Then off they went into another song as ridiculous as the one I have
written down in full. At last one, a tall young fellow, came out from
the trees and bowed to Gandalf and to Thorin.
     “Welcome to the valley!” he said.
     “Thank you!” said Thorin a bit gruffly; but Gandalf was already off
his horse and among the elves, talking
     “You are a little out of your way,” said the elf: “that is, if you are
making for the only path across the water and to the house beyond. We
will set you right, but you had best get on foot, until you are over
the bridge. Are you going to stay a bit and sing with us, or will you
go straight on? Supper is preparing over there,” he said. “I can smell
the Wood-fires for the cooking.”
     Tired as he was, Bilbo would have liked to stay awhile. Elvish singing
is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars, not if you care for
such things.
     Also he would have liked to have a few private words with these people
that seemed to know his name and all about him, although he had never
been them before. He thought their opinion of his adventure might be
interesting. Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know
what is going on among the peoples of the land, as quick as water