Mr. Horgo is a queer sort, yet, for all his eccentricities, he is not a bad fellow. This Marisher seems to be settling into the Southfarthing well enough, although the folk at the Oak and Bell tell me that he is yet to patron the inn. I do hope he does, for already there is talk around Barleywick about the habits of Mr. Harfield. To see and speak with him, however, seems to dispel such hearsay.
I realise now that Mr. Horgo's uncle was none other than Borgo Harfield - whom I once named Harfungus (a name, I fear, which stuck). His book, 'Mushrooms of the Marish', is one that can be found in almost every home. The definitive dictionary of fungi varieties! Old Harfungus Borgo seems to have done rather well for himself, as he passed on a considerable inheritance to his nephew - Horgo.
Boots I could forgive, perhaps. It is an ancient (and, I believed, lost) custom in the Eastfarthing, particularly in the Marish. But Mr. Horgo spoke of boating on the Brandywine as a hobby. How preposterous! A most queer and dangerous activity - one that I implore he keeps to himself. Even before the incident with Mr. & Mrs. Drogo Baggins, people in these parts have had no involvement in such perversities.
But, in truth, I enjoy his company. Whilst some of his peculiarities are unsettling, Mr. Horgo's knowledge of the Dwarves is simply intriguing. He has joined me for tea already, and I have returned the visit. Whilst ginger beer is not tea, he is a cordial host nonetheless. Tomorrow evening I have invited him to join me in the library.
