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Poor
old
Wilow-man
,
you
tuck
your
roots
away
!
Tom
's
in
a
hurry
now
.
Evening
will
folow
day
.
Tom
's
going
home
again
water-lilies
bringing
.
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Hey
!
Come
derry
dol
!
Can
you
hear
me
singing
?
Frodo
and
Sam
stood
as
if
enchanted
.
The
wind
puffed
out
.
The
leaves
hung
silently
again
on
stiff
branches
.
There
was
another
burst
of
song
,
and
then
suddenly
,
hopping
and
dancing
along
the
path
,
there
appeared
above
the
reeds
an
old
battered
hat
with
a
tall
crown
and
a
long
blue
feather
stuck
in
the
band
.
With
another
hop
and
a
bound
there
came
into
view
a
man
,
or
so
it
seemed
.
At
any
rate
he
was
too
large
and
heavy
for
a
hobbit
,
if
not
quite
tall
enough
for
one
of
the
Big
People
,
though
he
made
noise
enough
for
one
,
slumping
along
with
great
yelow
boots
on
his
thick
legs
,
and
charging
through
grass
and
rushes
like
a
cow
going
down
to
drink
.
He
had
a
blue
coat
and
a
long
brown
beard
;
his
eyes
were
blue
and
bright
,
and
his
face
was
red
as
a
ripe
apple
,
but
creased
into
a
hundred
wrinkles
of
laughter
.
In
his
hands
he
carried
on
a
large
leaf
as
on
a
tray
a
small
pile
of
white
water-lilies
.
"
Help
!
"
cried
Frodo
and
Sam
running
towards
him
with
their
hands
stretched
out
.
"
Whoa
!
Whoa
!
steady
there
!
"
cried
the
old
man
,
holding
up
one
hand
,
and
they
stopped
short
,
as
if
they
had
been
struck
stiff
.
"
Now
,
my
little
felows
,
where
be
you
a-going
to
,
puffing
like
a
belows
?
What
's
the
matter
here
then
?
Do
you
know
who
I
am
?
I
'm
Tom
Bombadil
.
Tell
me
what
's
your
trouble
!
Tom
's
in
a
hurry
now
.
Do
n't
you
crush
my
lilies
!
"
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"
My
friends
are
caught
in
the
wilow-tree
,
"
cried
Frodo
breathlessly
.
"
Master
Merry
's
being
squeezed
in
a
crack
!
"
cried
Sam
.
"
What
?
"
shouted
Tom
Bombadil
,
leaping
up
in
the
air
.
"
Old
Man
Wilow
?
Naught
worse
than
that
,
eh
?
That
can
soon
be
mended
.
I
know
the
tune
for
him
.
Old
grey
Wilow-man
!
I
'll
freeze
his
marrow
cold
,
if
he
do
n't
behave
himself
.
I
'll
sing
his
roots
off
.
I
'll
sing
a
wind
up
and
blow
leaf
and
branch
away
.
Old
Man
Wilow
!
"
Setting
down
his
lilies
carefuly
on
the
grass
,
he
ran
to
the
tree
.
There
he
saw
Merry
's
feet
still
sticking
out
-
the
rest
had
already
been
drawn
further
inside
.
Tom
put
his
mouth
to
the
crack
and
began
singing
into
it
in
a
low
voice
.
They
could
not
catch
the
words
,
but
evidently
Merry
was
aroused
.
His
legs
began
to
kick
.
Tom
sprang
away
,
and
breaking
off
a
hanging
branch
smote
the
side
of
the
wilow
with
it
.
"
You
let
them
out
again
,
Old
Man
Wilow
!
"
he
said
.
"
What
be
you
a-thinking
of
?
You
should
not
be
waking
.
Eat
earth
!
Dig
deep
!
Drink
water
!
Go
to
sleep
!
Bombadil
is
talking
!
"
He
then
seized
Merry
's
feet
and
drew
him
out
of
the
suddenly
widening
crack
.