Read The Hobbit for Free Online

get your note until after 10.45 to be precise.”
    “Don’t be precise,” said Dwalin, “and don’t worry! You will have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs, and a good many other
     things, before you get to the journey’s end. As for a hat, I have got a spare hood and cloak in my luggage.”
    That’s how they all came to start, jogging off from the inn one fine morning just before May, on laden ponies; and Bilbo was
     wearing a dark-green hood (a little weather-stained) and a dark-green cloak borrowed from Dwalin. They were too large for
     him, and he looked rather comic. What his father Bungo would have thought of him, I daren’t think. His only comfort was he
     couldn’t be mistaken for a dwarf, as he had no beard.
    They had not been riding very long, when up came Gandalf very splendid on a white horse. He had brought a lot of pocket-handkerchiefs,
     and Bilbo’s pipe and tobacco. So after that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they
     rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. These didn’t come quite as often as Bilbo would have liked
     them, but still he began to feel that adventures were not so bad after all.
    At first they had passed through hobbit-lands, a wide respectable country inhabited by decent folk, with good roads, an inn
     or two, and now and then a dwarf or a farmer ambling by on business. Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely,
     and sang songs Bilbo had never heard before. Now they had gone on far into the Lone-lands, where there were no people left,
     no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher, dark with trees. On
     some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May can be, can be, even in merry tales, but
     now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had been obliged to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry.
    “To think it will soon be June!” grumbled Bilbo, as he splashed along behind the others in a very muddy track. It was after
     tea-time; it was pouring with rain, and had been all day; his hood was dripping into his eyes, his cloak was full of water;
     the pony was tired and stumbled on stones; the others were too grumpy to talk. “And I’m sure the rain has got into the dry
     clothes and into the food-bags,” thought Bilbo. “Bother burgling and everything to do with it! I wish I was at home in my
     nice hole by the fire, with the kettle just beginning to sing!” It was not the last time that he wished that!
    Still the dwarves jogged on, never turning round or taking any notice of the hobbit. Somewhere behind the grey clouds the
     sun must have gone down, for it began to get dark as they went down into a deep valley with a river at the bottom. Wind got
     up, and willows along its banks bent and sighed. Fortunately the road went over an ancient stone bridge, for the river, swollen
     with the rains, came rushing down from the hills and mountains in the north.
    It was nearly night when they had crossed over. The wind broke up the grey clouds, and a wandering moon appeared above the
     hills between the flying rags. Then they stopped, and Thorin muttered something about supper, “and where shall we get a dry
     patch to sleep on?” Not until then did they notice that Gandalf was missing. So far he had come all the way with them, never saying if he was
     in the adventure or merely keeping them company for a while. He had eaten most, talked most, and laughed most. But now he
     simply was not there at all!
    “Just when a wizard would have been most useful, too,” groaned Dori and Nori (who shared the hobbit’s views about regular
     meals, plenty and often).
    They decided in the end that they would have to camp where they were. They moved to a clump of trees, and though it was