“Thirty white horses on a red hill,
     First they champ,
     Then they stamp,
     Then they stand still.”
     That was all he could think of to ask-the idea of eating was rather on
     his mind. It was rather an old one, too, and Gollum knew the answer as
well as you do.
     “Chestnuts, chestnuts,” he hissed. “Teeth! teeth! my preciousss; but
we has only six!” Then he asked his second:
     “Voiceless it cries,
     Wingless flutters,
     Toothless bites,
     Mouthless mutters.”
     “Half a moment!” cried Bilbo, who was still thinking uncomfortably
about eating. Fortunately he had once heard something rather like this
before, and getting his wits back he thought of the answer. “Wind,
wind of course,” he said, and he was so pleased that he made up one on
the spot. “This’ll puzzle the nasty little underground creature,” he
thought:
     “An eye in a blue face