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.