A song by Kester Proudfoot. Best played quick with fiddle and penny whistle.
Falco Proudfoot of the Shire
had a bounder for a sire
and his singing was more cheerful
even than a toasty fire.
In a happy hobbit hole
or under shady Mirkwood bole
he could give an ear an earful
to a Woodman or a troll.
Falco’s fiddle broke its string
but he wasn’t shy to sing,
whether in a tavern beerful
or the wood where shadows cling.
And we know a hobbit’s song
makes his tall friends sing along
and even wood-elf Caranthir pull
merry jigs to join the throng!
Now a homely wolf named Draug
with a voice just like a frog
and a belly that was near-full
heard the hobbit in the fog.
“Singing’s fine,” said ugly Draug,
“when it’s wolves out in the fog,
and when manly men are tearful
even by a burning log.
“But a hobbit-voice that’s brave
or that’s laughing like a knave
makes a wolf a little fearful
when he’s far from mother’s cave.”
Then old Draugurth gave the chase
but the hobbit left no trace.
Though that Wolf-king smelt a snoutful
happy Falco sang apace!
Well, the folk of Woodmen Hall
heard Wolf-king Draugurth’s call
and they set out grim and wrathful
under Mirkwood, dark and tall.
Falco strode to battle’s din
standing under elf and men,
and although the smell was dreadful
braved wolf jaws to save his friends.
In a rainy Mirkwood glade
the Wolf-king’s plans were all put paid.
Though Falco was half a mouthful
Draugurth died on elven blade!
So here’s the lesson we’ll sing loud
to any wolf who won’t be cowed:
Never close your teeth around
a hobbit lad whose feet are proud!