THE LORD OF THE RINGSTHE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RINGBOOK ONEChapter 1A Long-Expected PartyWhen Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly becelebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of specialmagnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been thewonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkabledisappearance and unexpected return. The riches he had brought backfrom his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularlybelieved, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag Endwas full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And if that was not enoughfor fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at. Time woreon, but it seemed to have little effect on Mr. Baggins. At ninety hewas much the same as at fifty. At ninety-nine they began to call himwell-preserved; but unchanged would have been nearer the mark. Therewere some that shook their heads and thought this was too much of agood thing; it seemed unfair that anyone should possess (apparently)perpetual youth as well as (reputedly) inexhaustible wealth."It will have to be paid for," they said. "It isn"t natural,and trouble will come of it!"But so far trouble had not come; and as Mr. Baggins wasgenerous with his money, most people were willing to forgive him hisoddities and his good fortune. He remained on visiting terms with hisrelatives (except, of course, the Sackville-Bagginses), and he hadmany devoted admirers among the hobbits of poor and unimportantfamilies. But he had no close friends, until some of his youngercousins began to grow up.The eldest of these, and Bilbo"s favourite, was young FrodoBaggins. When Bilbo was ninety-nine he adopted Frodo as his heir, andbrought him to live at Bag End; and the hopes of the Sackville-Bagginses were finally dashed. Bilbo and Frodo happened to have thesame birthday, September 22nd. "You had better come and live here,Frodo my lad," said Bilbo one day; "and then we can celebrate ourbirthday-parties comfortably together." At that time Frodo was stillin his tweens, as the hobbits called the irresponsible twentiesbetween childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.Twelve more years passed. Each year the Bagginses had givenvery lively combined birthday-parties at Bag End; but now it wasunderstood that something quite exceptional was being planned forthat autumn. Bilbo was going to be eleventy-one, 111, a rathercurious number, and a very respectable age for a hobbit (the Old Tookhimself had only reached 130); and Frodo was going to be thirty-three, 33, an important number: the date of his "coming of age".Tongues began to wag in Hobbiton and Bywater; and rumour ofthe coming event travelled all over the Shire. The history andcharacter of Mr. Bilbo Baggins became once again the chief topic ofconversation; and the older folk suddenly found their reminiscencesin welcome demand.No one had a more attentive audience than old Ham Gamgee,commonly known as the Gaffer. He held forth at The Ivy Bush, a smallinn on the Bywater road; and he spoke with some authority, for he hadtended the garden at Bag End for forty years, and had helped oldHolman in the same job before that. Now that he was himself growingold and stiff in the joints, the job was mainly carried on by hisyoungest son, Sam Gamgee. Both father and son were on very friendlyterms with Bilbo and Frodo. They lived on the Hill itself, in Number3 Bagshot Row just below Bag End."A very nice well-spoken gentlehobbit is Mr. Bilbo, as I"vealways said," the Gaffer declared. With perfect truth: for Bilbo wasvery polite to him, calling him "Master Hamfast", and consulting himconstantly upon the growing of vegetables — in the matter of "roots",especially potatoes, the Gaffer was recognized as the leadingauthority by all in the neighbourhood (including himself)."But what about this Frodo that lives with him?" asked OldNoakes of Bywater. "Baggins is his name, but he"s more than half aBrandybuck, they say. It beats me why any Baggins of Hobbiton shouldgo looking for a wife away there in Buckland, where folks are soqueer.""And no wonder they"re queer," put in Daddy Twofoot (theGaffer"s next-door neighbour), "if they live on the wrong side of theBrandywine River, and right agin the Old Forest. That"s a dark badplace, if half the tales be true.""You"re right, Dad!" said the Gaffer. "Not that theBrandybucks of Buckland live in the Old Forest; but they"re a queerbreed, seemingly. They fool about with boats on that big river — andthat isn"t natural. Small wonder that trouble came of it, I say. Butbe that as it may, Mr. Frodo is as nice a young hobbit as you couldwish to meet. Very much like Mr. Bilbo, and in more than looks. Afterall his father was a Baggins. A decent respectable hobbit was Mr.Drogo Baggins; there was never much to tell of him, till he wasdrownded.""Drownded?" said several voices. They had heard this andother darker rumours before, of course; but hobbits have a passionfor family history, and they were ready to hear it again."Well, so they say," said the Gaffer. "You see: Mr. Drogo, hemarried poor Miss Primula Brandybuck. She was our Mr. Bilbo"s firstcousin on the mother"s side (her mother being the youngest of the OldTook"s daughters); and Mr. Drogo was his second cousin. So Mr. Frodois his first and second cousin, once removed either way, as thesaying is, if you follow me. And Mr. Drogo was staying at Brandy Hallwith his father-in-law, old Master Gorbadoc, as he often did afterhis marriage (him being partial to his vittles, and old Gorbadockeeping a mighty generous table); and he went out boating on theBrandywine River; and he and his wife were drownded, and poor Mr.Frodo only a child and all.""I"ve heard they went on the water after dinner in themoonlight," said Old Noakes; "and it was Drogo"s weight as sunk theboat.""And I heard she pushed him in, and he pulled her in afterhim," said Sandyman, the Hobbiton miller."You shouldn"t listen to all you hear, Sandyman," said theGaffer, who did not much like the miller. "There isn"t no call to gotalking of pushing and pulling. Boats are quite tricky enough forthose that sit still without looking further for the cause oftrouble. Anyway: there was this Mr. Frodo left an orphan andstranded, as you might say, among those queer Bucklanders, beingbrought up anyhow in Brandy Hall. A regular warren, by all accounts.Old Master Gorbadoc never had fewer than a couple of hundredrelations in the place. Mr. Bilbo never did a kinder deed than whenhe brought the lad back to live among decent folk."But I reckon it was a nasty shock for those Sackville-Bagginses. They thought they were going to get Bag End, that timewhen he went off and was thought to be dead. And then he comes backand orders them off; and he goes on living and living, and neverlooking a day older, bless him! And suddenly he produces an heir, andhas all the papers made out proper. The Sackville-Bagginses won"tnever see the inside of Bag End now, or it is to be hoped not.""There"s a tidy bit of money tucked away up there, I heartell," said a stranger, a visitor on business from Michel Delving inthe Westfarthing. "All the top of your hill is full of tunnels packedwith chests of gold and silver, and jools, by what I"ve heard.""Then you"ve heard more than I can speak to," answered theGaffer. I know nothing about jools. Mr. Bilbo is free with his money,and there seems no lack of it; but I know of no tunnel-making. I sawMr. Bilbo when he came back, a matter of sixty years ago, when I wasa lad. I"d not long come prentice to old Holman (him being my dad"scousin), but he had me up at Bag End helping him to keep folks fromtrampling and trapessing all over the garden while the sale was on.And in the middle of it all Mr. Bilbo comes up the Hill with a ponyand some mighty big bags and a couple of chests. I don"t doubt theywere mostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts, wherethere be mountains of gold, they say; but there wasn"t enough to filltunnels. But my lad Sam will know more about that. He"s in and out ofBag End. Crazy about stories of the old days he is, and he listens toall Mr. Bilbo"s tales. Mr. Bilbo has learned him his letters —meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will come of it."Elves and Dragons! I says to him. "Cabbages and potatoes arebetter for me and you. Don"t go getting mixed up in the business ofyour betters, or you"ll land in trouble too big for you," I says tohim. And I might say it to others," he added with a look at thestranger and the miller.But the Gaffer did not convince his audience. The legend ofBilbo"s wealth was now too firmly fixed in the minds of the youngergeneration of hobbits."Ah, but he has likely enough been adding to what he broughtat first," argued the miller, voicing common opinion. "He"s oftenaway from home. And look at the outlandish folk that visit him:dwarves coming at night, and that old wandering conjuror, Gandalf,and all. You can say what you like, Gaffer, but Bag End"s a queerplace, and its folk are queerer.""And you can say what you like, about what you know no moreof than you do of boating, Mr. Sandyman," retorted the Gaffer,disliking the miller even more than usual. "If that"s being queer,then we could do with a bit more queerness in these parts. There"ssome not far away that wouldn"t offer a pint of beer to a friend, ifthey lived in a hole with golden walls. But they do things proper atBag End. Our Sam says that everyone"s going to be invited to theparty, and there"s going to be presents, mark you, presents for all —this very month as is."That very month was September, and as fine as you could ask.A day or two later a rumour (probably started by the knowledgeableSam) was spread about that there were going to be fireworks —fireworks, what is more, such as had not been seen in the Shire fornigh on a century, not indeed since the Old Took died.Days passed and The Day drew nearer. An odd-looking waggonladen with odd-looking packages rolled into Hobbiton one evening andtoiled up the Hill to Bag End. The startled hobbits peered out oflamplit doors to gape at it. It was driven by outlandish folk,singing strange songs: dwarves with long beards and deep hoods. A fewof them remained at Bag End. At the end of the second week inSeptember a cart came in through Bywater from the direction of theBrandywine Bridge in broad daylight. An old man was driving it allalone. He wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, and asilver scarf. He had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuckout beyond the brim of his hat. Small hobbit-children ran after thecart all through Hobbiton and right up the hill. It had a cargo offireworks, as they rightly guessed. At Bilbo"s front door the old manbegan to unload: there were great bundles of fireworks of all sortsand shapes, each labelled with a large red G and the elf-rune, .That was Gandalf"s mark, of course, and the old man wasGandalf the Wizard, whose fame in the Shire was due mainly to hisskill with fires, smokes, and lights. His real business was far moredifficult and dangerous, but the Shire-folk knew nothing about it. Tothem he was just one of the "attractions" at the Party. Hence theexcitement of the hobbit-children. "G for Grand!" they shouted, andthe old man smiled. They knew him by sight, though he only appearedin Hobbiton occasionally and never stopped long; but neither they norany but the oldest of their elders had seen one of his fireworkdisplays — they now belonged to the legendary past.When the old man, helped by Bilbo and some dwarves, hadfinished unloading. Bilbo gave a few pennies away; but not a singlesquib or cracker was forthcoming, to the disappointment of theonlookers."Run away now!" said Gandalf. "You will get plenty when thetime comes." Then he disappeared inside with Bilbo, and the door wasshut. The young hobbits stared at the door in vain for a while, andthen made off, feeling that the day of the party would never come.Inside Bag End, Bilbo and Gandalf were sitting at the openwindow of a small room looking out west on to the garden. The lateafternoon was bright and peaceful. The flowers glowed red and golden:snap-dragons and sun-flowers, and nasturtiums trailing all over theturf walls and peeping in at the round windows."How bright your garden looks!" said Gandalf."Yes," said Bilbo. "I am very fond indeed of it, and of allthe dear old Shire; but I think I need a holiday.""You mean to go on with your plan then?""I do. I made up my mind months ago, and I haven"t changedit.""Very well. It is no good saying any more. Stick to yourplan — your whole plan, mind — and I hope it will turn out for thebest, for you, and for all of us.""I hope so. Anyway I mean to enjoy myself on Thursday, andhave my little joke.""Who will laugh, I wonder?" said Gandalf, shaking his head."We shall see," said Bilbo.The next day more carts rolled up the Hill, and still morecarts. There might have been some grumbling about "dealing locally",but that very week orders began to pour out of Bag End for every kindof provision, commodity, or luxury that could be obtained in Hobbitonor Bywater or anywhere in the neighbourhood. People becameenthusiastic; and they began to tick off the days on the calendar;and they watched eagerly for the postman, hoping for invitations.Before long the invitations began pouring out, and theHobbiton post-office was blocked, and the Bywater post-office wassnowed under, and voluntary assistant postmen were called for. Therewas a constant stream of them going up the Hill, carrying hundreds ofpolite variations on Thank you, I shall certainly come.A notice appeared on the gate at Bag End: NO ADMITTANCEEXCEPT ON PARTY BUSINESS. Even those who had, or pretended to haveParty Business were seldom allowed inside. Bilbo was busy: writinginvitations, ticking off answers, packing up presents, and makingsome private preparations of his own. From the time of Gandalf"sarrival he remained hidden from view.One morning the hobbits woke to find the large field, southof Bilbo"s front door, covered with ropes and poles for tents andpavilions. A special entrance was cut into the bank leading to theroad, and wide steps and a large white gate were built there. Thethree hobbit-families of Bagshot Row, adjoining the field, wereintensely interested and generally envied. Old Gaffer Gamgee stoppedeven pretending to work in his garden.The tents began to go up. There was a specially largepavilion, so big that the tree that grew in the field was rightinside it, and stood proudly near one end, at the head of the chieftable. Lanterns were hung on all its branches. More promising still(to the hobbits" mind): an enormous open-air kitchen was erected inthe north corner of the field. A draught of cooks, from every inn andeating-house for miles around, arrived to supplement the dwarves andother odd folk that were quartered at Bag End. Excitement rose to itsheight.Then the weather clouded over. That was on Wednesday the eveof the Party. Anxiety was intense. Then Thursday, September the 22nd,actually dawned. The sun got up, the clouds vanished, flags wereunfurled and the fun began.Bilbo Baggins called it a party, but it was really a varietyof entertainments rolled into one. Practically everybody living nearwas invited. A very few were overlooked by accident, but as theyturned up all the same, that did not matter. Many people from otherparts of the Shire were also asked; and there were even a few fromoutside the borders. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the newwhite gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry — thelatter were those who went out again by a back way and came in againby the gate. Hobbits give presents to other people on their ownbirthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly ason this occasion; but it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbitonand Bywater every day in the year it was somebody"s birthday, so thatevery hobbit in those parts had a fair chance of at least one presentat least once a week. But they never got tired of them.On this occasion the presents were unusually good. The hobbit-children were so excited that for a while they almost forgot abouteating. There were toys the like of which they had never seen before,all beautiful and some obviously magical. Many of them had indeedbeen ordered a year before, and had come all the way from theMountain and from Dale, and were of real dwarf-make.When every guest had been welcomed and was finally inside thegate, there were songs, dances, music, games, and, of course, foodand drink. There were three official meals: lunch, tea, and dinner(or supper). But lunch and tea were marked chiefly by the fact thatat those times all the guests were sitting down and eating together.At other times there were merely lots of people eating and drinking —continuously from elevenses until six-thirty, when the fireworksstarted.The fireworks were by Gandalf: they were not only brought byhim, but designed and made by him; and the special effects, setpieces, and flights of rockets were let off by him. But there wasalso a generous distribution of squibs, crackers, backarappers,sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers andthunder-claps. They were all superb. The art of Gandalf improved withage.There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birdssinging with sweet voices. There were green trees with trunks of darksmoke: their leaves opened like a whole spring unfolding in a moment,and their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon theastonished hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before theytouched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterfliesthat flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of colouredfires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or aphalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower ofyellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenlyinto the air with a yell like an embattled army, and came down againinto the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes. And there wasalso one last surprise, in honour of Bilbo, and it startled thehobbits exceedingly, as Gandalf intended. The lights went out. Agreat smoke went up. It shaped itself like a mountain seen in thedistance, and began to glow at the summit. It spouted green andscarlet flames. Out flew a red-golden dragon — not life-size, butterribly life-like: fire came from his jaws, his eyes glared down;there was a roar, and he whizzed three times over the heads of thecrowd. They all ducked, and many fell flat on their faces. The dragonpassed like an express train, turned a somersault, and burst overBywater with a deafening explosion."That is the signal for supper!" said Bilbo. The pain andalarm vanished at once, and the prostrate hobbits leaped to theirfeet. There was a splendid supper for everyone; for everyone, thatis, except those invited to the special family dinner-party. This washeld in the great pavilion with the tree. The invitations werelimited to twelve dozen (a number also called by the hobbits oneGross, though the word was not considered proper to use of people);and the guests were selected from all the families to which Bilbo andFrodo were related, with the addition of a few special unrelatedfriends (such as Gandalf). Many young hobbits were included, andpresent by parental permission; for hobbits were easy-going withtheir children in the matter of sitting up late, especially whenthere was a chance of getting them a free meal. Bringing up younghobbits took a lot of provender.There were many Bagginses and Boffins, and also many Tooksand Brandybucks; there were various Grubbs (relations of BilboBaggins" grandmother), and various Chubbs (connexions of his Tookgrandfather); and a selection of Burrowses, Bolgers, Bracegirdles,Brockhouses, Goodbodies, Hornblowers and Proudfoots. Some of thesewere only very distantly connected with Bilbo, and some of them hadhardly ever been in Hobbiton before, as they lived in remote cornersof the Shire. The Sackville-Bagginses were not forgotten. Otho andhis wife Lobelia were present. They disliked Bilbo and detestedFrodo, but so magnificent was the invitation card, written in goldenink, that they had felt it was impossible to refuse. Besides, theircousin, Bilbo, had been specializing in food for many years and histable had a high reputation.All the one hundred and forty-four guests expected a pleasantfeast; though they rather dreaded the after-dinner speech of theirhost (an inevitable item). He was liable to drag in bits of what hecalled poetry; and sometimes, after a glass or two, would allude tothe absurd adventures of his mysterious journey. The guests were notdisappointed: they had a very pleasant feast, in fact an engrossingentertainment: rich, abundant, varied, and prolonged. The purchase ofprovisions fell almost to nothing throughout the district in theensuing weeks; but as Bilbo"s catering had depleted the stocks ofmost stores, cellars and warehouses for miles around, that did notmatter much.After the feast (more or less) came the Speech. Most of thecompany were, however, now in a tolerant mood, at that delightfulstage which they called "filling up the corners". They were sippingtheir favourite drinks, and nibbling at their favourite dainties, andtheir fears were forgotten. They were prepared to listen to anything,and to cheer at every full stop.My dear People, began Bilbo, rising in his place. "Hear!Hear! Hear!" they shouted, and kept on repeating it in chorus,seeming reluctant to follow their own advice. Bilbo left his placeand went and stood on a chair under the illuminated tree. The lightof the lanterns fell on his beaming face; the golden buttons shone onhis embroidered silk waistcoat. They could all see him standing,waving one hand in the air, the other was in his trouser-pocket.My dear Bagginses and Boffins, he began again; and my dearTooks and Brandybucks, and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burrowses, andHornblowers, and Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses andProudfoots. "ProudFEET!" shouted an elderly hobbit from the back ofthe pavilion. His name, of course, was Proudfoot, and well merited;his feet were large, exceptionally furry, and both were on the table.Proudfoots, repeated Bilbo. Also my good Sackville-Bagginsesthat I welcome back at last to Bag End. Today is my one hundred andeleventh birthday: I am eleventy-one today! "Hurray! Hurray! ManyHappy Returns!" they shouted, and they hammered joyously on thetables. Bilbo was doing splendidly. This was the sort of stuff theyliked: short and obvious.I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am.Deafening cheers. Cries of Yes (and No). Noises of trumpets andhorns, pipes and flutes, and other musical instruments. There were,as has been said, many young hobbits present. Hundreds of musicalcrackers had been pulled. Most of them bore the mark DALE on them;which did not convey much to most of the hobbits, but they all agreedthey were marvellous crackers. They contained instruments, small, butof perfect make and enchanting tones. Indeed, in one corner some ofthe young Tooks and Brandybucks, supposing Uncle Bilbo to havefinished (since he had plainly said all that was necessary), now gotup an impromptu orchestra, and began a merry dance-tune. MasterEverard Took and Miss Melilot Brandybuck got on a table and withbells in their hands began to dance the Springle-ring: a prettydance, but rather vigorous.But Bilbo had not finished. Seizing a horn from a youngsternear by, he blew three loud hoots. The noise subsided. I shall notkeep you long, he cried. Cheers from all the assembly. I have calledyou all together for a Purpose. Something in the way that he saidthis made an impression. There was almost silence, and one or two ofthe Tooks pricked up their ears.Indeed, for Three Purposes! First of all, to tell you that Iam immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is tooshort a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits.Tremendous outburst of approval.I don"t know half of you half as well as I should like; and Ilike less than half of you half as well as you deserve. This wasunexpected and rather difficult. There was some scattered clapping,but most of them were trying to work it out and see if it came to acompliment.Secondly, to celebrate my birthday. Cheers again. I shouldsay: OUR birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heirand nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today.Some perfunctory clapping by the elders; and some loud shoutsof "Frodo! Frodo! Jolly old Frodo," from the juniors. The Sackville-Bagginses scowled, and wondered what was meant by "coming into hisinheritance".Together we score one hundred and forty-four. Your numberswere chosen to fit this remarkable total: One Gross, if I may use theexpression. No cheers. This was ridiculous. Many of his guests, andespecially the Sackville-Bagginses, were insulted, feeling sure theyhad only been asked to fill up the required number, like goods in apackage. "One Gross, indeed! Vulgar expression."It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history,the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake;though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on thatoccasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem soimportant. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a badcold at the time, I remember, and could only say "thag you verybuch". I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for comingto my little party. Obstinate silence. They all feared that a song orsome poetry was now imminent; and they were getting bored. Whycouldn"t he stop talking and let them drink his health? But Bilbo didnot sing or recite. He paused for a moment.Thirdly and finally, he said, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT.He spoke this last word so loudly and suddenly that everyone sat upwho still could. I regret to announce that — though, as I said,eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you — thisis the END. I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOOD-BYE!He stepped down and vanished. There was a blinding flash oflight, and the guests all blinked. When they opened their eyes Bilbowas nowhere to be seen. One hundred and forty-four flabbergastedhobbits sat back speechless. Old Odo Proudfoot removed his feet fromthe table and stamped. Then there was a dead silence, until suddenly,after several deep breaths, every Baggins, Boffin, Took, Brandybuck,Grubb, Chubb, Burrows, Bolger, Bracegirdle, Brockhouse, Goodbody,Hornblower, and Proudfoot began to talk at once.It was generally agreed that the joke was in very bad taste,and more food and drink were needed to cure the guests of shock andannoyance. "He"s mad. I always said so," was probably the mostpopular comment. Even the Tooks (with a few exceptions) thoughtBilbo"s behaviour was absurd. For the moment most of them took it forgranted that his disappearance was nothing more than a ridiculousprank.But old Rory Brandybuck was not so sure. Neither age nor anenormous dinner had clouded his wits, and he said to his daughter-in-law, Esmeralda: "There"s something fishy in this, my dear! I believethat mad Baggins is off again. Silly old fool. But why worry? Hehasn"t taken the vittles with him." He called loudly to Frodo to sendthe wine round again.Frodo was the only one present who had said nothing. For sometime he had sat silent beside Bilbo"s empty chair, and ignored allremarks and questions. He had enjoyed the joke, of course, eventhough he had been in the know. He had difficulty in keeping fromlaughter at the indignant surprise of the guests. But at the sametime he felt deeply troubled: he realized suddenly that he loved theold hobbit dearly. Most of the guests went on eating and drinking anddiscussing Bilbo Baggins" oddities, past and present; but theSackville-Bagginses had already departed in wrath. Frodo did not wantto have any more to do with the party. He gave orders for more wineto be served; then he got up and drained his own glass silently tothe health of Bilbo, and slipped out of the pavilion.As for Bilbo Baggins, even while he was making his speech, hehad been fingering the golden ring in his pocket: his magic ring thathe had kept secret for so many years. As he stepped down he slippedit on his finger, and he was never seen by any hobbit in Hobbitonagain.He walked briskly back to his hole, and stood for a momentlistening with a smile to the din in the pavilion and to the soundsof merrymaking in other parts of the field. Then he went in. He tookoff his party clothes, folded up and wrapped in tissue-paper hisembroidered silk waistcoat, and put it away. Then he put on quicklysome old untidy garments, and fastened round his waist a worn leatherbelt. On it he hung a short sword in a battered black-leatherscabbard. From a locked drawer, smelling of moth-balls, he took outan old cloak and hood. They had been locked up as if they were veryprecious, but they were so patched and weatherstained that theiroriginal colour could hardly be guessed: it might have been darkgreen. They were rather too large for him. He then went into hisstudy, and from a large strong-box took out a bundle wrapped in oldcloths, and a leather-bound manuscript; and also a large bulkyenvelope. The book and bundle he stuffed into the top of a heavy bagthat was standing there, already nearly full. Into the envelope heslipped his golden ring, and its fine chain, and then sealed it, andaddressed it to Frodo. At first he put it on the mantelpiece, butsuddenly he removed it and stuck it in his pocket. At that moment thedoor opened and Gandalf came quickly in."Hullo!" said Bilbo. 'I wondered if you would turn up."'I am glad to find you visible," replied the wizard, sittingdown in a chair. 'I wanted to catch you and have a few final words. Isuppose you feel that everything has gone off splendidly andaccording to plan?""Yes, I do," said Bilbo. "Though that flash was surprising:it quite startled me, let alone the others. A little addition of yourown, I suppose?""It was. You have wisely kept that ring secret all theseyears, and it seemed to me necessary to give your guests somethingelse that would seem to explain your sudden vanishment.""And would spoil my joke. You are an interfering oldbusybody," laughed Bilbo, "but I expect you know best, as usual.""I do — when I know anything. But I don"t feel too sure aboutthis whole affair. It has now come to the final point. You have hadyour joke, and alarmed or offended most of your relations, and giventhe whole Shire something to talk about for nine days, or ninety-ninemore likely. Are you going any further?""Yes, I am. I feel I need a holiday, a very long holiday, asI have told you before. Probably a permanent holiday: I don"t expectI shall return. In fact, I don"t mean to, and I have made allarrangements.'I am old, Gandalf. I don"t look it, but I am beginning tofeel it in my heart of hearts. Well-preserved indeed!" hesnorted. "Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what Imean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. Thatcan"t be right. I need a change, or something."Gandalf looked curiously and closely at him. "No, it does notseem right," he said thoughtfully. "No, after all I believe your planis probably the best.""Well, I"ve made up my mind, anyway. I want to see mountainsagain, Gandalf — mountains; and then find somewhere where I can rest.In peace and quiet, without a lot of relatives prying around, and astring of confounded visitors hanging on the bell. I might findsomewhere where I can finish my book. I have thought of a nice endingfor it: and he lived happily ever after to the end of his days."Gandalf laughed. "I hope he will. But nobody will read thebook, however it ends.""Oh, they may, in years to come. Frodo has read some already,as far as it has gone. You"ll keep an eye on Frodo, won"t you?""Yes, I will — two eyes, as often as I can spare them.""He would come with me, of course, if I asked him. In fact heoffered to once, just before the party. But he does not really wantto, yet. I want to see the wild country again before I die, and theMountains; but he is still in love with the Shire, with woods andfields and little rivers. He ought to be comfortable here. I amleaving everything to him, of course, except a few oddments. I hopehe will be happy, when he gets used to being on his own. It"s time hewas his own master now.""Everything?" said Gandalf. "The ring as well? You agreed tothat, you remember.""Well, er, yes, I suppose so," stammered Bilbo."Where is it?""In an envelope, if you must know," said Bilboimpatiently. "There on the mantelpiece. Well, no! Here it is in mypocket!" He hesitated. "Isn"t that odd now?" he said softly tohimself. "Yet after all, why not? Why shouldn"t it stay there?"Gandalf looked again very hard at Bilbo, and there was agleam in his eyes. "I think, Bilbo," he said quietly, "I should leaveit behind. Don"t you want to?""Well yes — and no. Now it comes to it, I don"t like partingwith it at all, I may say. And I don"t really see why I should. Whydo you want me to?" he asked, and a curious change came over hisvoice. It was sharp with suspicion and annoyance. "You are alwaysbadgering me about my ring; but you have never bothered me about theother things that I got on my journey.""No, but I had to badger you," said Gandalf. "I wanted thetruth. It was important. Magic rings are — well, magical; and theyare rare and curious. I was professionally interested in your ring,you may say; and I still am. I should like to know where it is, ifyou go wandering again. Also I think you have had it quite longenough. You won"t need it any more, Bilbo, unless I am quitemistaken."Bilbo flushed, and there was an angry light in his eyes. Hiskindly face grew hard. "Why not?" he cried. "And what business is itof yours, anyway, to know what I do with my own things? It is my own.I found it. It came to me.""Yes, yes," said Gandalf. "But there is no need to get angry.""If I am it is your fault," said Bilbo. "It is mine, I tellyou. My own. My precious. Yes, my precious."The wizard"s face remained grave and attentive, and only aflicker in his deep eyes showed that he was startled and indeedalarmed. "It has been called that before," he said, "but not by you.""But I say it now. And why not? Even if Gollum said the sameonce. It"s not his now, but mine. And I shall keep it, I say."Gandalf stood up. He spoke sternly. "You will be a fool ifyou do, Bilbo," he said. "You make that clearer with every word yousay. It has got far too much hold on you. Let it go! And then you cango yourself, and be free.""I"ll do as I choose and go as I please," said Bilboobstinately."Now, now, my dear hobbit!" said Gandalf. "All your long lifewe have been friends, and you owe me something. Come! Do as youpromised: give it up!""Well, if you want my ring yourself, say so!" criedBilbo. "But you won"t get it. I won"t give my precious away, I tellyou." His hand strayed to the hilt of his small sword.Gandalf"s eyes flashed. "It will be my turn to get angrysoon," he said. "If you say that again, I shall. Then you will seeGandalf the Grey uncloaked." He took a step towards the hobbit, andhe seemed to grow tall and menacing; his shadow filled the littleroom.Bilbo backed away to the wall, breathing hard, his handclutching at his pocket. They stood for a while facing one another,and the air of the room tingled. Gandalf"s eyes remained bent on thehobbit. Slowly his hands relaxed, and he began to tremble."I don"t know what has come over you, Gandalf," he said. "Youhave never been like this before. What is it all about? It is mineisn"t it? I found it, and Gollum would have killed me, if I hadn"tkept it. I"m not a thief, whatever he said.""I have never called you one," Gandalf answered. "And I amnot one either. I am not trying to rob you, but to help you. I wishyou would trust me, as you used." He turned away, and the shadowpassed. He seemed to dwindle again to an old grey man, bent andtroubled.Bilbo drew his hand over his eyes. "I am sorry," hesaid. "But I felt so queer. And yet it would be a relief in a way notto be bothered with it any more. It has been so growing on my mindlately. Sometimes I have felt it was like an eye looking at me. And Iam always wanting to put it on and disappear, don"t you know; orwondering if it is safe, and pulling it out to make sure. I triedlocking it up, but I found I couldn"t rest without it in my pocket. Idon"t know why. And I don"t seem able to make up my mind.""Then trust mine," said Gandalf. "It is quite made up. Goaway and leave it behind. Stop possessing it. Give it to Frodo, and Iwill look after him."Bilbo stood for a moment tense and undecided. Presently hesighed. "All right," he said with an effort. "I will." Then heshrugged his shoulders, and smiled rather ruefully. "After all that"swhat this party business was all about, really: to give away lots ofbirthday presents, and somehow make it easier to give it away at thesame time. It hasn"t made it any easier in the end, but it would be apity to waste all my preparations. It would quite spoil the joke.""Indeed it would take away the only point I ever saw in theaffair," said Gandalf."Very well," said Bilbo, "it goes to Frodo with all therest." He drew a deep breath. "And now I really must be starting, orsomebody else will catch me. I have said good-bye, and I couldn"tbear to do it all over again." He picked up his bag and moved to thedoor."You have still got the ring in your pocket," said the wizard."Well, so I have!" cried Bilbo. "And my will and all theother documents too. You had better take it and deliver it for me.That will be safest.""No, don"t give the ring to me," said Gandalf. "Put it on themantelpiece. It will be safe enough there, till Frodo comes. I shallwait for him."Bilbo took out the envelope, but just as he was about to setit by the clock, his hand jerked back, and the packet fell on thefloor. Before he could pick it up, the wizard stooped and seized itand set it in its place. A spasm of anger passed swiftly over thehobbit"s face again. Suddenly it gave way to a look of relief and alaugh."Well, that"s that," he said. "Now I"m off!"They went out into the hall. Bilbo chose his favourite stickfrom the stand; then he whistled. Three dwarves came out of differentrooms where they had been busy."Is everything ready?" asked Bilbo. "Everything packed andlabelled?""Everything," they answered."Well, let"s start then!" He stepped out of the front-door.It was a fine night, and the black sky was dotted with stars.He looked up, sniffing the air. "What fun! What fun to be off again,off on the Road with dwarves! This is what I have really been longingfor, for years! Good-bye!" he said, looking at his old home andbowing to the door. "Good-bye, Gandalf!""Good-bye, for the present, Bilbo. Take care of yourself! Youare old enough, and perhaps wise enough.""Take care! I don"t care. Don"t you worry about me! I am ashappy now as I have ever been, and that is saying a great deal. Butthe time has come. I am being swept off my feet at last," he added,and then in a low voice, as if to himself, he sang softly in the dark:The Road goes ever on and onDown from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,And I must follow, if I can,Pursuing it with eager feet,Until it joins some larger wayWhere many paths and errands meet.And whither then? I cannot say.He paused, silent for a moment. Then without another word heturned away from the lights and voices in the fields and tents, andfollowed by his three companions went round into his garden, andtrotted down the long sloping path. He jumped over a low place in thehedge at the bottom, and took to the meadows, passing into the nightlike a rustle of wind in the grass.Gandalf remained for a while staring after him into thedarkness. "Goodbye, my dear Bilbo — until our next meeting!" he saidsoftly and went back indoors.Frodo came in soon afterwards, and found him sitting in thedark, deep in thought. "Has he gone?" he asked."Yes," answered Gandalf, "he has gone at last.""I wish — I mean, I hoped until this evening that it was onlya joke," said Frodo. "But I knew in my heart that he really meant togo. He always used to joke about serious things. I wish I had comeback sooner, just to see him off.""I think really he preferred slipping off quietly in theend," said Gandalf. "Don"t be too troubled. He"ll be all right — now.He left a packet for you. There it is!"Frodo took the envelope from the mantelpiece, and glanced atit, but did not open it."You"ll find his will and all the other documents in there, Ithink," said the wizard. "You are the master of Bag End now. Andalso, I fancy, you"ll find a golden ring.""The ring!" exclaimed Frodo. "Has he left me that? I wonderwhy. Still, it may be useful.""It may, and it may not," said Gandalf. "I should not makeuse of it, if I were you. But keep it secret, and keep it safe! Now Iam going to bed."As master of Bag End Frodo felt it his painful duty to saygood-bye to the guests. Rumours of strange events had by now spreadall over the field, but Frodo would only say no doubt everything willbe cleared up in the morning. About midnight carriages came for theimportant folk. One by one they rolled away, filled with full butvery unsatisfied hobbits. Gardeners came by arrangement, and removedin wheel-barrows those that had inadvertently remained behind.Night slowly passed. The sun rose. The hobbits rose ratherlater. Morning went on. People came and began (by orders) to clearaway the pavilions and the tables and the chairs, and the spoons andknives and bottles and plates, and the lanterns, and the floweringshrubs in boxes, and the crumbs and cracker-paper, the forgotten bagsand gloves and handkerchiefs, and the uneaten food (a very smallitem). Then a number of other people came (without orders):Bagginses, and Boffins, and Bolgers, and Tooks, and other guests thatlived or were staying near. By mid-day, when even the best-fed wereout and about again, there was a large crowd at Bag End, uninvitedbut not unexpected.Frodo was waiting on the step, smiling, but looking rathertired and worried. He welcomed all the callers, but he had not muchmore to say than before. His reply to all inquiries was simplythis: "Mr. Bilbo Baggins has gone away; as far as I know, for good."Some of the visitors he invited to come inside, as Bilbo hadleft "messages" for them.Inside in the hall there was piled a large assortment ofpackages and parcels and small articles of furniture. On every itemthere was a label tied. There were several labels of this sort:For ADELARD TOOK, for his VERY OWN, from Bilbo; on anumbrella. Adelard had carried off many unlabelled ones.For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, withlove from Bilbo; on a large waste-paper basket. Dora was Drogo"ssister and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo;she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for morethan half a century.For MILO BURROWS, hoping it will be useful, from B.B; on agold pen and ink-bottle. Milo never answered letters.For ANGELICA"S use, from Uncle Bilbo; on a round convexmirror. She was a young Baggins, and too obviously considered herface shapely.For the collection of HUGO BRACEGIRDLE, from a contributor;on an (empty) book-case. Hugo was a great borrower of books, andworse than usual at returning them.For LOBELIA SACKVILLE-BAGGINS, as a PRESENT; on a case ofsilver spoons. Bilbo believed that she had acquired a good many ofhis spoons, while he was away on his former journey. Lobelia knewthat quite well. When she arrived later in the day, she took thepoint at once, but she also took the spoons.This is only a small selection of the assembled presents.Bilbo"s residence had got rather cluttered up with things in thecourse of his long life. It was a tendency of hobbit-holes to getcluttered up: for which the custom of giving so many birthday-presents was largely responsible. Not, of course, that the birthday-presents were always new; there were one or two old mathoms offorgotten uses that had circulated all around the district; but Bilbohad usually given new presents, and kept those that he received. Theold hole was now being cleared a little.Every one of the various parting gifts had labels, writtenout personally by Bilbo, and several had some point, or some joke.But, of course, most of the things were given where they would bewanted and welcome. The poorer hobbits, and especially those ofBagshot Row, did very well. Old Gaffer Gamgee got two sacks ofpotatoes, a new spade, a woollen waistcoat, and a bottle of ointmentfor creaking joints. Old Rory Brandybuck, in return for muchhospitality, got a dozen bottles of Old Winyards: a strong red winefrom the Southfarthing, and now quite mature, as it had been laiddown by Bilbo"s father. Rory quite forgave Bilbo, and voted him acapital fellow after the first bottle.There was plenty of everything left for Frodo. And, ofcourse, all the chief treasures, as well as the books, pictures, andmore than enough furniture, were left in his possession. There was,however, no sign nor mention of money or jewellery: not a penny-pieceor a glass bead was given away.Frodo had a very trying time that afternoon. A false rumourthat the whole household was being distributed free spread likewildfire; and before long the place was packed with people who had nobusiness there, but could not be kept out. Labels got torn off andmixed, and quarrels broke out. Some people tried to do swaps anddeals in the hall; and others tried to make off with minor items notaddressed to them, or with anything that seemed unwanted orunwatched. The road to the gate was blocked with barrows andhandcarts.In the middle of the commotion the Sackville-Bagginsesarrived. Frodo had retired for a while and left his friend MerryBrandybuck to keep an eye on things. When Otho loudly demanded to seeFrodo, Merry bowed politely."He is indisposed," he said. "He is resting.""Hiding, you mean," said Lobelia. "Anyway we want to see himand we mean to see him. Just go and tell him so!"Merry left them a long while in the hall, and they had timeto discover their parting gift of spoons. It did not improve theirtempers. Eventually they were shown into the study. Frodo was sittingat a table with a lot of papers in front of him. He lookedindisposed — to see Sackville-Bagginses at any rate; and he stood up,fidgeting with something in his pocket. But he spoke quite politely.The Sackville-Bagginses were rather offensive. They began byoffering him bad bargain-prices (as between friends) for variousvaluable and unlabelled things. When Frodo replied that only thethings specially directed by Bilbo were being given away, they saidthe whole affair was very fishy."Only one thing is clear to me," said Otho, "and that is thatyou are doing exceedingly well out of it. I insist on seeing thewill."Otho would have been Bilbo"s heir, but for the adoption ofFrodo. He read the will carefully and snorted. It was, unfortunately,very clear and correct (according to the legal customs of hobbits,which demand among other things seven signatures of witnesses in redink)."Foiled again!" he said to his wife. "And after waiting sixtyyears. Spoons? Fiddlesticks!" He snapped his fingers under Frodo"snose and stumped off. But Lobelia was not so easily got rid of. Alittle later Frodo came out of the study to see how things were goingon and found her still about the place, investigating nooks andcorners and tapping the floors. He escorted her firmly off thepremises, after he had relieved her of several small (but rathervaluable) articles that had somehow fallen inside her umbrella. Herface looked as if she was in the throes of thinking out a reallycrushing parting remark; but all she found to say, turning round onthe step, was:"You"ll live to regret it, young fellow! Why didn"t you gotoo? You don"t belong here; you"re no Baggins — you — you"re aBrandybuck!""Did you hear that, Merry? That was an insult, if you like,"said Frodo as he shut the door on her."It was a compliment," said Merry Brandybuck, "and so, ofcourse, not true."Then they went round the hole, and evicted three younghobbits (two Boffins and a Bolger) who were knocking holes in thewalls of one of the cellars. Frodo also had a tussle with youngSancho Proudfoot (old Odo Proudfoot"s grandson), who had begun anexcavation in the larger pantry, where he thought there was an echo.The legend of Bilbo"s gold excited both curiosity and hope; forlegendary gold (mysteriously obtained, if not positively ill-gotten)is, as every one knows, any one"s for the finding — unless the searchis interrupted.When he had overcome Sancho and pushed him out, Frodocollapsed on a chair in the hall. "It"s time to close the shop,Merry," he said. "Lock the door, and don"t open it to anyone today,not even if they bring a battering ram." Then he went to revivehimself with a belated cup of tea.He had hardly sat down, when there came a soft knock at thefront-door. "Lobelia again most likely," he thought. "She must havethought of something really nasty, and have come back again to sayit. It can wait."He went on with his tea. The knock was repeated, much louder,but he took no notice. Suddenly the wizard"s head appeared at thewindow."If you don"t let me in, Frodo, I shall blow your door rightdown your hole and out through the hill," he said."My dear Gandalf! Half a minute!" cried Frodo, running out ofthe room to the door. "Come in! Come in! I thought it was Lobelia.""Then I forgive you. But I saw her some time ago, driving apony-trap towards Bywater with a face that would have curdled newmilk.""She had already nearly curdled me. Honestly, I nearly triedon Bilbo"s ring. I longed to disappear.""Don"t do that!" said Gandalf, sitting down. "Do be carefulof that ring, Frodo! In fact, it is partly about that that I havecome to say a last word.""Well, what about it?""What do you know already?""Only what Bilbo told me. I have heard his story: how hefound it, and how he used it: on his journey, I mean.""Which story, I wonder," said Gandalf."Oh, not what he told the dwarves and put in his book," saidFrodo. "He told me the true story soon after I came to live here. Hesaid you had pestered him till he told you, so I had better knowtoo. "No secrets between us, Frodo," he said; "but they are not to goany further. It"s mine anyway."""That"s interesting," said Gandalf. "Well, what did you thinkof it all?""If you mean, inventing all that about a "present", well, Ithought the true story much more likely, and I couldn"t see the pointof altering it at all. It was very unlike Bilbo to do so, anyway; andI thought it rather odd.""So did I. But odd things may happen to people that have suchtreasures — if they use them. Let it be a warning to you to be verycareful with it. It may have other powers than just making you vanishwhen you wish to.""I don"t understand," said Frodo."Neither do I," answered the wizard. "I have merely begun towonder about the ring, especially since last night. No need to worry.But if you take my advice you will use it very seldom, or not at all.At least I beg you not to use it in any way that will cause talk orrouse suspicion. I say again: keep it safe, and keep it secret!""You are very mysterious! What are you afraid of?""I am not certain, so I will say no more. I may be able totell you something when I come back. I am going off at once: so thisis good-bye for the present." He got up."At once!" cried Frodo. "Why, I thought you were staying onfor at least a week. I was looking forward to your help.""I did mean to — but I have had to change my mind. I may beaway for a good while; but I"ll come and see you again, as soon as Ican. Expect me when you see me! I shall slip in quietly. I shan"toften be visiting the Shire openly again. I find that I have becomerather unpopular. They say I am a nuisance and a disturber of thepeace. Some people are actually accusing me of spiriting Bilbo away,or worse. If you want to know, there is supposed to be a plot betweenyou and me to get hold of his wealth.""Some people!" exclaimed Frodo. "You mean Otho and Lobelia.How abominable! I would give them Bag End and everything else, if Icould get Bilbo back and go off tramping in the country with him. Ilove the Shire. But I begin to wish, somehow, that I had gone too. Iwonder if I shall ever see him again.""So do I," said Gandalf. "And I wonder many other things.Good-bye now! Take care of yourself! Look out for me, especially atunlikely times! Good-bye!"Frodo saw him to the door. He gave a final wave of his hand,and walked off at a surprising pace; but Frodo thought the old wizardlooked unusually bent, almost as if he was carrying a great weight.The evening was closing in, and his cloaked figure quickly vanishedinto the twilight. Frodo did not see him again for a long time.Copyright © 1954, 1965, 1966 by J.R.R. Tolkien;1954 edition copyright © renewed 1982 by Christopher R. Tolkien,Michael H.R. Tolkien, John F.R. Tolkien and Priscilla M.A.R. Tolkien;1965/1966 editions copyright © renewed 1993, 1994 by Christopher R.Tolkien, John F.R. Tolkien and Priscilla M.A.R. Tolkien.All rights reserved.Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. --This text refers to the hardcover edition.