A wizard and a hobbit met in a little pub in Bree
And drank together for a while, though neither one, you see,
Was in a very cheerful mood, as life had lately not been good
For either nor the other, in fact!
Between their complaints and their fair pints a-flowing,
Trust and good fellowship fast were a-growing:
The hobbit sighed, if thee was me–likewise if me was thee–
How differently the world would act!
The wizard, by now quite far gone in his drinking,
muttered some words about serious thinking,
Then slapped on his hat, fell asleep just like that,
And the hobbit– he followed soon after.
The bartender listened all night to the mutters
in sleep, of the mage, while he put up the shutters
And finished the grub, and closed up the pub,
And chased out the cat from the rafters.
Then he left them there, muttering and snoring
He figured they’d sleep there content till the morning–
He went home to his bed, where he slept well, ’tis said
With no idea at all what was a-brewing!
The wizard awoke in the early dawn light
And was instantly certain something was not right
For the hobbit, it seemed, stole his hat as he dreamed
A deed that hobbit quite soon would be ruing!
He reached for his hat with his old gnarled hand–
but the hand was a hobbit’s–he could not understand–
Then the wizard hollered out a great wizardly shout
And it came out like a hobbit’s, all squeaky!
The other woke up then with a sudden start,
And stared over the table, with his jaws far apart–
For there he saw–“Me!” where he’d thought he’d see he!
He said, “This can’t be, right, it’s just freaky!”
In fact, it was true, and the one was the other
–neither would’ve been known by his very own mother!
They both were perturbed, indeed, very disturbed,
staring wide-eyed at themselves thus transposed.
The one of them smiled a slightly odd grin,
The other one paused, and then he, too, joined in…
Whatever they’d done, they would turn it to fun
And gave in to what mischief proposed!
The wizard, now wearing the hobbit’s guise
Went home to “his” hole– what a big surprise
He gave then to “his” wife, who’d not once in her life
Seen him start up the stove with a shout!
Meanwhile, the wizard… the “hobbit,” I meant,
He sought out his landlord who was raising the rent
And he waved “his” great staff, with a threatening laugh
And called him a greedy old trout!
The landlord, alarmed he’d be changed to a fish,
Begged of the “wizard” to demand what he wished,
And he swore he would do it, there’d be nothing to it!
And lowered the rent by two pounds and a shilling.
The “hobbit”–the wizard– he went round the hole
Fixing and mending and making it whole
While the little wife beamed, for her husband it seemed
Had never before been so willing!
Thus passed the first day of the magical change
The “hobbit” cured all of the town dogs of mange
The “wizard,” he spoke to a number of folk
Who’d never trouble the hobbit again!
It went very well, and they had a fine time
Bamboozling the Shire–It was almost a crime
But as the sun set, the two again met
For a giggle and pint before bed…
The “Wizard” –but really the Hobbit, in fact,
Gave a toast with a cheer for their nice little act,
And he cried, “What a life! Now, I’m off to my wife…”
And that’s when their faces turned red…
Now, who’s to sleep where, and with whom beside?
Who gets the stable, and who gets the bride?
“It’s over now, Mack! Now, you just put us back!”
Said the wizard, “I just don’t know how!”
“Well, figure it out, then! And figure it fast!
It’s been fun but this switchy thing must not last!
Have some more beer, to make your mind clear–
Come up with a change-back spell now!“
The Wizard-like Hobbit, he worried and paced;
The Hobbity Wizard grew sick of beer’s taste,
He was at it all night, but try as he might
Not a spell that he tried did the trick.
Meanwhile, the Hobbit’s wife in this fable
Had gone to the trouble of setting the table
With china and candles, all the forks matching handles
Then she sat and she watched the clock tick…
His most favorite foods grew much over-done
while she sat there and gnawed on a dried out bun.
As the fine meal turned bad, she got worried, then sad
And finally she started to simmer…
She pulled off her apron and combed out her hair
Then she went to the pub, for she knew they’d be there
She looked through the glass, this furious lass,
What she heard only made her the grimmer
She went storming in, iron pan at the ready,
Stomped up to the table, where they weren’t too steady.
She glared in the eyes of the wizard-disguise
And then slammed down the pan on the table.
“Fix it,” she said, and she banged it once more
loudly enough that it rattled the door…
There was a loud POP that made everything stop–
and frightened the stock in the stable.
But suddenly, wonderfully, each had his own face
The Wizard and Hobbit had popped back into place
For there’s no spell in the world matching kitchen-ware hurled
By a Hobbit wife boiling with rage!
So now, at last, this tale comes to its close,
Wizard and Hobbit each behind his own nose,
Some good deeds were done which is better than none,
And thus content, we exit the stage.
LOOSELY SPEAKING... 