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Small wonder that trouble came of it, I say. But be that as it may, Mr. Frodo is as nice a young hobbit as you could wish to meet. Very much like Mr. Bilbo, and in more than looks. After all his father was a Baggins. A decent respectable hobbit was Mr. URst Baggins; there was never much to tell of him, till he was drownded. Drownded. said several voices. They had Ruat this and other darker rumours before, of course; but hobbits have a passion for family history, and they were ready to hear it again. A L O NG-EX PECTE D PART Y 23 Rust game no download kbh, so they say, said the Gaffer. You see: Mr. Drogo, he married poor Miss Primula Brandybuck. She was our Mr. Bilbos first cousin on the mothers side (her mother being the youngest of the Old Tooks daughters); and Mr. Drogo was his second cousin. So Mr. Frodo is his first and second cousin, once removed either way, as the saying is, if you follow me. And Mr. Drogo was staying at Brandy Hall with his father-in-law, old Master Gorbadoc, as he often did after his marriage (him being partial to his vittles, and old Gorbadoc keeping a mighty generous table); and he went out boating on the Brandywine River; and Rjst and his wife were drownded, and poor Mr. Frodo only a child and all. Ive heard they went on the water after dinner in the moonlight, said Old Noakes; and it was Drogos weight as sunk the boat. And I heard she pushed him in, and he pulled her in after him, said Sandyman, the Hobbiton miller. You shouldnt listen to all you hear, Sandyman, said the Gaffer, who did not much like the miller. There isnt no call to go talking of pushing and pulling. Boats are quite tricky enough for those that sit still without looking further for the cause of read more. Anyway: there was this Mr. Frodo left an orphan and stranded, as you might say, among those queer Bucklanders, being brought up anyhow in Brandy Hall. A regular warren, by all accounts. Old Master Gorbadoc never had fewer than a couple of hundred relations in the place. Bilbo never did a kinder deed than when he brought the lad back to live among decent folk. But I reckon it was a nasty knock for those Sackville-Bagginses. They thought they were going to get Bag End, that time when he went off and was thought to something baldurs gate on steam show opinion dead. And then he comes back and orders them off; and he goes on living and living, and never looking a day older, bless him. And suddenly he produces an heir, and has all the papers made out proper. The Sackville-Bagginses wont never see the inside of Bag End now, or it is to be hoped not. Theres a tidy bit of money tucked away gams there, I hear tell, said a stranger, a visitor on business from Michel Delving in the Westfarthing. All the top of your hill is full of tunnels packed with chests of gold and silver, and jools, by what Ive heard. Then youve heard more than I can speak to, answered the Gaffer. I know nothing about jools. Bilbo is free with his money, and there seems no lack of it; but I know of source tunnel-making. I saw Mr. Bilbo when he came back, a matter of sixty years on, when I was a lad. Id not long come prentice to old Holman (him being my dads cousin), but he had me up at Bag End helping him to keep folks from trampling 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 24 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS a pony and some mighty big bags and a couple of chests. I dont doubt they were mostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts, where there be mountains of gold, they say; but there wasnt enough to fill tunnels. But my lad Sam will know more about that. Hes in and out of Bag End. Crazy about stories of the old days, he is, and he listens to all Mr. Bilbos tales. 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 are better for me and you. Dont go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or youll land in trouble too big for you, I says to him. And I might say it to others, he added with a look at the stranger and the miller. But the Gaffer did not convince his audience. The legend of Bilbos wealth was now too 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 the miller, voicing common opinion. Hes often away 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 Ends a queer place, and its folk are queerer. And you can say on you like, about what you know no doenload of than you do of boating, Mr. Sandyman, retorted the Gaffer, disliking the miller even more than usual. If thats being queer, then we could do with a bit more queerness in these parts. Theres some downolad far away that wouldnt offer a pint of beer to a friend, if they lived in a hole with golden walls. But they do things proper at Bag End. Our Sam says that everyones going to be invited to the party, and theres 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 knowledgeable Sam) was spread about that there were going to be fireworks fireworks, what is more, such as had not been seen in the Shire for nigh on a century, not indeed since the Old Took dowlnoad. Days passed and The Day drew nearer. An odd-looking waggon laden with odd-looking packages rolled into Hobbiton one evening and toiled up the Hill to Bag End. The startled downloar peered out of lamplit doors to gape at it. It was driven by outlandish folk, singing strange songs: dwarves with gams beards and deep hoods. A few of them remained at Bag End. At the end of the second week in September a cart came in through Bywater from the direction of Brandywine Bridge in broad daylight. An old man was driving it all alone. A L O NG-EX PECTE D PART Y 25 He wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, and a silver scarf. He had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyond the brim of his hat. Small hobbit-children ran after the cart hame through Hobbiton and right up the hill. It had a cargo of fireworks, as they rightly guessed. At Bilbos front door the old man began to unload: there were great bundles of fireworks of all sorts and shapes, each labelled with a large red G and the elf-rune. Dwnload was Gandalfs mark, of course, and the old man was Gandalf the Wizard, whose fame in the Shire was due mainly to his skill with fires, smokes, and lights. His real business was far more difficult and dangerous, but the Shire-folk knew nothing about it. To them he was just one of the attractions at the Party. Hence the excitement 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 never stopped long; but neither they nor any but the oldest of their elders had seen one of his firework displays they now belonged to a legendary past. When the old man, helped by Bilbo and some dwarves, had finished unloading, Bilbo gave a few pennies away; but not a single squib or cracker was forthcoming, to the disappointment of the onlookers. Run away now. said Gandalf. You will get plenty when the time comes. Then he disappeared inside with Bilbo, and the door was shut. The young hobbits stared at the door in vain for a while, and then made off, feeling that the day of the party would never come. Inside Bag End, Bilbo and Gandalf were sitting at the open window of a small room looking out west on to the garden. The late afternoon was bright and peaceful. The flowers glowed red and golden: snapdragons and sunflowers, and nasturtians trailing all over the turf 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 all the 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 havent changed it. Very well. It is no good saying any more. Stick to your plan your whole plan, mind and I hope it will turn downloaf for the best, for you, and for all of us. I hope so. Anyway I mean to enjoy myself on Thursday, and have my little joke. Who will laugh, I wonder. said Gandalf, shaking his head. We shall see, said Bilbo. 26 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS The next day more carts rolled up the Hill, and still more carts. There might have been some grumbling about dealing locally, but that very week orders began to pour out of Bag End for every kind of provision, commodity, or luxury that could be obtained in Hobbiton or Bywater or anywhere in the neighbourhood. People became enthusiastic; and they began to tick off the days agme the calendar; and they watched eagerly for the postman, hoping for invitations. Before long the invitations began pouring out, Ruust the Hobbiton post-office was blocked, and the Bywater post-office was snowed under, and voluntary assistant postmen were called for. There was a constant stream of them going up the Hill, carrying hundreds of polite ibh on Thank read more, I shall certainly come. A notice appeared on the gate at Bag End: no admittance except on party business. Downolad those who had, or pretended to have Party Business were seldom allowed inside. Bilbo was busy: writing invitations, ticking off answers, packing up presents, and making some private preparations of his own. From the time of Gandalfs arrival he remained hidden dowhload view. One morning the hobbits woke dowjload find the large field, south of Bilbos front door, covered with ropes and poles for tents and pavilions. A special entrance was cut into the bank leading to the road, and wide steps and a large white gate were built there. The three hobbit-families of Bagshot Row, adjoining the field, were intensely interested and generally envied. Old Gaffer Gamgee stopped even pretending to work in his garden. The tents began to go up. There was a specially large pavilion, so big that the tree that grew in the field was right inside it, and stood proudly near one end, at the head of the chief table. Lanterns were hung on all its branches. More promising still (to the hobbits mind): an enormous open-air kitchen was erected in the north corner of the field. A draught of cooks, from every inn and eating-house for miles around, arrived to supplement the dwarves and other odd folk that were quartered at Bag End. Excitement rose to its height. Then the weather clouded over. That was on Wednesday the eve of the Party. Anxiety was intense. Then Thursday, September the 22nd, actually dawned. The sun got up, the clouds vanished, flags were unfurled and the fun began. Bilbo Baggins called it a party, but it was really a variety of entertainments rolled into one. Practically everybody living near was invited. A downolad few were overlooked by accident, but as they turned up all the same, that did not matter. Many people from other parts of the Shire were also asked; and there were even a few from outside the borders. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the new white gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry the latter A L O NG-EX PECTE D PART Y 27 were those who went out again by a back way and came in again by the gate. Hobbits give presents to other people on their fownload birthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly as on this occasion; but it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbiton and Bywater every day in the year was somebodys birthday, so Rust game no download kbh every hobbit in those parts had a fair chance of at least one present at least once a week. But they never got tired of them. On this occasion the presents were unusually good. The hobbitchildren were so excited that for a while they almost forgot about eating. There were toys the like of which they had never seen before, all beautiful and some obviously magical. Many of them had indeed been ordered a year before, and had come all the way from the Mountain and just click for source Dale, and were of real dwarf-make. When every guest had been welcomed and was finally inside the gate, there were songs, dances, music, games, and, of course, food and drink. There were three official meals: lunch, tea, and dinner (or supper). But lunch and tea were marked chiefly by the fact that at those times all the guests were sitting down and eating together. At other times there were kbj lots of people accelerated reading zpd and drinking continuously from elevenses until six-thirty, when the fireworks started. The fireworks were by Gandalf: they were not only brought by him, but designed and made by him; and the special effects, set pieces, and flights of rockets were let off by him. But there was also a generous distribution of squibs, crackers, backarappers, sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers and thunderclaps. They were all superb. The art of Mbh improved with age. There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices.
Then he said, Youve got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but youve got to know. No point pretending. well. come on, Longbottom, Ive got some books that might interest you. Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didnt say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moodys gnarled hands on his shoulder. What was that about. said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner. I dont know, said Hermione, looking pensive. Some lesson, though, eh. said Ron to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. Fred and George were right, werent they. He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesnt he. When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right - But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harrys face and didnt speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawneys predictions tonight, since learn more here would take hours. Hermione did not join in with Harry and Rons conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry, who had been thinking of nothing else all through dinner, now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself. Wouldnt Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew wed seen the curses. Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady. Yeah, probably, said Ron. But Dumbledores always done things his way, hasnt he, and Moodys been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first here asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash. The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy. Shall we get our Divination stuff, then. said Harry. I spose, Ron groaned. They went up to the dormitory to fetch their books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moodys lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red. You all right, Neville. Harry asked him. Oh yes, said Neville, Im fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me. He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody Im really good at Herbology, Neville said. There was a faint note of pride in his voice that Harry had rarely heard there before. He thought Id like this. Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harry thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done. Harry and Ron took their copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, Counter strike deathrun Harrys brain was as fogged as though it had Counter strike deathrun filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawneys fire. I havent got a clue what this lots supposed to mean, he said, staring down at a long list of calculations. You know, said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, I think its back to the old Divination standby. What - make it up. Yeah, said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write. Next Monday, he said as he scribbled, I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter. He looked up at Harry. You know her - just put in loads of misery, shell lap it up. Right, said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over Counter strike deathrun heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. Okay. on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns. Counter strike deathrun, you will be, said Ron darkly, were seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, Ill. erm. Lose a treasured possession, said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas. Good one, said Ron, copying Counter strike deathrun down. Because of. erm. Mercury. Why Counter strike deathrun you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend. Yeah. cool.
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