Хоббит
A Short Rest
Tea-timehadlonggoneby,anditseemedsupper-timewouldsoondothesame.Thereweremothsflutteringabout,andthelightbecameverydim,forthemoonhadnotrisen.Bilbo’sponybegantostumbleoverrootsandstones.TheycametotheedgeofasteepfallinthegroundsosuddenlythatGandalfshorsenearlyslippeddowntheslope."Hereitisatlast!"hecalled,andtheothersgatheredroundhimandlookedovertheedge.Theysawavalleyfarbelow.Theycouldhearthevoiceofhurryingwaterinrockybedatthebottom;thescentoftreeswasintheair;andtherewasalightonthevalley-sideacrossthewater.Bilboneverforgotthewaytheyslitheredandslippedintheduskdownthesteepzig-zagpathintothesecretvalleyofRivendell.Theairgrewwarmerastheygotlower,andthesmellofthepine-treesmadehimdrowsy,sothateverynowandagainhenoddedandnearlyfelloff,orbumpedhisnoseonthepony’sneck.Theirspiritsroseastheywentdownanddown.Thetreeschangedtobeechandoak,andhirewasacomfortablefeelinginthetwilight.Thelastgreenhadalmostfadedoutofthegrass,whentheycameatlengthtoanopengladenotfarabovethebanksofthestream.
"Hrnmm!itsmellslikeelves!"thoughtBilbo,andhelookedupatthestars.Theywereburningbrightandblue.Justthentherecameaburstofsonglikelaughterinthetrees:
"O!Whatareyoudoing,
Andwhereareyougoing?
Yourponiesneedshoeing!
Theriverisflowing!
O!tra-la-la-lally
heredowninthevalley!
