Date: Fri, 5 May 2006 13:21:03 -0700
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And he was a miserable wicked creature, and already he had a plan.
Not far away was his island, of which Bilbo knew nothing, and there in
his hiding-place he kept a few wretched oddments, and one very beautiful
thing, very beautiful, very wonderful. He had a ring, a golden ring, a
precious ring.
My birthday-present! he whispered to himself, as he had often done
in the endless dark days. Thats what we wants now, yes; we wants it!
He wanted it because it was a ring of power, and if you slipped that
ring on your finger, you were invisible; only in the full sunlight could
you be seen, and then only by your shadow, and that would be shaky and
faint. My birthday-present! It came to me on my birthday, my precious,
So he had always said to himself. But who knows how Gollum came by that
present, ages ago in the old days when such rings were still at large in
the world? Perhaps even the Master who ruled them could not have said.
Gollum used to wear it at first, till it tired him; and then he kept it
in a pouch next his skin, till it galled him; and now usually he hid it