Brought up by his mother, Dora Grubb, Humfrye  never knew his father, of whom she never spoke.  Getting old now, he lives alone in Michel Delving now, having sold the cottage home where he grew up on the outskirts of Woodhall when his mother died.  He is often to be found tending or harvesting his crops in the South Fields or working at the oven in Michel Delving.  As a young hobbit he was often drawn to the woods and surrounding fields and at an early age he showed proficiency with a bow.  If you asked his neighbours they would describe him as a highly respectable but unremarkable hobbit most of the time, enjoying all the comforts dear to hobbits – good food, good company, pipeweed and ale.  They might also remark, with a degree of discomfort, that from time to time Mr Humfrye has been known to don his travelling gear and set off with his faithful pony, Bogart, sometimes for a week or more, without leaving any clue as to his whereabouts, and has not be seen until returning as quietly as he left.  It might also be said that his drinking companions have noticed that on occasions, as a pleasant evening at the tavern draws to a close, good old Humfrye’s gaze has been drawn beyond the cheery company into a distance only he can see and a glazed expression has been observed to cross his visage, broken by momentary flickers of animation.  Although, as one of the more charitable of his companions remarked, ale can do that to a hobbit!