Now it must be understood that the invitation was written for one notary, and that three came up the path, and that no one in the hole saw fit to mention it. Hobbits seldom do. There was tea, and there were seed-cakes, and somewhere between them it grew plain that the quiet guest answered to Elf as well as to hobbit, and that the fellow in the waistcoat had never once said what he was, and that the great shape by the fire was no man at all, though he was civil about it. Now hobbits are a counting folk. One of them counted the room, and counted it a second time, and got a greater number than before; and he went on counting, and no one thought to stop him. In the morning the pantry was bare, and one notary sat blinking in a chair, and out beyond the gate, in the long grass, there stood something very large indeed.