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many partings 1291
papers and pens and pencils; but Bilbo was sitting in a chair
before a small bright fire. He looked very old, but peaceful,
and sleepy.
He opened his eyes and looked up as they came in. ‘Hullo,
hullo!’ he said. ‘So you’ve come back? And tomorrow’s my
birthday, too. How clever of you! Do you know, I shall be
one hundred and twenty-nine? And in one year more, if I am
spared, I shall equal the Old Took. I should like to beat him;
but we shall see.’
After the celebration of Bilbo’s birthday the four hobbits
stayed in Rivendell for some days, and they sat much with
their old friend, who spent most of his time now in his room,
except at meals. For these he was still very punctual as a rule,
and he seldom failed to wake up in time for them. Sitting
round the fire they told him in turn all that they could remember
of their journeys and adventures. At first he pretended to
take some notes; but he often fell asleep; and when he woke
he would say: ‘How splendid! How wonderful! But where
were we?’ Then they went on with the story from the point
where he had begun to nod.
The only part that seemed really to rouse him and hold his
attention was the account of the crowning and marriage of
Aragorn. ‘I was invited to the wedding, of course,’ he said.
‘And I have waited for it long enough. But somehow, when
it came to it, I found I had so much to do here; and packing
is such a bother.’
When nearly a fortnight had passed Frodo looked out of
his window and saw that there had been a frost in the night,
and the cobwebs were like white nets. Then suddenly he knew
that he must go, and say good-bye to Bilbo. The weather was
still calm and fair, after one of the most lovely summers that
people could remember; but October had come, and it must
break soon and begin to rain and blow again. And there was
still a very long way to go. Yet it was not really the thought
of the weather that stirred him. He had a feeling that it was