Jim Ware

TRUE?

Bilbo went to sleep with [the dwarves’ song] in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams.
—THE HOBBIT, CHAPTER 1,
“AN UNEXPECTED PARTY”
Snuggled down beneath the bedclothes, staring sleepless into the darkness, Bilbo put forth one last effort to make sense of the absurd events of the past six hours.
“Dwarves!” he fumed. “Dwarvish racket! Dwarvish talk of journeys and dragons and treasures and burglaries! Dwarves on the doorstep and dwarves in the parlor! Dwarves demanding seed-cakes and raspberry tarts with their tea—not to mention my best ale!” He snorted in disgust. What would his father, the respectable Bungo Baggins, have said? “It’s a wonder the pantry wasn’t left completely bare!”
“Ah! But then you’ve been known to hobnob with dwarves before this,” cautioned a voice from the other side of his brain—a voice suspiciously reminiscent of his grandfather, the scandalous Old Took. “In fact, you’ve acquired something of a reputation for associating with outlandish folk of all sorts. It’s rumored you’ve even been seen with elves.”
“That’s beside the point,” protested the practical Baggins part of him. “It was thoughtless of Gandalf. Not that I want to appear inhospitable. But an uninvited crowd at tea-time is quite enough to push any hobbit beyond his limits!”
“Limits?” The Took side of him laughed softly. “What do you know of limits? How will you ever know if you don’t step outside the door and leave your pantry behind?”
A breath of wind caught the curtains. Outside the crickets had raised a chorus in the hedge. Was it really a hint of elvish music that Bilbo heard wafting on the breeze? A scent of spring and wakening earth and ap