away. “Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer,”
he said, “or keep you from much needed rest. Ponies take some
catching, I believe, after a long start. And so do burglars,” he added
as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled up the tunnel.
     It was an unfortunate remark, for the dragon spouted terrific flames
after him, and fast though he sped up the slope, he had not gone
nearly far enough to be comfortable before the ghastly head of Smaug
was thrust against the opening behind. Luckily the whole head and jaws
could not squeeze in, but the nostrils sent forth fire and vapour to
pursue him, and he was nearly overcome, and stumbled blindly on in
great pain and fear. He had been feeling rather pleased with the
cleverness of his conversation with Smaug, but his mistake at the end
shook him into better sense.
     “Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!” he said to himself, and
it became a favourite saying of his later, and passed into a proverb.
“You aren’t nearly through this adventure yet,” he added, and that was
pretty true as well.
     The afternoon was turning into evening when he came out again and
stumbled and fell in a faint on the ‘door-step.’ The dwarves revived
him, and doctored his scorches as well as they could; but it was a