hole-dwellers.
Put us in amongst the four, next to Man (the Big People) and you’ve got it.’
‘Hm! Not bad, not bad,’ said Treebeard. ‘That would do. So you live in holes, eh? It sounds very right and proper. Who calls
you
hobbits
, though? That does not sound Elvish to me. Elves made all the old words: they began it.’
‘Nobody else calls us hobbits; we call ourselves that,’ said Pippin.
‘Hoom, hmm! Come now! Not so hasty! You call
yourselves
hobbits? But you should not go telling just anybody. You’ll be letting out your own right names if you’re not careful.’
‘We aren’t careful about that,’ said Merry. ‘As a matter of fact I’m a Brandybuck, Meriadoc Brandybuck, though most people
call me just Merry.’
‘And I’m a Took, Peregrin Took, but I’m generally called Pippin, or even Pip.’
‘Hm, but you
are
hasty folk, I see,’ said Treebeard. ‘I am honoured by your confidence; but you should not be too free all at once. There
are Ents and Ents, you know; or there are Ents and things that look like Ents but ain’t, as you might say. I’ll call you Merry
and Pippin, if you please – nice names. For I am not going to tell you
my
name, not yet at any rate.’ A queer half-knowing, half-humorous look came with a green flicker into his eyes. ‘For one thing
it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so
my
name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you
might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time to say anything in it, because we do not say anything in
it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.
‘But now,’ and the eyes became very bright and ‘present’, seeming to grow smaller and almost sharp, ‘what is going on? What
are you doing in it all? I can see and hear (
and
smell
and
feel) a great deal from this, from this, from this
a-lalla-lalla-rumba-kamanda-lind-or-burúmë
. Excuse me: that is a part of my name for it; I do not know what the word is in the outside languages: you know, the thing
we are on, where I stand and look out on fine mornings, and think about the Sun, and the grass beyond the wood, and the horses,
and the clouds, and the unfolding of the world. What is going on? What is Gandalf up to? And these –
burárum
,’ he made a deep rumbling noise like a discord on a great organ – ‘these Orcs, and young Saruman down at Isengard? I like
news. But not too quick now.’
‘There is quite a lot going on,’ said Merry; ‘and even if we tried to be quick, it would take a long time to tell. But you
told us not to be hasty. Ought we to tell you anything so soon? Would you think it rude, if we asked what you are going to
do with us, and which side you are on? And did you know Gandalf?’
‘Yes, I do know him: the only wizard that really cares about trees,’ said Treebeard. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Yes,’ said Pippin sadly, ‘we did. He was a great friend, and he was our guide.’
‘Then I can answer your other questions,’ said Treebeard. ‘I am not going to do anything
with
you: not if you mean by that ‘‘do something
to
you’’ without your leave. We might do some things together. I don’t know about
sides.
go my own way; but your way may go along with mine for a while. But you speak of Master Gandalf, as if he was in a story
that had come to an end.’
‘Yes, we do,’ said Pippin sadly. ‘The story seems to be going on, but I am afraid Gandalf has fallen out of it.’
‘Hoo, come now!’ said Treebeard. ‘Hoom, hm, ah well.’ He paused, looking long at the hobbits. ‘Hoom, ah, well I do not know
what to say. Come now!’
‘If you would like to hear more,’ said Merry, ‘we will tell you. But it will take some time. Wouldn’t you like to put us down?
Couldn’t we sit here together in the sun, while it lasts? You must be getting tired of holding us
Put us in amongst the four, next to Man (the Big People) and you’ve got it.’
‘Hm! Not bad, not bad,’ said Treebeard. ‘That would do. So you live in holes, eh? It sounds very right and proper. Who calls
you
hobbits
, though? That does not sound Elvish to me. Elves made all the old words: they began it.’
‘Nobody else calls us hobbits; we call ourselves that,’ said Pippin.
‘Hoom, hmm! Come now! Not so hasty! You call
yourselves
hobbits? But you should not go telling just anybody. You’ll be letting out your own right names if you’re not careful.’
‘We aren’t careful about that,’ said Merry. ‘As a matter of fact I’m a Brandybuck, Meriadoc Brandybuck, though most people
call me just Merry.’
‘And I’m a Took, Peregrin Took, but I’m generally called Pippin, or even Pip.’
‘Hm, but you
are
hasty folk, I see,’ said Treebeard. ‘I am honoured by your confidence; but you should not be too free all at once. There
are Ents and Ents, you know; or there are Ents and things that look like Ents but ain’t, as you might say. I’ll call you Merry
and Pippin, if you please – nice names. For I am not going to tell you
my
name, not yet at any rate.’ A queer half-knowing, half-humorous look came with a green flicker into his eyes. ‘For one thing
it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so
my
name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you
might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time to say anything in it, because we do not say anything in
it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.
‘But now,’ and the eyes became very bright and ‘present’, seeming to grow smaller and almost sharp, ‘what is going on? What
are you doing in it all? I can see and hear (
and
smell
and
feel) a great deal from this, from this, from this
a-lalla-lalla-rumba-kamanda-lind-or-burúmë
. Excuse me: that is a part of my name for it; I do not know what the word is in the outside languages: you know, the thing
we are on, where I stand and look out on fine mornings, and think about the Sun, and the grass beyond the wood, and the horses,
and the clouds, and the unfolding of the world. What is going on? What is Gandalf up to? And these –
burárum
,’ he made a deep rumbling noise like a discord on a great organ – ‘these Orcs, and young Saruman down at Isengard? I like
news. But not too quick now.’
‘There is quite a lot going on,’ said Merry; ‘and even if we tried to be quick, it would take a long time to tell. But you
told us not to be hasty. Ought we to tell you anything so soon? Would you think it rude, if we asked what you are going to
do with us, and which side you are on? And did you know Gandalf?’
‘Yes, I do know him: the only wizard that really cares about trees,’ said Treebeard. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Yes,’ said Pippin sadly, ‘we did. He was a great friend, and he was our guide.’
‘Then I can answer your other questions,’ said Treebeard. ‘I am not going to do anything
with
you: not if you mean by that ‘‘do something
to
you’’ without your leave. We might do some things together. I don’t know about
sides.
go my own way; but your way may go along with mine for a while. But you speak of Master Gandalf, as if he was in a story
that had come to an end.’
‘Yes, we do,’ said Pippin sadly. ‘The story seems to be going on, but I am afraid Gandalf has fallen out of it.’
‘Hoo, come now!’ said Treebeard. ‘Hoom, hm, ah well.’ He paused, looking long at the hobbits. ‘Hoom, ah, well I do not know
what to say. Come now!’
‘If you would like to hear more,’ said Merry, ‘we will tell you. But it will take some time. Wouldn’t you like to put us down?
Couldn’t we sit here together in the sun, while it lasts? You must be getting tired of holding us
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