hood. As soon a the door was
     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
     
     “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
     “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