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colonized。 They lived mostly in Staddle though there were some in Bree itself；
especially on the higher slopes of the hill； above the houses of the Men。 TheBig Folk and the Little Folk （as they called one another） were on friendlyterms； minding their own affairs in their own ways； but both rightly regardingthemselves as necessary parts of the Bree…folk。 Nowhere else in the world wasthis peculiar （but excellent） arrangement to be found。
The Bree…folk； Big and Little； did not themselves travel much； and theaffairs of the four villages were their chief concern。 Occasionally theHobbits of Bree went as far as Buckland； or the Eastfarthing； but though theirlink land was not much further than a day's riding east of the BrandywineBridge； the Hobbits of the Shire now seldom visited it。 An occasionalBucklander or adventurous Took would e out to the Inn for a night or two；
but even that was being less and less usual。 The Shire…hobbits referred tothose of Bree； and to any others that lived beyond the borders； as Outsiders；
and took very little interest in them； considering them dull and uncouth。
There were probably many more Outsiders scattered about in the West of theWorld in those days than the people of the Shire imagined。 Some； doubtless；
were no better than tramps； ready to dig a hole in any bank and stay only aslong as it suited them。 But in the Bree…land； at any rate； the hobbits weredecent and prosperous； and no more rustic than most of their distant relativesInside。 It was not yet forgotten that there had been a time when there wasmuch ing and going between the Shire and Bree。 There was Bree…blood in theBrandybucks by all accounts。
The village of Bree had some hundred stone houses of the Big Folk； mostlyabove the Road； nestling on the hillside with windows looking west。 On thatside； running in more than half a circle from the hill and back to it； therewas a deep dike with a thick hedge on the inner side。 Over this the Roadcrossed by a causeway； but where it pierced the hedge it was barred by a greatgate。 There was another gate in the southern er where the Road ran out ofthe village。 The gates were closed at nightfall； but just inside them weresmall lodges for the gatekeepers。
Down on the Road； where it swept to the right to go round the foot of thehill； there was a large inn。 It had been built long ago when the traffic onthe roads had been far greater。 For Bree stood at an old meeting of ways；
another ancient road crossed the East Road just outside （he dike at thewestern end of the village； and in former days Men and other folk of varioussorts had travelled much on it。 _Strange as News from Bree_ was still a sayingin the Eastfarthing； descending from those days； when news from North； South；
and East could be heard in the inn； and when the Shire…hobbits used to go moreoften to hear it。 But the Northern Lands had long been desolate； and the NorthRoad was now seldom used： it was grass…grown； and the Bree…folk called it theGreenway。
The Inn of Bree was still there； however； and the innkeeper was animportant person。 His house was a meeting place for the idle； talkative； andinquisitive among the inhabitants； large and small； of the four villages； anda resort of Rangers and other wanderers； and for such travellers （mostlydwarves） as still journeyed on the East Road； to and from the Mountains。
It was dark； and white stars were shining； when Frodo and his panionscame at last to the Greenway…crossing and drew near the village。 They came tothe West…gate and found it shut； but at the door of the lodge beyond it； therewas a man sitting。 He jumped up and fetched a lantern and looked over the gateat them in surprise。
'What do you want； and where do you e from？' he asked gruffly。
'We are making for the inn here；' answered Frodo。 'We are journeying eastand cannot go further tonight。'
'Hobbits！ Four hobbits！ And what's more； out of the Shire by theirtalk；' said the gatekeeper； softly as if speaking to himself。 He stared atthem darkly for a moment； and then slowly opened the gate and let them ride
through。
'We don't often see Shire…folk riding on the Road at night；' he went on；
as they halted a moment by his door。 'You'll pardon my wondering what businesstakes you away east of Bree！ What may your names be； might I ask？'
'Our names and our business are our own； and this does not seem a goodplace to discuss them；' said Frodo； not liking the look of the man or the toneof his voice。
'Your business is your own； no doubt；' said the man； 'but it's mybusiness to ask questions after nightfall。'
'We are hobbits from Buckland； and we have a fancy to travel and to stayat the inn here；' put in Merry。 'I am Mr。 Brandybuck。 Is that enough for you？
The Bree…folk used to be fair…spoken to travellers； or so I had heard。'
'All right； all right！' said the man。 'I meant no offence。 But you'llfind maybe that more folk than old Harry at the gate will be asking youquestions。 There's queer folk about。 If you go on to _The Pony；_ you'll findyou're oat the only guests。'
He wished them good night； and they said no more； but Frodo could see inthe lantern…light that the man was still eyeing them curiously。 He was glad tohear the gate clang to behind them； as they rode forward。 He wondered why theman was so suspicious； and whether any one had been asking for _news of_ aparty of hobbits。 Could it have been Gandalf？ He might have arrived； whilethey were delayed in the Forest and the Downs。 But there was something in thelook and the voice of the gatekeeper that made him uneasy。
The man stared after the hobbits for a moment； and then he went back tohis house。 As soon as his back was turned； a dark figure climbed quickly inover the gate and melted into the shadows of the village street。
The hobbits rode on up a gentle slope； passing a few detached houses； anddrew up outside the inn。 The houses looked large and strange to them。 Samstared up at the inn with its three storeys and many windows； and felt hisheart sink。 He had imagined himself meeting giants taller than trees； andother creatures even more terrifying； some time or other in the course of hisjourney； but at the moment he was finding his first sight of Men and theirtall houses quite enough； indeed too much for the dark end of a tiring day。 Hepictured black horses standing all saddled in the shadows of the inn…yard； andBlack Riders peering out of dark upper windows。
'We surely aren't going to stay here for the night； are we； sir？' heexclaimed。 'If there are hobbit…folk in these pans； why don't we look for somethat would be willing to take us in？ It would be more homelike。'
'What's wrong with the inn？' said Frodo。 'Tom Bombadil remended it。 Iexpect it's homelike enough inside。'
Even from the outside the inn looked a pleasant house to familiar eyes。
It had a front on the Road； and two wings running back on land partly cut outof the lower slopes of the hill； so that at the rear the second…floor windowswere level with the ground。 There was a wide arch leading to a courtyardbetween the two wings； and on the left under the arch there was a largedoorway reached by a few broad steps。 The door was open and light streamed outof it。 Above the arch there was a lamp； and beneath it swung a largesignboard： a fat white pony reared up on its hind legs。 Over the door waspainted in white letters： THE PRANCING PONY by BARLIMAN BUTTERBUR。 Many of thelower windows showed lights behind thick curtains。
As they hesitated outside in the gloom； someone began singing a merrysong inside； and many cheerful voices joined loudly in the chorus。 Theylistened to this encouraging sound for a moment and then got off their ponies。
The song ended and there was a burst of laughter and clapping。
They led their ponies under the arch； and leaving them standing in theyard they climbed up the steps。 Frodo went forward and nearly bumped into ashort fat man with a bald head and a red face。 He had a white apron on； andwas bustling out of one door and in through another； carrying a tray ladenwith full mugs。
'Can we…' began Frodo。
'Half a minute； if you please！' shouted the man over his shoulder； andvanished into a babel of voices and a cloud of smoke。 In a moment he was out
again； wiping his hands