Page 141 - The Hobbit

The streams shall run in gladness,

The lakes shall shine and burn,
And sorrow fail and sadness
At the Mountain-king's return!

So they sang, or very like that, only there was a great deal more of it, and there

was much shouting as well as the music of harps and of fiddles mixed up with it.
Indeed such excitement had not been known in the town in the memory of the
oldest grandfather. The Wood-elves themselves began to wonder greatly and even
to be afraid. They did not know of course how Thorin had escaped, and they

began to think their king might have made a serious mistake. As for the Master he
saw there was nothing else for it but to obey the general clamour, for the moment
at any rate, and to pretend to believe that Thorin was what he said. So he gave up

to him his own great chair and set Fili and Kili beside him in places of honour.
Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he
came in-no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way-was asked for in
the general bustle.

Soon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of
astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and pampered
in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. A large house was given up to

Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds
sat outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any dwarf showed so much as his
nose.
Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke

confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and of cargoes of rich presents
coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master
and they did not particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were
well contented and they quickly grew fat and strong again. Indeed within a week

they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colours, with
beards combed and trimmed, and proud steps. Thorin looked and walked as if his
kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped up into little pieces.
Then, as he had said, the dwarves' good feeling towards the little hobbit grew

stronger every day. There were no more groans or grumbles. They drank his
health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which
was just as well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten

the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had besides a