clay-pipe straight through each one of Thorin’s. The Gandalf’s
smoke-ring would go green and come back to hover over the wizard’s
head. He had quite a cloud of them about him already, and in the dim
light it made him look strange and sorcerous. Bilbo stood still and
watched-he loved smoke-rings-and then be blushed to think
     “Now for some music!” said Thorin. “Bring out the instruments!”
     Kili and Fili rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles;
     Dori, Nori, and Ori brought out flutes from somewhere inside their
coats; Bombur produced a drum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur went out
too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the
walking- sticks Dwalin and Balin said: “Excuse me, I left mine in the
porch!” “Just bring mine in with you,” said Thorin. They came back
with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin’s harp wrapped in a
green cloth. It was a beautiful gold-en harp, and when Thorin struck
it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot
everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange
moons, far over The Water
     The dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the
side of The Hill; the firelight flickered-it was April-and still they
played on, while the shadow