from the wharf of the Sun;
The wind’s in the sails and the ship’s on the run....” he sang to himself, then paused at the sound of a loud crack.
“What in the name of Ossë!” he cursed as he stood up, peering into the trees that bordered the garden. In the distance he could see that monkey, Bilbo Baggins, disappearing through the shrubs back toward the east sheep pasture. “I swear--I will have Belladonna’s hair for my violin bow if that son of hers doesn’t stop spying on me!”