[ less like Mr. Bilbo, and more alike to Mr. Frodo, then, Sam amends himself. he suddenly finds himself wondering about Faramir, who sounds so unlike the Man talking to him now. yet despite their differences, it's clear that Boromir is fond of his brother.

suddenly, Sam realises that he is quite forgetting the task they came to do, and hastily applies himself to picking up more wood while he turns these things over in his mind. ]

He sounds like a fine Man, sir; at least, as far as this hobbit can reckon it. [ the observation is put forward gently, yet as plain as hobbit-talk can be. Sam is shrewd enough to notice the shadow on Boromir, even if he's not certain of the cause, but he can make a stab at a guess. Boromir must miss his brother and his home, much the same as Sam dearly misses the Shire and his old Gaffer, in the quiet moments. ] Now me, I can't lay no such grand claims to my own family, we Gamgees not being gentlehobbits and all, but my old Gaffer may well be the finest gardener in Hobbiton, or the Shire for that matter. Taught me everything I know about plants and growing things, he did.