Frodo is not yet seven, Ham is ten, and Half is about six. Dedicated to VeryScaryCarnival.
Halfred came to find Frodo and Hamson down on the Row. Breathless, “Come quick! Dad!”
They followed him up into the gardens of Bag End. Beneath the hedge lay the Gaffer, still in the summer heat. “I think as he’s dead!” Half whispered.
“What d’we do?” Ham asked.
“Dead things should be buried,” Frodo assured them.
They filled the barrow with compost and began to cover the still body. But as his mouth and nostrils began to fill, Hamfast Gamgee started up, coughing.
“Fools!” he choked, “I hain’t dead yet! Can’t I have a nap if I’ve a mind t’such?”