①'There's a tidy bit of money tucked away up there, I hear tell,' said a stranger,a visitor on business from Michel Delving in the Westfarthing. 'All the top of yourhill is full of tunnels packed with chests of gold and silver, and jools, by whatI've heard. '
②'Then you've heard more than I can speak to,' answered the Gaffer. I know nothingabout jools. Mr. Bilbo is free with his money, and there seems no lack of it; butI know of no tunnel-making. I saw Mr. Bilbo when he came back, a matter of sixty yearsago, when I was a 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 from trampling andtrapessing all over the garden while the sale was on. And in the middle of it allMr. Bilbo comes up the Hill with a pony and some mighty big bags and a couple of chests.I don't doubt they were mostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts,where there be mountains of gold, they say; but there wasn't enough to fill tunnels.But my lad Sam will know more about that. He's in and out of Bag End. Crazy aboutstories of the old days he is, and he listens to all Mr. Bilbo's tales. Mr. Bilbohas learned him his letters . meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will comeof it.
③'Elves and Dragons' I says to him. 'Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you.Don't go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you'll land in troubletoo big for you,' I says to him. And I might say it to others,' he added with a lookat the stranger and the miller.
④But the Gaffer did not convince his audience. The legend of Bilbo's wealth was nowtoo firmly fixed in the minds of the younger generation of hobbits.
'Ah, but he has likely enough been adding to what he brought at first,' argued themiller, voicing common opinion. 'He's often away from home. And look at the outlandishfolk 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 queer place, and its folkare queerer.'
⑤'And you can say what you like, about what you know no more of than you do of boating,Mr. Sandyman,' retorted the Gaffer, disliking the miller even more than usual. Ifthat'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, if they lived ina hole with golden walls. But they do things proper at Bag End. Our Sam says thateveryone's going to be invited to the party, and there's going to be presents, markyou, presents for all—this very month as is.'
⑥That very month was September, and as fine as you could ask. A day or two later arumour (probably started by the knowledgeable Sam) was spread about that there weregoing to be fireworks . fireworks, what is more, such as had not been seen in theShire for nigh on a century, not indeed since the Old Took died.
⑦Days passed and The Day drew nearer. An odd-looking waggon laden with odd-lookingpackages rolled into Hobbiton one evening and toiled up the Hill to Bag End. Thestartled hobbits peered out of lamplit doors to gape at it. It was driven by outlandishfolk, singing strange songs: dwarves with long beards and deep hoods. A few of themremained at Bag End. At the end of the second week in September a cart came in throughBywater from the direction of the Brandywine Bridge in broad daylight. An old manwas driving it all alone. He wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, anda silver scarf. He had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyondthe brim of his hat. Small hobbit-children ran after the cart all through Hobbitonand right up the hill. It had a cargo of fireworks, as they rightly guessed. At Bilbo'sfront door the old man began to unload: there were great bundles of fireworks of allsorts and shapes, each labelled with a large red G and the elf-rune, .
⑧That was Gandalf's mark, of course, and the old man was Gandalf the Wizard, whosefame in the Shire was due mainly to his skill with fires, smokes, and lights. Hisreal business was far more difficult and dangerous, but the Shire-folk knew nothingabout it. To them he was just one of the 'attractions' at the Party. Hence theexcitement of the hobbit-children. 'G for Grand!' they shouted, and the old man smiled.They knew him by sight, though he only appeared in Hobbiton occasionally and neverstopped long; but neither they nor any but the oldest of their elders had seen oneof his firework displays . they now belonged to the legendary past.
⑨When the old man, helped by Bilbo and some dwarves, had finished unloading, Bilbogave a few pennies away; but not a single squib or cracker was forthcoming, to thedisappointment of the onlookers.
'Run away now!' said Gandalf. 'You will get plenty when the time comes.' Then hedisappeared inside with Bilbo, and the door was shut. The young hobbits stared atthe door in vain for a while, and then made off, feeling that the day of the partywould never come.
②'Then you've heard more than I can speak to,' answered the Gaffer. I know nothingabout jools. Mr. Bilbo is free with his money, and there seems no lack of it; butI know of no tunnel-making. I saw Mr. Bilbo when he came back, a matter of sixty yearsago, when I was a 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 from trampling andtrapessing all over the garden while the sale was on. And in the middle of it allMr. Bilbo comes up the Hill with a pony and some mighty big bags and a couple of chests.I don't doubt they were mostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts,where there be mountains of gold, they say; but there wasn't enough to fill tunnels.But my lad Sam will know more about that. He's in and out of Bag End. Crazy aboutstories of the old days he is, and he listens to all Mr. Bilbo's tales. Mr. Bilbohas learned him his letters . meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will comeof it.
③'Elves and Dragons' I says to him. 'Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you.Don't go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you'll land in troubletoo big for you,' I says to him. And I might say it to others,' he added with a lookat the stranger and the miller.
④But the Gaffer did not convince his audience. The legend of Bilbo's wealth was nowtoo firmly fixed in the minds of the younger generation of hobbits.
'Ah, but he has likely enough been adding to what he brought at first,' argued themiller, voicing common opinion. 'He's often away from home. And look at the outlandishfolk 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 queer place, and its folkare queerer.'
⑤'And you can say what you like, about what you know no more of than you do of boating,Mr. Sandyman,' retorted the Gaffer, disliking the miller even more than usual. Ifthat'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, if they lived ina hole with golden walls. But they do things proper at Bag End. Our Sam says thateveryone's going to be invited to the party, and there's going to be presents, markyou, presents for all—this very month as is.'
⑥That very month was September, and as fine as you could ask. A day or two later arumour (probably started by the knowledgeable Sam) was spread about that there weregoing to be fireworks . fireworks, what is more, such as had not been seen in theShire for nigh on a century, not indeed since the Old Took died.
⑦Days passed and The Day drew nearer. An odd-looking waggon laden with odd-lookingpackages rolled into Hobbiton one evening and toiled up the Hill to Bag End. Thestartled hobbits peered out of lamplit doors to gape at it. It was driven by outlandishfolk, singing strange songs: dwarves with long beards and deep hoods. A few of themremained at Bag End. At the end of the second week in September a cart came in throughBywater from the direction of the Brandywine Bridge in broad daylight. An old manwas driving it all alone. He wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, anda silver scarf. He had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyondthe brim of his hat. Small hobbit-children ran after the cart all through Hobbitonand right up the hill. It had a cargo of fireworks, as they rightly guessed. At Bilbo'sfront door the old man began to unload: there were great bundles of fireworks of allsorts and shapes, each labelled with a large red G and the elf-rune, .
⑧That was Gandalf's mark, of course, and the old man was Gandalf the Wizard, whosefame in the Shire was due mainly to his skill with fires, smokes, and lights. Hisreal business was far more difficult and dangerous, but the Shire-folk knew nothingabout it. To them he was just one of the 'attractions' at the Party. Hence theexcitement of the hobbit-children. 'G for Grand!' they shouted, and the old man smiled.They knew him by sight, though he only appeared in Hobbiton occasionally and neverstopped long; but neither they nor any but the oldest of their elders had seen oneof his firework displays . they now belonged to the legendary past.
⑨When the old man, helped by Bilbo and some dwarves, had finished unloading, Bilbogave a few pennies away; but not a single squib or cracker was forthcoming, to thedisappointment of the onlookers.
'Run away now!' said Gandalf. 'You will get plenty when the time comes.' Then hedisappeared inside with Bilbo, and the door was shut. The young hobbits stared atthe door in vain for a while, and then made off, feeling that the day of the partywould never come.
