ნაწყვეტი წიგნიდან:
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.
It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny
yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-
shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with
panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished
chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond
of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite
straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many
miles round called it - and many little round doors opened out of it, first
on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit:
bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he
had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were
on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms
were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to
have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden, and
meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.