Little of all this, of course, reached the ears of ordinary hobbits.
But even the deafest and most stay-at- home began to hear queer tales;
and those whose business took them to the borders saw strange things.
The conversation in The Green Dragon at Bywater, one evening in the
spring of Frodo’s fiftieth year, showed that even in the comfortable
heart of the Shire rumours had been heard, though most hobbits still
laughed at them.
     Sam Gamgee was sitting in one corner near the fire, and opposite him
was Ted Sandyman, the miller’s son; and there were various other
rustic hobbits listening to their talk.
     ‘Queer things you do hear these days, to be sure,’ said Sam.
     ‘Ah,’ said Ted, ‘you do, if you listen. But I can hear fireside-tales
and children’s stories at home, if I want to.’
     ‘No doubt you can,’ retorted Sam, ‘and I daresay there’s more truth in
some of them than you reckon. Who invented the stories anyway? Take
dragons now.’
     ‘No thank ’ee,’ said Ted, ‘I won’t. I heard tell of them when I was a
youngster, but there’s no call to believe in them now. There’s only
one Dragon in Bywater, and that’s Green,’ he said, getting a general
laugh.