it was most horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched
unmercifully, and chuckled and laughed in their horrible stony voices;
and Bilbo was more unhappy even than when the troll had picked him up by
his toes. He wished again and again for his nice bright hobbit-hole. Not
for the last time.
Now there came a glimmer of a red light before them. The goblins
began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flap of their flat feet
on the stone, and shaking their prisoners as well.
Clap! Snap! the black crack!
Grip, grab! Pinch, nab!
And down down to Goblin-town
You go, my lad!
Clash, crash! Crush, smash!

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