living memory of the
Elder Days in Middle-earth.
THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING
BEING THE FIRST PART OF
The Lord of the Rings
Chapter
1
A LONG-EXPECTED PARTY
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party
of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.
Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance
and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly
believed, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And if that
was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at. Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect
on Mr. Baggins. At ninety he was much the same as at fifty. At ninety-nine they began to call him
well-preserved;
but
unchanged
would have been nearer the mark. There were some that shook their heads and thought this was too much of a good 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 was generous with his money, most people were willing to forgive him his
oddities and his good fortune. He remained on visiting terms with his relatives (except, of course, the Sackville-Bagginses),
and he had many devoted admirers among the hobbits of poor and unimportant families. But he had no close friends, until some
of his younger cousins began to grow up.
The eldest of these, and Bilbo’s favourite, was young Frodo Baggins. When Bilbo was ninety-nine he adopted Frodo as his heir,
and brought him to live at Bag End; and the hopes of the Sackville-Bagginses were finally dashed. Bilbo and Frodo happened
to have the same birthday, September 22nd. ‘You had better come and live here, Frodo my lad,’ said Bilbo one day; ‘and then
we can celebrate our birthday-parties comfortably together.’ At that time Frodo was still in his
tweens,
as the hobbits called the irresponsible twenties between childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.
Twelve more years passed. Each year the Bagginses had given very lively combined birthday-parties at Bag End; but now it wasunderstood that something quite exceptional was being planned for that autumn. Bilbo was going to be
eleventy-one,
111, a rather curious number, and a very respectable age for a hobbit (the Old Took himself 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 of the coming event travelled all over the Shire. The history and
character of Mr. Bilbo Baggins became once again the chief topic of conversation; and the older folk suddenly found their
reminiscences in 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 small inn on the Bywater road; and he spoke with some authority, for he had tended the garden at Bag End for forty years,
and had helped old Holman in the same job before that. Now that he was himself growing old and stiff in the joints, the job
was mainly carried on by his youngest son, Sam Gamgee. Both father and son were on very friendly terms with Bilbo and Frodo.
They lived on the Hill itself, in Number 3 Bagshot Row just below Bag End.
‘A very nice well-spoken gentlehobbit is Mr. Bilbo, as I’ve always said,’ the Gaffer declared. With perfect truth: for Bilbo
was very polite to him, calling him ‘Master Hamfast’, and consulting him constantly upon the growing of vegetables – in the
matter of ‘roots’, especially potatoes, the Gaffer
Elder Days in Middle-earth.
THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING
BEING THE FIRST PART OF
The Lord of the Rings
Chapter
1
A LONG-EXPECTED PARTY
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party
of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.
Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance
and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly
believed, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And if that
was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at. Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect
on Mr. Baggins. At ninety he was much the same as at fifty. At ninety-nine they began to call him
well-preserved;
but
unchanged
would have been nearer the mark. There were some that shook their heads and thought this was too much of a good 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 was generous with his money, most people were willing to forgive him his
oddities and his good fortune. He remained on visiting terms with his relatives (except, of course, the Sackville-Bagginses),
and he had many devoted admirers among the hobbits of poor and unimportant families. But he had no close friends, until some
of his younger cousins began to grow up.
The eldest of these, and Bilbo’s favourite, was young Frodo Baggins. When Bilbo was ninety-nine he adopted Frodo as his heir,
and brought him to live at Bag End; and the hopes of the Sackville-Bagginses were finally dashed. Bilbo and Frodo happened
to have the same birthday, September 22nd. ‘You had better come and live here, Frodo my lad,’ said Bilbo one day; ‘and then
we can celebrate our birthday-parties comfortably together.’ At that time Frodo was still in his
tweens,
as the hobbits called the irresponsible twenties between childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.
Twelve more years passed. Each year the Bagginses had given very lively combined birthday-parties at Bag End; but now it wasunderstood that something quite exceptional was being planned for that autumn. Bilbo was going to be
eleventy-one,
111, a rather curious number, and a very respectable age for a hobbit (the Old Took himself 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 of the coming event travelled all over the Shire. The history and
character of Mr. Bilbo Baggins became once again the chief topic of conversation; and the older folk suddenly found their
reminiscences in 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 small inn on the Bywater road; and he spoke with some authority, for he had tended the garden at Bag End for forty years,
and had helped old Holman in the same job before that. Now that he was himself growing old and stiff in the joints, the job
was mainly carried on by his youngest son, Sam Gamgee. Both father and son were on very friendly terms with Bilbo and Frodo.
They lived on the Hill itself, in Number 3 Bagshot Row just below Bag End.
‘A very nice well-spoken gentlehobbit is Mr. Bilbo, as I’ve always said,’ the Gaffer declared. With perfect truth: for Bilbo
was very polite to him, calling him ‘Master Hamfast’, and consulting him constantly upon the growing of vegetables – in the
matter of ‘roots’, especially potatoes, the Gaffer
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