e_eleventy…one；_ 111； a rather curious number and a very respectable age for ahobbit （the Old Took himself had only reached 130）； and Frodo was going to be_thirty…three；_ 33） an important number： the date of his 'ing of age'。
Tongues began to wag in Hobbiton and Bywater； and rumour of the ingevent travelled all over the Shire。 The history and character of Mr。 BilboBaggins became once again the chief topic of conversation； and the older folksuddenly found their reminiscences in wele demand。
No one had a more attentive audience than old Ham Gamgee； monly knownas 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 BagEnd 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 wasmainly carried on by his youngest son； Sam Gamgee。 Both father and son were onvery friendly terms with Bilbo and Frodo。 They lived on the Hill itself； inNumber 3 Bagshot Row just below Bag End。
'A very nice well…spoken gentlehobbit is Mr。 Bilbo； as I've alwayssaid；' the Gaffer declared。 With perfect truth： for Bilbo was very polite tohim； calling him 'Master Hamfast'； and consulting him constantly upon thegrowing of vegetables – in the matter of 'roots'； especially potatoes； theGaffer was recognized as the leading authority by all in the neighbourhood（including himself）。
'But what about this Frodo that lives with him？' asked Old Noakes of
Bywater。 'Baggins is his name； but he's more than half a Brandybuck； they say。
It beats me why any Baggins of Hobbiton should go looking for a wife awaythere in Buckland； where folks are so queer。'
'And no wonder they're queer；' put in Daddy Twofoot （the Gaffer's next…
door neighbour）； 'if they live on the wrong side of the Brandywine River； andright agin the Old Forest。 That's a dark bad place； if half the tales betrue。'
'You're right； Dad！' said the Gaffer。 'Not that the Brandybucks of Buckland
live _in_ the Old Forest； but they're a queer breed； seemingly。 They foolabout with boats on that big river – and that isn't natural。 Small wonder thattrouble came of it； I say。 But be that as it may； Mr。 Frodo is as nice a younghobbit as you could wish to meet。 Very much like Mr。 Bilbo； and in more thanlooks。 After all his father was a Baggins。 A decent respectable hobbit was Mr。
Drogo Baggins； there was never much to tell of him； till he was drownded。'
'Drownded？' said several voices。 They had heard this and other darkerrumours before； of course； but hobbits have a passion for family history； andthey were ready to hear it again。 'Well； so they say；' said the Gaffer。 'Yousee： Mr。 Drogo； he married poor Miss Primula Brandybuck。 She was our Mr。
Bilbo's first cousin on the mother's side （her mother being the youngest ofthe Old Took's daughters）； and Mr。 Drogo was his second cousin。 So Mr。 Frodois 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 beingpartial to his vittles； and old Gorbadoc keeping a mighty generous table）； andhe went out _boating_on the Brandywine River； and he and his wife weredrownded； and poor Mr。 Frodo only a child and all。 '
'I've heard they went on the water after dinner in the moonlight；' saidOld Noakes； 'and it was Drogo's weight as sunk the boat。'
'And _I_ heard she pushed him in； and he pulled her in after him；' saidSandyman； the Hobbiton miller。
'You shouldn't listen to all you hear； Sandyman；' said the Gaffer； whodid not much like the miller。 'There isn't no call to go talking of pushingand pulling。 Boats are quite tricky enough for those that sit still withoutlooking further for the cause of trouble。 Anyway： there was this Mr。 Frodoleft 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。 OldMaster Gorbadoc never had fewer than a couple of hundred relations in theplace。 Mr。 Bilbo never did a kinder deed than when he brought the lad back tolive among decent folk。
'But I reckon it was a nasty shock for those Sackville…Bagginses。 Theythought they were going to get Bag End； that time when he went off and wasthought to be dead。 And then he es back and orders them off； and he goes onliving and living； and never looking a day older； bless him！ And suddenly heproduces an heir； and has all the papers made out proper。 The Sackville…
Bagginses won't never see the inside of Bag End now； or it is to be hopednot。'
'There's a tidy bit of money tucked away up there； I hear tell；' said a
stranger； a visitor on business from Michel Delving in the Westfarthing。 'Allthe top of your hill is full of tunnels packed with chests of gold and silver；
_and_jools； by what I've heard。 '
'Then you've heard more than I can speak to；' answered the Gaffer。 I knownothing about _jools。_ Mr。 Bilbo is free with his money； and there seems nolack of it； but I know of no tunnel…making。 I saw Mr。 Bilbo when he came back；
a matter of sixty years ago； when I was a lad。 I'd not long e prentice toold Holman （him being my dad's cousin）； but he had me up at Bag End helpinghim to keep folks from trampling and trapessing all over the garden while thesale was on。 And in the middle of it all Mr。 Bilbo es up the Hill with apony and some mighty big bags and a couple of chests。 I don't doubt they weremostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts； where there bemountains of gold； they say； but there wasn't enough to fill tunnels。 But mylad Sam will know more about that。 He's in and out of Bag End。 Crazy aboutstories of the old days he is； and he listens to all Mr。 Bilbo's tales。 Mr。
Bilbo has learned him his letters – meaning no harm； mark you； and I hope noharm will e of it。
_'Elves and Dragons'_ I says to him。 '_Cabbages and potatoes are betterfor me and you。 Don't go getting mixed up in the business of your betters； oryou'll land in trouble too big for you；'_I says to him。 And I might say it toothers；' he added with a look at the stranger and the miller。
But the Gaffer did not convince his audience。 The legend of Bilbo'swealth was now too firmly fixed in the minds of the younger generation ofhobbits。
'Ah； but he has likely enough been adding to what he brought at first；'
argued the miller； voicing mon opinion。 'He's often away from home。 Andlook at the outlandish folk that visit him： dwarves ing at night； and thatold wandering conjuror； Gandalf； and all。 You can say what you like； Gaffer；
but Bag End's a queer place； and its folk are queerer。'
'And you can say _what you_ like； about what you know no more of than youdo of boating； Mr。 Sandyman；' retorted the Gaffer； disliking the miller evenmore than usual。 If that's being queer； then we could do with a bit morequeerness in these parts。 There's some not far away that wouldn't offer a pintof beer to a friend； if they lived in a hole with golden walls。 But they dothings proper at Bag End。 Our Sam says that _everyone's_ going to be invitedto the party； and there's 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 twolater a rumour （probably started by the knowledgeable Sam） was spread aboutthat there were going to be fireworks – fireworks； what is more； such as hadnot been seen in the Shire for nigh on a century； not indeed since the OldTook died。
Days passed and The Day drew nearer。 An odd…looking waggon laden withodd…looking packages rolled into Hobbiton one evening and toiled up the Hillto Bag End。 The startled hobbits peered out of lamplit doors to gape at it。 Itwas driven by outlandish folk； singing strange songs： dwarves with long beardsand deep hoods。 A few of them remained at Bag End。 At the end of the secondweek in September a cart came in through Bywater from the direction of theBrandywine Bridge in broad daylight。 An old man was driving it all alone。 Hewore a tall pointed blue hat； a long grey cloak； and a silver scarf。 He had along white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyond the brim of his hat。
Small hobbit…children ran after the cart all through Hobbiton and right up thehill。 It had a cargo of fireworks； as they rightly guessed。 At Bilbo's frontdoor the old man began to unload： there were great bundles of fireworks of allsorts and shapes； each labelled with a large red G and the elf…rune； 。
That was Gandalf's mark； of course； and the old man was Gandalf theWizard； 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。 'Gfor Grand！' they shouted； and the old man smiled。 They knew him by sight；
though he only appeared in Hobbiton occasionally and never stopped long； butneither they nor any but the oldest of their elders had seen one of hisfirework displays – they now belonged to the legendary past。
When the old man； helped by Bilbo and some dwarves； had finishedunloading。 Bilbo gave a few pennies away； but not a single squib or crackerwas forthing； to the disappointment of the onlookers。
'Run away now！' said Gandalf。 'You will get plenty when the time es。'
Then he disappeared inside with Bilbo； and the door was shut。 The younghobbits stared at the door in vain for a while； and then made off； feelingthat the day of the party would never e。
Inside Bag End； Bilbo and Gandalf were sitting at the open window of asmall room looking out west on to the garden。 The late afternoon was brightand peaceful。 The flowers glowed red and golden： snap…dragons and sun…flowers；
and nasturtiums trailing all over the turf walls and peeping in at the roundwindows。
'How bright your garden looks！' said Gandalf。
'Yes；' said Bilbo。 I am very fond indeed of it； and of all the dear oldShire； 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 haven't changed it。'
'Very well。 It is no good saying any more。 Stick to your plan – yourwhole plan； mind – and I hope it will turn out for the best； for you； and forall 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。
The next day more carts rolled up the Hill； and still more carts。 Theremight have been some grumbling about 'dealing locally'； but that very weekorders began to pour out of Bag End for every kind of provision； modity； orluxury that could be obtained in Hobbiton or Bywater or anywhere in theneighbourhood。 People became enthusiastic； and they began to tick off the dayson the calendar； and they watched eagerly for the postman； hoping forinvitations。
Before long the invitations began pouring out； and the Hobbiton post…
office was blocked； and the Bywater post…office was snowed under； andvoluntary assistant postmen were called for。 There was a constant stream ofthem going up the Hill；