In a hole in the ground, there lived two hobbits. Not a nasty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and a wet oozy smell, nor a dry, bare, sandy hole, with nothing in it to sit down on or eat: It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort.
This hole, or as a smial, as it was called, had, a perfectly round door like the top of a barrel, painted green, with a shiny, yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbits were fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for these hobbits: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (they had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over their garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.
These hobbits were very well-to-do hobbits, brother and sister, and their name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how two Baggins' had an adventure, and found themselves doing and saying things altogether unexpected. They may have lost the neighbours' respect, but they gained—well, you will see whether they gained anything in the end.
The mother of these two siblings - of Bilbo and Cassia Baggins, that is- was the famous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbitlike about them, and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. Now Cassia, to the dread of her brother and the other Bagginses, took after her mother, in both looks and temperament. As round and small as any other hobbit, to be sure, with curls so dark they were nearly black, and eyes like bluebells. She had a penchant to get into terrible scrapes, whether by design or accident, no one could be sure. Bilbo was much more the picture of a proper Baggins, stout and sandy haired, solid and comfortable and respectable. Having no adventures and doing nothing unexpected. But people always supposed that deep down, there was something odd in him, from his Tookish side, that only needed a chance to come out. The chance never came until Bilbo was a grown up hobbit of fifty, and Cassia was an almost-grown-up hobbit of thirty-one. And it happened like this:
Bilbo and Cassia Baggins are out in the garden, enjoying the spring air and having the same argument they've had every morning for the last five years: whether and dwarf or an elf would be more interesting to meet.
"Elves have huge libraries," Bilbo says, pointing at Cassia with his pipe. She rolls her eyes and pulls a weed up with particular viciousness
"We don't know that dwarves don't." She replies, waving it at him, spraying soil all over, "In fact, we know so little about dwarves which makes them interesting!"
"Elves are great healers!"
"Dwarves are master craftsmen!"
They're so engrossed in their discussion (argument) that they don't notice the approach of a stranger until a shadow falls over them.
The both look up. And up. And up. Over tattered gray robes and a long, scraggly gray beard, into an elderly face with pale blue eyes, under a tall, conical blue hat. Bilbo blinks. Cassia stares.
"Good morning," they say in unison.
"What do you mean?" The stranger asks, "do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"
"All of them at once I suppose" Bilbo says. Cassia nods in agreement, still dumbstruck. Bilbo continues, as he is wont to do, "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you don't have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!" He sits down on a seat by his door (for he had been standing near Cassia, who is still crouched in the daffodil beds) crosses his legs, and blows out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sails up into the air without breaking and floats away over The Hill. "Very pretty!" says the stranger. "But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."
Cassia's face lights up with a brilliant smile and she scrambles to her feet, showering dirt and weeds all over the path. "An adventure?!" she cries.
"I should think so—in these parts!" Says Bilbo at nearly the exact same time, "We are plain, quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them," (This last bit is a jibe directed at his sister) Bilbo sticks one thumb behind his suspenders, and blows out another even bigger smoke-ring. Then he takes out his morning letters, and begins to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man, and probably hoping his sister would take the hint.
"That's not true!" Cassia shoots back, "I want an adventure!"
"No, you wouldn't," Bilbo says. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you. Good Morning!"
"To think," the stranger says, "that I would live to be 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's children as if I were selling buttons at the door."
"Are you?" Cassia asks. "Selling buttons, I mean."
The stranger blinks. "No."
"I beg your pardon?" Bilbo splutters.
"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins, and not entirely for the better."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Well, you know my name," The stranger says, "Though you don't remember I belong to it. Cassia, I suppose, is just a bit too young. I'm Gandalf!"
Silence.
"And Gandalf means… me…"
Bilbo shifts, then realization dawns on his face. "G…. Gandalf! The Wandering Wizard. Who made such wonderful fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve." He laughs. Then frowns. "I had no idea you were still in business."
Gandalf looks put upon. "And where else should I be?"
Bilbo does not answer.
"Well," Cassia says, "dead, I suppose. Or something. You do look very old, mister."
Gandalf's lips twitch. Bilbo kicks his sister in the shin. "Ouch!"
"Well," Gandalf says, his eyes twinkling, "I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, Bilbo Baggins. Even if it's only my fireworks." He nods and points at Bilbo. "It'll be very good for you. And most amusing for me." He glances at Cassia, his lips twitching again. "Most amusing indeed. I'll call the others."
Bilbo splutters. "No. No!"
Cassia grins. "Yes!'
"No." Bilbo says, dragging her towards the door. "We do not want any adventures here, thank you."
"We do!"
"No, we don't! Not today. Not ever. No. I suggest you try over the hill or across the water. Good morning."
With that, the older hobbit bundles the lass into Bag End and slams shut the green door.
Cassia stomps her foot. "No fair! I want to adventure!"
Bilbo blocks her way to the door. "No, no you don't!"
"Yes I do! Don't tell me what I do and don't want!"
Bilbo locks the door. "I'm telling you no!"
"You aren't my parent!"
"Maybe so! But I'm in charge of you until you come of age! So if in two years you want to go gallivanting off, be my guest! But not today and not while I have a say! ="
"You're being a real arsemunch, Bilbo Baggins!" Cassia shrieks.
"And you're being stupidly reckless, Cassia Baggins! Adventures are dangerous!"
Cassia opens her mouth again, but he slams his hand over it and points to the door, from which is coming a faint scratching noise. Bilbo drags her over and peers out the window.
He's met by a pale, glaring blue eye, and jumps back, knocking Cassia over.
"Hey!" She says.
"Hush!" Bilbo hisses. He hurries to the kitchen window and watches as the wizard walks off. "How terrible," he sighs.
"I thought he was interesting!" Cassia says. "is he really a wizard?"
Bilbo sighs. "I don't know, Cassia. He's very odd and a little frightening, that's for sure."
"I liked him."
"Of course you did."
