My beginning of The Hobbit
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
The hobbit hole had a nice rounded door that lead from a loverly well-tended garden, inside to polished wooden floors and smoothpainted walls covered with nice pictures. There was nice, comfortable furniture to sit in by a warm cheery fire. The kitchen is the heart of any of any hobbit-hole. The pantrys were full and there would always be freshly bakes cooling on the table. Visitors were always welcome to this pleasant hole.
Hobbits themselves are short, even shorter than a dwarf. They dress in bright friendly colours such as yellows and greens. They have bright red cheeks, friendly smiles and a well fed body. They have tough hairy feet and would never even think of using shoes. They are simple folk, not going on adventure or having battles. They are content to farm the land and laze on a nice summers day.
The hobbit that lived in this particular hole at the end of Bag End road on top of the hill was a well to do hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. He was wealthy and held in high regard because he never did anything unexpected.
