Властелин колец: Братство кольца
At the Sign of the Prancing Pony
Abovethearchtherewasalamp,andbeneathitswungalargesignboard:afatwhiteponyreareduponitshindlegs.Overthedoorwaspaintedinwhiteletters:theprancingponybybarlimanbutterbur.Manyofthelowerwindowsshowedlightsbehindthickcurtains.
Astheyhesitatedoutsideinthegloom,someonebegansingingamerrysonginside,andmanycheerfulvoicesjoinedloudlyinthechorus.Theylistenedtothisencouragingsoundforamomentandthengotofftheirponies.Thesongendedandtherewasaburstoflaughterandclapping.
Theyledtheirponiesunderthearch,andleavingthemstandingintheyardtheyclimbedupthesteps.Frodowentforwardandnearlybumpedintoashortfatmanwithabaldheadandaredface.Hehadawhiteapronon,andwasbustlingoutofonedoorandinthroughanother,carryingatrayladenwithfullmugs.
‘Canwe——’beganFrodo.
‘Halfaminute,ifyouplease!’shoutedthemanoverhisshoulder,andvanishedintoababelofvoicesandacloudofsmoke.Inamomenthewasoutagain,wipinghishandsonhisapron.
‘Goodevening,littlemaster!’hesaid,bendingdown.‘Whatmayyoubewanting?’
‘Bedsforfour,andstablingforfiveponies,ifthatcanbemanaged.AreyouMr.Butterbur?’
‘That’sright!Barlimanismyname.BarlimanButterburatyourservice!You’refromtheShire,eh?’hesaid,andthensuddenlyheclappedhishandtohisforehead,asiftryingtoremembersomething.‘Hobbits!’hecried.‘Nowwhatdoesthatremindmeof?MightIaskyournames,sirs?’
‘Mr.TookandMr.
