It is a beautiful thing. The Underhills, Ferny and Oldham, had been beautiful. It has all the charm of a song, or of a song. It is quite actual. The Underhills sang it. They said it was funny, and so was I. I don't know why. It was just so natural. And funny it was, because it was so natural at the time, too. It was like a dream, or so I thought. It came true, and then it was a lie. It was a dream, and I had had it cut out of my mind. I was so taken up with it that I almost thought I was dreaming, and yet it felt so real to me, in a way; and then at last I put it out of my mind. I mean, it was real. It was real enough in the way I felt when we went out together, singing and talking, after all we had in the last month or two. _What do you think of it?_ Baggins: _I don't know,Baggins. Of course! We had an amazing time! Baggins: We had an amazing time! It was such a long time between us._ _We had an amazing time! Baggins: We had an amazing time! It was such a long time between us._ _We had an amazing time! Baggins: It was like a dream. Baggins: It was like a dream. We had a great time, we said. _We had an amazing time! _ We had a great time. We were bursting at bursting, and bursting full of fire. We were the best band in the Shire! Every song that we wrote, every ragtag mess that we hung out on, was shot in this land of fire and brimstone. And we got so many laughs out of it, we were almost thought impossible to record. It was like a dream. We laughed so hard that we had a hard time getting a hold of the chorus, because it was so loud, and we had to try and keep up with the throb and the squeal and the squeal of our voices. Then when we got to Buckland, we had to get rid of the chorus altogether. It was like a dream, and we were bursting. We've got the keyed chimes of Buckland up our sleeves now, and we'll blaze off in a blaze in the morning. At sunrise my rabble is preparing to march, and march on through Hobbiton and the East, and down from the hills to the stream, and back into the Chetwood, and the Brandywine. I'll be there and take you, Frodo, and tell you what, cousin: I'll be there and tell you what, cousin: I hope the fire is all right, dad? _We've got the keyed chimes of Buckland, and we'll blaze off in a blaze in the morning, and march on through Hobbiton and the East, and down from the hills into the Brandywine, and back into the Chetwood!_ _At sunset I feel the stir of fire in my heart, and the air is hot in the Shire. We've got the keyed chimes of Buckland up our sleeves, And we'll soon be getting orders up!' _We've got the keyed chimes of Buckland up our sleeves, We'll soon be getting orders! 'We hope you're right,' said Sam; 'for that big crowd that was just about to go away is going to be some sort of... crowd-pleasing thing. It will keep all the big weddings ==================== It must have been a lot darker inside, I'll warrant; and I suppose it was less so on that journey down the Pkelmoth, when you were setting out from Hobbiton. It must have looked nearly as dark as I remember it, but it didn't feel the same. I don't know why. And I don't think I've ever felt more alone and troubled, or terrified, than I have been. I suppose I was just wondering what sort of a journey it would be, if you took me on a journey through the woods, as you say; and if hobbit-hood is any guide. But I shall have to be more or less mysterious-in plain sight to anybody now.' He shut his eyes and rubbed them together. They seemed heavy and heavy to him, as if the world had suddenly changed and all his fears had been laid aside. He shuddered, as if a white light had been kindled which no darkness could yet change; but he felt that he stood above the world, and the shadow of it fell on him like a dull piece of metal. Then the company were so far ahead that many of them could not see them at all. But as they turned and passed on into more sheltered places and were less swift, they began to follow after the trail of the Riders that was growing more frequent. At length they came to a narrow bend, in the shadow of a tree-root: it was there that the trail of the hobbits had been laid. The path turned left and climbed steeply, and as it went on it steeply became easier, and at last it bent sharply eastward, and the trail was laid straight for Frodo. As he stood hoping at the least-to-immediate-sight of the place where the trail had been laid he felt a great desire to follow, and he made a last effort to keep up the pace required to follow it. Then he felt the need of some urgency. He stood up, panting. `I feel tired. I don't know why I feel this way,' he said, `but I want to go on. I don't know why I feel so anxious. I feel like walking for a bit.' `I feel like walking,' said Frodo, feeling his heart pierced by a sudden chill. 'I feel like I am going through the woods. I feel like I am in the Shire. I feel like I have come down to the Greenway.' `In the Shire! ' whispered Sam. `Yes, in the Shire! ' said Frodo, still reluctant to follow. `I have not been in the woods in years. I must go on. I must get off the road. I have not been in the Shire for many years. I am going to Bucklebury, to see what the weather is, and to see if any birds can hear me.' 'The weather's beautiful!' said Sam, catching his breath. `It's been burning up lately. It's been warm, and it's been getting drier. I don't know why. We've been worrying about things like that. ' `Well,' said Frodo, 'I can see there's a lot of birds about here. And there are some very large owls. They've been watching us all this day. They're going off again with their big brown geese.' `And what about the geese? ' asked Sam. `There's some big brown geese all about,' said Frodo. `I hear they're notes' (as they say in the Shire) ''and they come after these geese. There's the geese, they say; and then there's the geese-broker, and there's the geese-pony, and that's what he's after. He's always been at the geese. He knows what's going on. And he knows I hear it, I hear it, I hear it. I think he knows what's going on. But he won't say much about it. He's waiting for some geese to warn him of something. And he's got a lot of other things to do. And he's not too worried about our little party, yet.' `I wonder,' said Sam. `He's got a lot to do. But I wonder how many we're going to have before we get to bed. Mr. Frodo, how many are left? ' 'Only one! ' said Frodo, and then his voice fell. `Only one! ' said Fro ==================== He rose, and before him stood a small white figure standing tall, blinking in the twilight. `I have something to tell you, Wormtongue, my dear friend! ' he said. A light flashed in the window. Wormtongue opened the door and came back with a long sigh. 'Do you know what that is? It is a summons, or a summonses wish, or a comic invention. I have heard it before to prevent my enemies from gaining the Paths of the Dead I wish I could have found Gandalf. I have heard many such devices before, but only now do I think how I feel about them. Gandalf would probably be a good friend of mine, if I had known all about him before. He is wise and shrewd, and if he had known all, he might have climbed mountains before now. But he is not. He has no horse. Gandalf told me he wished to see him soon, and would gladly have the horses. So I thought long and hard about last night. But now I think I must give up hope. I wish I could have found Gandalf at the last. He is wise and shrewd, and I wish I could have climbed mountains before now. But he is not. He has no bird. He has no tree. I am not sure. I am afraid of heights. There is no path for me to take under those cliffs and I can see paths. The sky is the canopy of a great tree in the autumn evening. This way is not to be; for my friends do not fly far from the trees now.