As we headed off to Fanciful Farm, Bennie’s Pony breeding establishment, a low rumble caused me to look skyward. Dark clouds had gathered swiftly in the late afternoon sky, threatening rain. I quickened my pace, as did the others. Fastred took the lead, looking and acting, (in my opinion) as if he’d played an indispensable part in the finding of the painting.

"I can’t tell you just how upset Bennie was to have found that painting hanging over her pony’s stall." He was saying. "Why, as she put it, if it had fallen it could have seriously hurt that stallion of hers." He then leaned towards me. "I’m rather surprised that the prankster behind this isn’t feeling a breeze through his britches or possibly missing a couple of fingers. When Bennie first acquired him from the Elves, that little demon nearly nailed me a couple of times with his hooves. And just a bit ago, when I entered his stall, he almost took off one of my fingers!"

Sam interrupted, incredulous, "Oi still can’t believe that someone actually managed to hang that paintin’ over that wild ‘orse o’ miss Bennie’s!"

"That’s not all," Fastred continued, "Just wait till you see how it was hung. Took a lot of guts to do what they did."

"Or a lot of stupidity!" Sam muttered under his breath.

Sam’s Gaffer spoke up. "Strikes me as odd ‘ow that portrait keeps turnin’ up everywhere. Seems loike ‘e wants to see just how many places ‘e can nip the paintin’ to before ‘e gets caught."

Or, perhaps he, or they, figured us all for fools and assumed they wouldn’t be caught at all. I thought to myself as we continued up Willow Springs Lane to our destination.

"Well here we are! Fastred announced. (As if none of us had ever set foot on Bennie’s property before and had no idea where we were.) Then as we neared the stable he called out, self-importantly, "Bennie! I’ve brought help as promised."

"Well, it’s about time!" Bennie’s voice could be heard from inside the building. "It took you long enough!"

She came striding out of the barn, looking as if she would lambast poor Fastred for being a sluggard. Then quite suddenly, her tone changed. Her hands went instinctively to her head as she did her best to pull straw out of her dark curls. (Or at least what could be seen of her hair beneath her battered work hat.)

"Frodo! I wasn’t expecting you to be here!"She took me by the arm, pouting prettily, and led us to the stable.

"I was setting the ponies out to pasture and really didn’t notice it until I got to this end of the stable." Bennie went on to explain. It was obvious she was irrate, yet there was a tinge of worry in her voice. "I got all the other ponies outside but I haven’t been able to get Naur to cooperate."

"As if that’s unusual..." Fastred remarked rather sarcastically.

Bennie was shaking her head, concern showing openly on her pretty features. " No, this is different. While it’s true that ponies and horses can be easily spooked by unfamiliar objects, this doesn’t seem to be the case...No, this is different...somehow..." she said again. "Something is definitely not right with Naur."

One by one, we followed her down the barn aisle and as we neared Naur’s stall, she said, "Just look!" and pointed up, although she didn’t have to, you’d have had to be blind to have missed the portrait.

"‘Ow the blazes...?" Sam’s words trailed off in amazement.

My portrait stared down at us, hanging just high enough from the overhead bean as to be out of reach. But that wasn’t all. A bridle was draped on it artistically, with the reins tied rather prettily in a bow, and a pair of leather riding gloves were placed just ‘so’, looking as if my image was wearing them as a pair of ear muffs. And, just as Bennie had said, Naur was still in his stall, but oddly enough, he wasn’t making quite the ruckus I expected. There was none of the familiar snorting and pawing. And, although the stallion usually greeted people with both ears pinned back, today, only one ear was pinned back, the other flopped rather loosely to the side giving him a somewhat cockeyed appearance. Though his eyes rolled till the whites showed, the normal malice in them was absent. It seemed, instead, as if he was having difficulty in fixing his gaze on us. All the while, he swayed almost imperceptibly on his feet.

"What’s the matter with him?" I asked, more to myself, not really expecting an answer.

"When I tried to get him to come out of his stall," Bennie said, "he wouldn’t budge. It was almost... as if he couldn’t, as if he was afraid he’d fall if he lifted a foot."

As if to offer proof, Naur made as if to move closer to the sound of our voices and wobbled unsteadily. Bennie opened the stall gate and went to him, speaking softly in the Elven phrases she had been taught to calm him. I found myself holding my breath, sincerely hoping that whatever was the matter with him, he wouldn’t turn on his mistress. As she stood at his neck talking in reassuring tones, he swung his head around to her, in a jerky, unbalanced movement.

Apparently, Sam had been harboring some of my fear for he shouted, "Look out, Miss Bennie!" Too late. I was sure Bennie was about to be bitten on the face.

"Oh my word!" Fastred said in disgust, for Naur wasn’t biting Bennie. He was licking her! Big, sloppy, wet kisses, all over her face.

"Ugh!" Bennie sputtered as she managed to back away. "His breath is terrible! Even more than usual..."

Fastred moved quickly to offer her his handkerchief, but she refused it and took the one the Gaffer offered instead. Just then, was heard a tremendous belch. We looked at each other and then at Naur. He nickered at us and slowly went down and back onto his haunches, sitting much like a dog, before flopping over on his side in the straw and began snoring gently.

Bennie sank to her knees at the stallion’s side, cradling his head in her lap and lamenting, "What’s wrong with him?"

"If Oi didn’t know better," came the Gaffer’s amused voice. "Oi’d say that little ‘orse is drunk."

"Drunk?" I echoed his last word.

"Miss Bennie, are you in here?" All heads turned in the direction of the door at the far end of the stable. At that very moment, Bennie’s new stable hand, Rory Goodbody, the youngest son of the local farrier, had come seeking his employer. He was toting what looked like a wooden bucket, complete with a ladle. From the way he handled it I assumed it was empty.

"I’m here, Rory. What do you need?" Bennie called out, refusing to abandon her spot beside Naur.

Rory said nothing to the four gentlehobbits who stood outside Naur’s stall. He did however, bestow a curious, semi-suspicious glance upon us. I nodded and smiled politely at the lad. He nodded back, yet remained silent, merely stretching on tiptoe to peek over the top of the stall door in order to get a better glimpse of his mistress and her prostrate pony.

"What happened? What’s wrong with Naur, Miss?"

Bennie frowned up at the lad. "According to Mr. Gamgee, Naur is drunk."

The stableboy’s eyes grew as large as saucers. Then he blubbered, "Oi ‘ad nothin’ to do with it, Miss! I swear!"

Bennie stood and let herself out of the stall. "I never said you did, Rory." She nodded at the objects he was holding. "What have you there?"

Rory swiped at his using his shirt sleeve. "Oi was on my way to the pasture to check on the ponies when Oi nearly tripped over this." He brandished the bucket and ladle.

Sam took the empty bucket from him and sniffed it. "Cider." He said, a grim look on his face. "An’ not the sweet kind, either. Ponies an’ ‘orses love apples. Oi think whoever did this knew that, too. Oi’m not surprised that they used this stuff to make friends with Naur so they could move around in ‘is stall."

"You may want to check your cellars, I’ll warrant you might find one of your kegs of cider emptied." Fastred told Bennie with a smirk.

Bennie’s features were dark with anger. "Whoever did this.....Ohhhh!" she kicked at the stall door, heedless of her toes. "When I catch them, I’ll...I’ll...."

Naur raised his head and whinnied, then with another loud belch, laid his head down once more, closed his eyes and began to snore softly. I peered over the stall door.

"Well, he’ll be having sweet dreams for a while, I would imagine."

Bennie gave me a look that indicated she was not amused by my comment. "What am I going to do now? How does one sober up a drunken pony?"

"Maybe you could give him something that would make him sick enough to throw up, that might get it out of his system a little quicker." Fastred suggested.

"You idiot," Bennie snapped, obviously not concerned with courtesies at the moment. "horses and ponies can’t vomit. So, I’m afraid your idea won’t work."

" Oi think the only thing ye can do fer the time bein’ is t’ let ‘im sleep it off." Said the Gaffer. "O’d worry more about how to cure the ‘angover that comes after." He chuckled, then with a nod he indicated the forgotten painting, "In the meantime, Oi suggest we use this opportunity to get that portrait down."

So it was that Sam and I got the job of climbing up and standing on the stall partitions to undo the rigging while the Gaffer and Fastred made sure the painting didn’t fall on Bennie or the snoozing stallion. It wasn’t an easy job. More than ever, I was sure that whoever had pulled this off had an accomplice. Even with Naur inebriated, it would have taken at least two people to hoist the painting into position, then decorate it in an appropriately suitable equestrian theme. (Then, there was the ‘procurement’ of the cider beforehand...that must have taken some skillful pilfering.)

Thankfully, Naur slept through the entire business of putting his stall to right again, only hiccuping every so often to let us know he was still alive.

"We’ll that was easy enough." Said Fastred, as he brushed himself off.

"Easy fer ‘im t’ say." Sam muttered to me. "Oi’d ‘ave paid good money to see ‘is sorry backside up there on the wall tryin’ t’ untie those ropes..."

It was quickly decided that the portrait should be returned to Daffodil’s gallery as soon as possible. Bennie offered the use of one of her pony carts to deliver the painting and promptly dispatched Rory to fetch a sober pony and bring round the cart. I almost groaned when the stableboy returned with a dainty looking cart complete with a canopy trimmed with tassels and fringe.

"A simple cart would have been fine." I reasoned.

"It looks like it might rain." Rory pointed out. And indeed, the dark clouds of earlier didn’t look any less threatening now. "The cart might be too fancy, but it’s the only one that’s ready with tarp or can-o-pee to protect the paintin’." There was no disputing the stableboy’s wisdom.

And as Bennie also pointed out, the cart had curtains to hide the painting and the occupants from busy bodies and gossipers, not to mention pranksters. So, soon the portrait was safely ensconced in the back of the cart with the curtains drawn round to protect it from the possibility of foul weather and prying eyes.

That’s when Fastred proclaimed. "I’m certainly getting hungry. And a drink wouldn’t hurt, either."

He turned his famous charm upon Bennie. She responded by rolling her eyes but when Rory selflessly volunteered to stand guard over the cart and contents she reasoned, "I think it may be safe enough for us to sit a moment and sup before you fellows take the painting back to Daffodil..Although, I really don’t mind if the portrait stays here with me, Frodo."

I sucked in my breath, then shook my head, ‘no.’ "I really believe that it ought to be returned to Daffodil. She’s been worried sick over this entire affair."

"Oh, all right, Frodo, if you insist." And she gave me a fetching smile before wrapping her arm about mine as we headed inside.

It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes later that Rory came bursting into Bennie’s hole, panting, "Miss Bennie! Mister Frodo! Someone is stealin’ the cart!"

Sure enough, as we in mass for the door, the cart could be seen swiftly vanishing down the lane in the direction of Hobbiton. Thanks to the drawn curtains it was impossible to tell who was driving it away!

Fastred took it upon himself to chastise Rory. "How could you let someone get to the cart? You were supposed to be guarding it!"

Rory trembled as he replied. From the look on his face, he fully expected Fastred to strike him for his mistake. "Oi’m sorry, truly Oi am! Please, Miss Bennie! Don’t be angry and please don’t fire me!"

"You’re not going to get fired, Rory. And no one is going to hurt you." At this she gave Fastred a steely look. "Just tell us what happened."

"Oi only wanted to make sure that Naur was doin’ allright! Oi didn’t figure it would ‘urt to sneak a peek at ‘im just for a minute or two. Oi wasn’t gone ‘ardly any time at all! Just as Oi was comin’ round the corner of the barn Oi saw the cart start to drive off. Oi couldn’t see who was in it, though, just heard ‘im say, "Gid ‘up, there!"

For a moment or two all we could do was look at one another helplessly. My portrait had been abducted again!