Sam
I know what you're all thinking. Simple Sam, he couldnt write anything, and if he did it'd be a load of rubbish, a story that Bilbo could write better whilst standing on his head. But its not, you see. Even though people think I'm simple, which is true up to a point, when it comes to writing I find it easy. And I don't write a load of garbage either. I write poems, stories, songs-admittedly they're never as good as Bilbo or Mr Frodo could write, but its the best that I can do, and I like them. A few years ago, I'd have been writing about elves, far-away lands, mystical creatures, talking trees-things that I'd heard existed and marvelled at the thought of them. Now that I've seen them, and a good deal more unusual things, I no longer have to make up stories. I can tell you the truth about them. For you see, I mean to write about me and Mr Frodo's journey from the quiet Shire to the deadly Mordor. I know Mr Frodo wrote his account, but I decided long ago that I was determined to write it all down one day. Mr Frodo has been away in the Gray Havens for a good many years now, and it does not look like he is to return...so now I will tell my story.
Chapter One-The Beginning Of The Journey
Bilbo's birthday party. What a night it had been! Good food, freshly-brewed ale (made by my old dad), laughter, merriment, twinking stars, music, dancing. The fireworks were spectacular, and Gandalf cuaght two young hobbits, Merry and Pippin, setting them off on their own. That was the first night I danced with the girl of my dreams-Rosie. She was as beautiful then as she is now, as she sits opposite me in a chair telling our children a story. The most unforgettable thing about that night would have to be Bilbo's disappearance. I must say, he took us all completely by shock! One minute, he was standing up there, happy as can be, thanking all his guests, next minute-gone! Hobbits are the simplest of creatures, and to us, it was mind- boggling. Where had he vanished to? Though I'm not the brightest of hobbits, I had a notion that he was now back at his hobbit-hole, Bag End. Gandalf, a wizard and a good friend of Bilbos, had also disappeared, though quietly, and not many noticed. I said, "Right, I'm away 'ome, can't be doin' with all this magic nonsense" and managed to get away. Quietly, I walked towards Bag End. I could hear voices coming from inside Bag End-not Bilbo's, mind you, but Mr. Frodo and Gandalf. I hid underneath an open window, tried to be as quiet as possible, and listened. Well, what they were talking about, it scared me, let me tell you. Never had I heard talk of such evil-Sauron back, Mount Doom, the end of the world! And the conversation kept going back to this Ring that Bilbo had left-supposedly a magic one, from what I managed to hear. All the time, sitting under that window, I was fair pleased with myself. Here I was, hidden away from the great wizard Gandalf! And I got to hear a good deal of information that I knew would not be public knowledge, something that rarely happened to someone like me. Then it happened. It couldnt be helped. Its right uncomfortable, crouching on your knees like that. Though I was used to it from my gardening and all, it still got the better of me, and I shifted my weight-and considerable weight it was. My side brushed against one of Bilbo's many bushes, and the leaves rustled. I froze. Maybe they hadnt heard. Bag End was deadly quiet now. I started to crawl away on my hands and knees, when a great weight hit me on the head. "Oh!" I exclaimed, and was then dragged inside onto a table top. Gandalf stood over me, and I'd never seen him so angry in all my life. He roared at me for a good few minutes, asking what I'd heard. I told him the truth-well you dont wanna lie to a wizard now, do'ya?They'll turn you into toads, frogs, or sumthin horrible! Eventually, he calmed down, and told me that since I knew so much, I was to accompany Mr. Frodo on his journey. I was not entirely sure where exactly we were going, but I was thrilled none the less. I respected and admired Mr. Frodo , and I would do anything for him. Little did I know just how much I was going to have to do.
I know what you're all thinking. Simple Sam, he couldnt write anything, and if he did it'd be a load of rubbish, a story that Bilbo could write better whilst standing on his head. But its not, you see. Even though people think I'm simple, which is true up to a point, when it comes to writing I find it easy. And I don't write a load of garbage either. I write poems, stories, songs-admittedly they're never as good as Bilbo or Mr Frodo could write, but its the best that I can do, and I like them. A few years ago, I'd have been writing about elves, far-away lands, mystical creatures, talking trees-things that I'd heard existed and marvelled at the thought of them. Now that I've seen them, and a good deal more unusual things, I no longer have to make up stories. I can tell you the truth about them. For you see, I mean to write about me and Mr Frodo's journey from the quiet Shire to the deadly Mordor. I know Mr Frodo wrote his account, but I decided long ago that I was determined to write it all down one day. Mr Frodo has been away in the Gray Havens for a good many years now, and it does not look like he is to return...so now I will tell my story.
Chapter One-The Beginning Of The Journey
Bilbo's birthday party. What a night it had been! Good food, freshly-brewed ale (made by my old dad), laughter, merriment, twinking stars, music, dancing. The fireworks were spectacular, and Gandalf cuaght two young hobbits, Merry and Pippin, setting them off on their own. That was the first night I danced with the girl of my dreams-Rosie. She was as beautiful then as she is now, as she sits opposite me in a chair telling our children a story. The most unforgettable thing about that night would have to be Bilbo's disappearance. I must say, he took us all completely by shock! One minute, he was standing up there, happy as can be, thanking all his guests, next minute-gone! Hobbits are the simplest of creatures, and to us, it was mind- boggling. Where had he vanished to? Though I'm not the brightest of hobbits, I had a notion that he was now back at his hobbit-hole, Bag End. Gandalf, a wizard and a good friend of Bilbos, had also disappeared, though quietly, and not many noticed. I said, "Right, I'm away 'ome, can't be doin' with all this magic nonsense" and managed to get away. Quietly, I walked towards Bag End. I could hear voices coming from inside Bag End-not Bilbo's, mind you, but Mr. Frodo and Gandalf. I hid underneath an open window, tried to be as quiet as possible, and listened. Well, what they were talking about, it scared me, let me tell you. Never had I heard talk of such evil-Sauron back, Mount Doom, the end of the world! And the conversation kept going back to this Ring that Bilbo had left-supposedly a magic one, from what I managed to hear. All the time, sitting under that window, I was fair pleased with myself. Here I was, hidden away from the great wizard Gandalf! And I got to hear a good deal of information that I knew would not be public knowledge, something that rarely happened to someone like me. Then it happened. It couldnt be helped. Its right uncomfortable, crouching on your knees like that. Though I was used to it from my gardening and all, it still got the better of me, and I shifted my weight-and considerable weight it was. My side brushed against one of Bilbo's many bushes, and the leaves rustled. I froze. Maybe they hadnt heard. Bag End was deadly quiet now. I started to crawl away on my hands and knees, when a great weight hit me on the head. "Oh!" I exclaimed, and was then dragged inside onto a table top. Gandalf stood over me, and I'd never seen him so angry in all my life. He roared at me for a good few minutes, asking what I'd heard. I told him the truth-well you dont wanna lie to a wizard now, do'ya?They'll turn you into toads, frogs, or sumthin horrible! Eventually, he calmed down, and told me that since I knew so much, I was to accompany Mr. Frodo on his journey. I was not entirely sure where exactly we were going, but I was thrilled none the less. I respected and admired Mr. Frodo , and I would do anything for him. Little did I know just how much I was going to have to do.