Bilbo's book
Bilbo writes on his book
- Bilbo:
- (is sitting at his desk, writing, smoking a pipe) 22nd of
September in the year 1400, by Shire-reckoning. Bag end, Bagshot Row, Hobbiton West-Farthing, the Shire,Middle-Earth. The third age of this world.
There and back again. A Hobbit's tale by Bilbo Baggins. Now, where to begin? Ah, yes: Concerning Hobbits.
Hobbits have been living and farming in the four farthings of the Shire for many hundreds of years, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the world of the Big Folk. Middle-earth being, after all, full of strange creatures beyond count, hobbits must seem of little importance. Being neither renowned as great warriors nor counted among the very wise. (laughing)
- --It knocks on the door--
- Bilbo:
- Frodo, someone at the door! In fact, it has been remarked by some that Hobbits' only real passion is for food. A rather unfair observation as we have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth. For all Hobbits share a love of things that grow. And, yes, no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint. But today of all days it is brought home to me: it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.
- --It knocks on the door again--
- Bilbo:
- Hmm, Frodo, the door!!
- --knocking again--
- Bilbo:
- Sticklebacks! Where is that boy? Frodo!
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