Hullo! You just interrupted my writing for my book, but please! Please sit down for a few minutes, and I can get you a cup of tea if you’d like. It’s just that I heard that you’ve been interested in what us Hobbits are all about. Ahh, but we are interesting creatures, and I must say there is more to us than meets the eye.

Hmm, well I guess I must start from the beginning. Although much of our beginning hardly goes further back than our Wandering Days. The earliest tales I know of is when we dwelled in the upper vales of the Great River Anduin -- between Greenwood the Great and the Misty Mountains. We had our own language then, so it was after those two Hobbits from my Fallohide strain, Marcho and Blanco, brought us across the Brandywine River that we began speaking in the Common Speech, or the Westron, as we know it.

It was from there that we began our lingerings in the North-West of the Old World, just east of the Sea. Oh, please don't make me speak of that Sea that fades off into the West. Normally, we don't take too well to water. Most of us don't know how to swim! Instead, I’d say most of us prefer the art of disappearing swiftly and silently whenever we see someone or something suspicious, like the Big Folk, or the Dùnedain, who used to dwell here among us until they dwindled in number. But once they did, that was when we all began to establish our first well-ordered communities and learn our letters after the manner of the Big Folk. Most of those earlier settlements have either been forgotten or have disappeared. But some Men are still found in a few of our original settlements, like in Bree or in the Chetwood. And no, our swift runnings are not magic; it’s a Hobbit trait that has passed down among us due to lots and lots of practice, heredity, and professional skill. I quite prefer it myself. The Ring seemed to help me a lot with that task!

And it is our Stoor strain that prefer to live upon river banks and flat lands, unlike the rest of us. Poor Mrs. Drogo Baggins, Frodo’s mother! She drownded. And they do take to water easier than the rest of us. A queer type of Hobbit, they are, and not too shy of Men. At least my Fallohide strain has had a bit more sense. We prefer our woodlands and trees, and we take to the elves easier—and to our credit, I think. Not many of all my Hobbit kind have a love for learning, save those in our older and prouder families who can actually read. Such as I. We study books and gather reports from distant lands to improve our learning. We have a love for language, song, and wooden handicrafts, just as our Wood Elves here do. Perhaps that is often why we are selected as leaders or chieftains for all of our Hobbit kinds. We have that sense of the elves! At least that is what I think.

So for me to explain the third strain of Hobbits! The Harfoots. Oh, they are too queer a folk. They prefer to live upon highlands and hillsides, and they have many dealings with the dwarves. I think it should not be so not for me. I still remember when I accompanied those twelve dwarves to the Lonely Mountain, then to Lakeside. They ended up being quite the company, yes! Thorin was a good lad. But I think Gandalf should have asked a Harfoot Hobbit to go with them. It certainly would have worked out a little easier!

Oh, is my smoke bothering you? Sorry, I can put my pipe out. Many of us do love smoking our herbs and leaves that we cultivate ourselves. All of us have a joy in all things growing. We love our good-tilled earth and our well-ordered and well-farmed countrysides. We prefer them. Perhaps that is why we often dress in bright colours, such as yellows and greens, and why we rarely wear shoes. Our clothes reflect the beauties of the earth around us that we love so much. Some of us do wear shoes, yes, but I dare say certainly not all. The feel of the earth underneath our feet is a good comfort.

And my pipeweed ... Well, there are all different sorts, but the Old Toby, the Longbottom Leaf, and our Southern Star are our most common and most-enjoyed. They are our different types of tobacco that more Hobbit men than Hobbit women smoke. Though I did see Mrs. Melilot Hornblower smoke quite the rose-shaped smoke ring just the other day ... Smoking here is quite the art. We sometimes have smoke-ring contests. It truly is an art we invented ourselves. So don’t let the Big Folk tell you any differently. I must warn you on that one.

Ahh, ‘tis our peaceful life in the Shire. On our farms, the most we know of machines is our forge bellows, the hand-looms, or our watermills. We have started building homes out of wood, brick, or stone, usually favoured by our millers, ropers, smiths, and cartwrights, and we have always had sheds or worksops outside of our Hobbit holes.

Only the poorest or the richest still stick to their smials. Brandy Hall is the largest smial I have ever seen and where generations and generations of Hobbit relatives live. It is so elaborate and with so many rooms, it is like a maze. So we are good with our hands and we do love learning of our genealogies that we consider it important to know who we are related to and how – but I admit we would rather put our hands to foods and ales, and throw parties for each other so that we may eat merrily and enjoy everyone’s company!

Many say we are a hospitable race, and I must agree. We do love our laughter and story-telling, and the giving away of presents. And so whenever we receive them, we could never turn them down even if they are mathoms that have been passed down for generations. They are of little use but are certainly reminders of our Hobbit past. And for that, I love giving them away for others to enjoy!

Gosh, I am getting hungry for my afternoon tea. You are certainly welcome to join me. We do have at least our six meals a day, and more if we can. But that does not mean we are lazy and sit around all day! Haha, we do do our work, and I have known of ancestors and friends who are excellent bowmen. I remember the stories of when we helped the Big Folk fight against the Witch-Lord of Angmar at Fornost a long time ago.

You look at me as if you don’t believe me. It is true, though. We aren’t very war-like except in cases of being obliged to for others. In fact, weapons here are regarded more as trophies on our walls than to be put to actual use. We may not have much a government either, but after our high king of Fornost here in Beleriand an age ago we asked for Thains to rise up and lead us. The position has almost always been held by a Took since they are of a wealthy and numerous family. Yes, Tooks are Fallohides as well! Today, the “thain” is a mere nominal title that is still of special rank. But ahhh. That is why we have had our one real official – the Mayor. We elect one every seven years at the Free Fair on the White Downs during Midsummer, and who always rules from Michel Delving after the election. He takes care of the Watch and of Post Office matters. Good lads, they always have been! I am proud of our Samwise. He is truly wise, and can handle the job of being First Shirriff and Post Master.

Uh oh. I still have to finish my book! I always keep forgetting. I hope you enjoyed me talking along so and the breads and cheeses I just gave you. Drop by again whenever you feel like it! I do like talking to those who are curious about us. Excuse me. I think I still have more to write...