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- Джон Толкин
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Of
the
various
burglarious
proceedings
he
had
heard
of
picking
the
trolls
'
pockets
seemed
the
least
difficult
,
so
at
last
he
crept
behind
a
tree
just
behind
William
.
Bert
and
Tom
went
off
to
the
barrel
.
William
was
having
another
drink
.
Then
Bilbo
plucked
up
courage
and
put
his
little
hand
in
William
's
enormous
pocket
.
There
was
a
purse
in
it
,
as
big
as
a
bag
to
Bilbo
.
"
Ha
!
"
thought
he
warming
to
his
new
work
as
he
lifted
it
carefully
out
,
"
this
is
a
beginning
!
"
It
was
!
Trolls
'
purses
are
the
mischief
,
and
this
was
no
exception
.
"
'
Ere
,
'
oo
are
you
?
"
it
squeaked
,
as
it
left
the
pocket
;
and
William
turned
round
at
once
and
grabbed
Bilbo
by
the
neck
,
before
he
could
duck
behind
the
tree
.
"
Blimey
,
Bert
,
look
what
I
've
copped
!
"
said
William
.
"
What
is
it
?
"
said
the
others
coming
up
.
"
Lumme
,
if
I
knows
!
What
are
yer
?
"
"
Bilbo
Baggins
,
a
bur
-
a
hobbit
,
"
said
poor
Bilbo
,
shaking
all
over
,
and
wondering
how
to
make
owl-noises
before
they
throttled
him
.
"
A
burrahobbit
?
"
said
they
a
bit
startled
.
Trolls
are
slow
in
the
uptake
,
and
mighty
suspicious
about
anything
new
to
them
.
"
What
's
a
burrahobbit
got
to
do
with
my
pocket
,
anyways
?
"
said
William
.
"
And
can
yer
cook
'em
?
"
said
Tom
.
"
Yer
can
try
,
"
said
Bert
,
picking
up
a
skewer
.
"
He
would
n't
make
above
a
mouthful
,
"
said
William
,
who
had
already
had
a
fine
supper
,
"
not
when
he
was
skinned
and
boned
.
"
