{"product_id":"the-fellowship-of-the-ring-isbn-9780345339706","title":"The Fellowship of the Ring","description":"\u003cb\u003eThe opening novel of The Lord of the Rings—the greatest fantasy epic of all time—which continues in \u003ci\u003eThe Two Towers \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e The Return of the King\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eNominated as one of America’s best-loved novels by PBS’s \u003ci\u003eThe Great American Read\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The dark, fearsome Ringwraiths are searching for a Hobbit. Frodo Baggins knows that they are seeking him and the Ring he bears—the Ring of Power that will enable evil Sauron to destroy all that is good in Middle-earth. Now it is up to Frodo and his faithful servant, Sam, with a small band of companions, to carry the Ring to the one place it can be destroyed: Mount Doom, in the very center of Sauron’s realm.“Filled with marvels and strange terrors . . . an extraordinary, distinguished piece of work.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—New York Herald Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eJohn Ronald Reuel Tolkien\u003c\/b\u003e was born on January 3, 1892, in Bloemfontein, South Africa. After serving in World War I, he embarked upon a distinguished academic career and was recognized as one of the finest philologists in the world. He was a professor of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford, a fellow of Pembroke College, and a fellow of Merton College until his retirement in 1959. He is, however, beloved throughout the world as the creator of Middle-earth and author of such classic works as \u003ci\u003eThe Hobbit \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003eThe Lord of the Rings. He died on September 2, 1973, at the age of eighty-one.\u003cb\u003eA LONG-EXPECTED PARTY \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would  shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence,  there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar,  and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable dis-  appearance and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels  had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk  might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And  if that was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at.  Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect on Mr. Baggins. At ninety he was  much the same as at fifty. At ninety-nine they began to call him well-preserved;  but unchanged would have been nearer the mark. There were some that shook their heads  and thought this was too much of a good thing; it seemed unfair that anyone should  possess (apparently) perpetual youth as well as (reputedly) inexhaustible wealth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘It will have to be paid for,’ they said. ‘It isn’t natural, and trouble will come  of it!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But so far trouble had not come; and as Mr. Baggins was generous with his  money, most people were willing to forgive him his oddities and his good fortune.  He remained on visiting terms with his relatives (except, of course, the Sackville-Bagginses),  and he had many devoted admirers among the hobbits of poor and unimportant families.  But he had no close friends, until some of his younger cousins began to grow up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The eldest of these, and Bilbo’s favourite, was young Frodo Baggins. When Bilbo  was ninety-nine he adopted Frodo as his heir, and brought him to live at Bag End;  and the hopes of the Sackville-Bagginses were finally dashed. Bilbo and Frodo happened  to have the same birthday, September 22nd. ‘You had better come and live here, Frodo  my lad,’ said Bilbo one day; ‘and then we can celebrate our birthday-parties comfortably  together.’ At that time Frodo was still in his tweens, as the hobbits called the  irresponsible twenties between childhood and coming of age at thirty-three.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Twelve  more years passed. Each year the Bagginses had given very lively combined birthday-parties  at Bag End; but now it was understood that something quite exceptional was being  planned for that autumn. Bilbo was going to be eleventy-one, 111, a rather curious  number, and a very respectable age for a hobbit (the Old Took himself had only reached  130); and Frodo was going to be thirty-three, 33, an important number: the date of  his ‘coming of age’.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tongues began to wag in Hobbiton and Bywater; and rumour of  the coming event travelled all over the Shire. The history and character of Mr. Bilbo  Baggins became once again the chief topic of conversation; and the older folk suddenly  found their reminiscences in welcome demand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No one had a more attentive audience  than old Ham Gamgee, commonly known as the Gaffer. He held forth at The Ivy Bush,  a small inn on the Bywater road; and he spoke with some authority, for he had tended  the garden at Bag End for forty years, and had helped old Holman in the same job  before that. Now that he was himself growing old and stiff in the joints, the job  was mainly carried on by his youngest son, Sam Gamgee. Both father and son were on  very friendly terms with Bilbo and Frodo. They lived on the Hill itself, in Number  3 Bagshot Row just below Bag End.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘A very nice well-spoken gentlehobbit is Mr. Bilbo,  as I’ve always said, the Gaffer declared. With perfect truth: for Bilbo was very  polite to him, calling him ‘Master Hamfast’, and consulting him constantly upon the  growing of vegetables—in the matter of ‘roots’, especially potatoes, the Gaffer was  recognized as the leading authority by all in the neighbourhood (including himself).\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘But what about this Frodo that lives with him?’ asked Old Noakes of Bywater. ‘Baggins  is his name, but he’s more than half a Brandybuck, they say. It beats me why any  Baggins of Hobbiton should go looking for a wife away there in Buckland, where folks  are so queer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘And no wonder they’re queer,’ put in Daddy Twofoot (the Gaffer’s  next-door neighbour), ‘if they live on the wrong side of the Brandywine River, and  right agin the Old Forest. That’s a dark bad place, if half the tales be true.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘You’ re right, Dad!’ said the Gaffer. ‘Not that the Brandybucks of Buckland live in the  Old Forest; but they’re a queer breed, seemingly. They fool about with boats on that  big river—and that isn’t natural. Small wonder that trouble came of it, I say. But  be that as it may, Mr. Frodo is as nice a young hobbit as you could wish to meet.  Very much like Mr. Bilbo, and in more than looks. After all his father was a Baggins.  A decent respectable hobbit was Mr. Drogo Baggins; there was never much to tell of  him, till he was drownded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘Drownded?’ said several voices. They had heard this  and other darker rumours before, of course; but hobbits have a passion for family  history, and they were ready to hear it again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘Well, so they say,’ said the Gaffer.  ‘You see: Mr. Drogo, he married poor Miss Primula Brandybuck. She was our Mr. Bilbo’ s first cousin on the mother’s side (her mother being the youngest of the Old Took’ s daughters); and Mr. Drogo was his second cousin. So Mr. Frodo is his first and  second cousin, once removed either way, as the saying is, if you follow me. And Mr.  Drogo was staying at Brandy Hall with his father-in-law, old Master Gorbadoc, as  he often did after his marriage (him being partial to his vittles, and old Gorbadoc  keeping a mighty generous table); and he went out boating on the Brandywine River;  and he and his wife were drownded, and poor Mr. Frodo only a child and all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘I’ve  heard they went on the water after dinner in the moonlight,’ said Old Noakes; ‘and  it was Drogo’s weight as sunk the boat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘And I heard she pushed him in, and he pulled  her in after him,’ said Sandyman, the Hobbiton miller.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘You shouldn’t listen to  all you hear, Sandyman,’ said the Gaffer, who did not much like the miller. ‘There  isn’t no call to go talking of pushing and pulling. Boats are quite tricky enough  for those that sit still without looking further for the cause of trouble. Anyway:  there was this Mr. Frodo left an orphan and stranded, as you might say, among those  queer Bucklanders, being brought up anyhow in Brandy Hall. A regular warren, by all  accounts. Old Master Gorbadoc never had fewer than a couple of hundred relations  in the place. Mr. Bilbo never did a kinder deed than when he brought the lad back  to live among decent folk.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘But I reckon it was a nasty shock for those Sackville-Bagginses. They thought they were going to get Bag End, that time when he went off  and was thought to be dead. And then he comes back and orders them off; and he goes  on living and living, and never looking a day older, bless him! And suddenly he produces  an heir, and has all the papers made out proper. The Sackville-Bagginses won’t never  see the inside of Bag End now, or it is to be hoped not.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘There’s a tidy bit of  money tucked away up there, I hear tell,’ said a stranger, a visitor on business  from Michel Delving in the Westfarthing. ‘All the top of your hill is full of tunnels  packed with chests of gold and silver, and jools, by what I’ve heard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘Then you’ ve heard more than I can speak to,’ answered the Gaffer. ‘I know nothing about jools.  Mr. Bilbo is free with his money, and there seems no lack of it; but I know of no  tunnel-making. I saw Mr. Bilbo when he came back, a matter of sixty years ago, when  I was a lad. I’d not long come prentice to old Holman (him being my dad’s cousin),  but he had me up at Bag End helping him to keep folks from trampling and trapessing  all over the garden while the sale was on. And in the middle of it all Mr. Bilbo  comes up the Hill with a pony and some mighty big bags and a couple of chests. I  don’t doubt they were mostly full of treasure he had picked up in foreign parts,  where there be mountains of gold, they say; but there wasn’t enough to fill tunnels.  But my lad Sam will know more about that. He’s in and out of Bag End. Crazy about  stories of the old days he is, and he listens to all Mr. Bilbo’s tales. Mr. Bilbo  has learned him his letters—meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will come  of it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘Elves and Dragons! I says to him. Cabbages and potatoes are better for me  and you. Don’t go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you’ll land  in trouble too big for you, I says to him. And I might say it to others,’ he added  with a look at the stranger and the miller.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But the Gaffer did not convince his  audience. The legend of Bilbo’s wealth was now too firmly fixed in the minds of the  younger generation of hobbits.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ‘Ah, but he has likely enough been adding to what  he brought at first, argued the miller, voicing common opinion. ‘He’s often away  from home. And look at the outlandish folk that visit him: dwarves coming at night,  and that old wandering conjuror, Gandalf, and all. You can say what you like, Gaffer,  but Bag End’s a queer place, and its folk are queerer.","brand":"Del Rey","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301336371429,"sku":"NP9780345339706","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345339706.jpg?v=1767739313","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-fellowship-of-the-ring-isbn-9780345339706","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}