The Gandalf Story

The Wizard sat high up on a mountain top contemplating the mysteries of the universe. After a long while he took out his magic pipe to smoke. Being an object of magic and wonder it would help the old man think. He filled its bowl with aromatic tobacco and lit it with a matchstick taking deep drags of satisfaction as he smoked away the time. He was just beginning to get lost in thought when the pipe interrupted him. It was a magic pipe mind you, and could think and talk on its own. ‘You shouldn’t smoke so much Wizard,’ said the old pipe. ‘One day all this smoking will make you ill.’ Gandalf then told the pipe,’Shut up, or I will cast a spell on you never to utter one word again.’ The pipe fell silent at this command of his master and didn’t mention the ultimate price of his bad habits again. Still, the old Wizard was no fool, and knew that his old friend the magic tobacco pipe wasn't lying when it told him that too much smoking would kill him one day. This nudged the old man’s conscience a bit, enough to make him stop smoking for now, and scratch out the bowl of the old pipe. He put it away in his bag of magic items and said, ‘I’ll be needing your services again soon old friend. But not today. Smoking will kill you as you say.’ Now he would have to think seriously of quitting after all. A lifetime of smoking wasn't good for any man. Not even a grand old Wizard like himself. He sighed and thought to himself, ‘No-one is perfect after all.’ Not even Gandalf The Great.