Then they went back, and found
Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a
pipe. He was blowing the most enormous
smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it
went—up the chimney, or behind the clock on
the mantelpiece, or under the table, or round
and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it
was not quick enough to escape Gandalf. Pop!
he sent a smaller smoke-ring from his short
clay-pipe straight through each one of Thorin’s.

Then Gandalf’s smoke-ring would go green and
come back to hover over the wizard’s head. He
had a cloud of them about him already, and in
the dim light it made him look strange and
sorcerous.

The Hobbit, Chapter 1: An Unexpected Journey