Властелин колец: Братство кольца
At the Sign of the Prancing Pony
‘WherewasI?’saidthelandlord,pausingandsnappinghisfingers.‘Ah,yes!OldGandalf.Threemonthsbackhewalkedrightintomyroomwithoutaknock.Barley,hesays,I’moffinthemorning.Willyoudosomethingforme?You’veonlytonameit,Isaid.I’minahurry,saidhe,andI’venotimemyself,butIwantamessagetooktotheShire.Haveyouanyoneyoucansend,andtrusttogo?Icanfindsomeone,Isaid,tomorrow,maybe,orthedayafter.Makeittomorrow,hesays,andthenhegavemealetter.
‘It’saddressedplainenough,’saidMr.Butterbur,producingaletterfromhispocket,andreadingouttheaddressslowlyandproudly(hevaluedhisreputationasaletteredman):
Mr.FRODOBAGGINS,BAGEND,HOBBITONintheSHIRE.
‘AletterformefromGandalf!’criedFrodo.
‘Ah!’saidMr.Butterbur.‘ThenyourrightnameisBaggins?’
‘Itis,’saidFrodo,‘andyouhadbettergivemethatletteratonce,andexplainwhyyouneversentit.That’swhatyoucametotellme,Isuppose,thoughyou’vetakenalongtimetocometothepoint.’
PoorMr.Butterburlookedtroubled.‘You’reright,master,’hesaid,‘andIbegyourpardon.AndI’mmortalafraidofwhatGandalfwillsay,ifharmcomesofit.ButIdidn’tkeepitbacka-purpose.Iputitbysafe.ThenIcouldn’tfindnobodywillingtogototheShirenextday,northedayafter,andnoneofmyownfolkweretospare;andthenonethingafteranotherdroveitoutofmymind.I’mabusyman.
