The Hobbit

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In this reprint several minor inaccuracies, most of them noted by readers, have been corrected. For

example, the text on pages 32 and 62 now corresponds exactly with the runes on Thror's Map. More

important is the matter of Chapter Five. There the true story of the ending of the Riddle Game, as it was

eventually revealed (under pressure) by Bilbo to Gandalf, is now given according to the Red Book, in

place of the version Bilbo first gave to his friends, and actually set down in his diary. This departure from

truth on the part of a most honest hobbit was a portent of great significance. It does not, however,

concern the present story, and those who in this edition make their first acquaintance with hobbit-lore

need not troupe about it. Its explanation lies in the history of the Ring, as it was set out in the chronicles of

the Red Book of Westmarch, and is now told in The Lord of the Rings.

A final note may be added, on a point raised by several students of the lore of the period. On Thror's

Map is written Here of old was Thrain King under the Mountain; yet Thrain was the son of Thror, the last

King under the Mountain before the coming of the dragon. The Map, however, is not in error. Names

are often repeated in dynasties, and the genealogies show that a distant ancestor of Thror was referred

to, Thrain I, a fugitive from Moria, who first discovered the Lonely Mountain, Erebor, and ruled there for

a while, before his people moved on to the remoter mountains of the North.

Chapter I

An Unexpected Party

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and

an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a

hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact

middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without

smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots

of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but

not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it - and

many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the

hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted

to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The

best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows,

deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.

This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the

neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only

because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything

unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him.

This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, found himself doing and saying things altogether

unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours' respect, but he gained-well, you will see whether he

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gained anything in the end.

The mother of our particular hobbit ... what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description

nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us. They are (or were) a

little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits have no beards.

There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear

quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like

elephants which they can hear a mile off. They are inclined to be at in the stomach; they dress in bright

colours (chiefly green and yellow); wear no shoes, because their feet grow natural leathery soles and

thick warm brown hair like the stuff on their heads (which is curly); have long clever brown fingers,

good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day

when they can get it). Now you know enough to go on with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit -

of Bilbo Baggins, that is - was the fabulous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of

the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The

Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy

wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about

them, - and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly

disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as

the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures

after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious

hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The

Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo,

her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable

father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Took side, something that only waited for a

chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years

old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you,

until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably.

By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and

more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Bilbo Baggins was standing at his

door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly

toes (neatly brushed) - Gandalf came by. Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard

about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort I of

remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most

extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since his

friend the Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been

away over The Hill and across The Water on business of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys

and hobbit-girls.

All that the unsuspecting Bilbo saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue

hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense

black boots.

"Good morning!" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But

Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady

hat. "What do you mean?" be said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning

whether I want not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once," said Bilbo. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the

bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the

day before us!" Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful

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grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill.

"Very pretty!" said Gandalf. "But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for

someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."

"I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty

.disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them," said

our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring.

Then he took out his morning letters, and begin to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old

man. He had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But the old man did not

move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got quite

uncomfortable and even a little cross.

"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over

The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.

"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get

rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."

"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"

"Yes, yes, my dear sir - and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name,

though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I

should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the

door!"

"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic

diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to

tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and

the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent

fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used

to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" You

will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very

fond of flowers. "Dear me!" she went on. "Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads

and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from climbing trees to visiting Elves - or

sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter - I mean, you used to upset

things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in

business."

"Where else should I be?" said the wizard. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something

about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, land that is not without hope. Indeed

for your old grand-father Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you

asked for."

"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!"

"Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this

adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over

it."

"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea -

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any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!"

With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared,

not to seen rude. Wizards after all are wizards.

"What on earth did I ask him to tea for!" he said to him-self, as he went to the pantry. He had only just

had break fast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright.

Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he

stepped up, and with the spike of his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green

front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and

beginning to think that he had escape adventures very well.

The next day he had almost forgotten about Gandalf He did not remember things very well, unless he put

them down on his Engagement Tablet: like this: Gandalf '?a Wednesday. Yesterday he had been too

flustered to do anything of the kind. Just before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-door

bell, and then he remembered! He rushed and put on the kettle, and put out another cup and saucer and

an extra cake or two, and ran to the door.

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting!" he was going to say, when he saw that it was not Gandalf at all. It

was a dwarf with a blue beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes under his dark-green hood.

As soon a the door was opened, he pushed inside, just as if he had been expected.

He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and "Dwalin at your service!" he said with a low bow.

"Bilbo Baggins at yours!" said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the

silence that followed had become uncomfortable, he added: "I am just about to take tea; pray come and

have some with me." A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited

dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?

They had not been at table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another

even louder ring at the bell.

"Excuse me!" said the hobbit, and off he went to the door.

"So you have got here at last!" was what he was going to say to Gandalf this time. But it was not

Gandalf. Instead there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood;

and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited.

"I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Dwalin's green hood hanging

up. He hung his red one next to it, and "Balin at your service!" he said with his hand on his breast.

"Thank you!" said Bilbo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but they have begun to arrive

had flustered him badly. He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he

preferred to ask them himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he-as

the host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful-he might have to go without.

"Come along in, and have some tea!" he managed to say after taking a deep breath.

"A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir," said Balin with the white

beard. "But I don't mind some cake-seed-cake, if you have any."

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"Lots!" Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the

cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and to the pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had

baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.

When he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they

were brothers). Bilbo plumped down the beer and the cake in front of them, when loud came a ring at

the bell again, and then another ring.

"Gandalf for certain this time," he thought as he puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two

more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow beards; and each of them carried a bag of

tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open-Bilbo was hardly surprised at all.

"What can I do for you, my dwarves?" he said. "Kili at your service!" said the one. "And Fili!" added the

other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.

"At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.

"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!"

"Throng!" thought Mr. Baggins. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and

collect my wits, and have a drink." He had only just had a sip-in the corner, while the four dwarves sat

around the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of

dragons, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded

much too adventurous-when, ding-dong-a-ling-' dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty little

hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off. "Someone at the door!" he said, blinking. "Some four, I

should say by the sound," said Fili. "Be-sides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance."

The poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put his head in his hands, and wondered what had

happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang

again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not four after all, t was FIVE. Another

dwarf had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, be-x)re they

were all inside, bowing and saying "at your service" one after another. Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin

were their names; and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were

hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with their broad hands stuck in their gold and silver belts to

join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and

one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while.

A big jug of coffee bad just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were

starting on a round of buttered scones, when there came-a loud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on

the hobbit's beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick!

Bilbo rushed along the passage, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered-this was the

most awkward Wednesday he ever remembered. He pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell

in, one on top of the other. More dwarves, four more! And there was Gandalf behind, leaning on his staff

and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the

secret mark that he had put there the morning before.

"Carefully! Carefully!" he said. "It is not like you, Bilbo, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then

open the door like a pop-gun! Let me introduce Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and especially Thorin!"

"At your service!" said Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur standing in a row. Then they hung up two yellow

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摘要：

Inthisreprintseveralminorinaccuracies,mostofthemnotedbyreader\s,havebeencorrected.Forexample,thetextonpages32and62nowcorrespondsexactlywiththeru\nesonThror'sMap.MoreimportantisthematterofChapterFive.Therethetruestoryoftheend\ingoftheRiddleGame,asitwaseventuallyrevealed(underpressure)byBilbotoGandalf...

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The Hobbit

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