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By and by he came to the resolution to pretend to be dying, in the
hope they might take him out before his strength was too much
exhausted to let him have a chance. Then, for the creatures, if he
could but find his axe again, he would have no fear of them; and if
it were not for the queen's horrid shoes, he would have no fear at
all.
Meantime, until they should come again at night, there was nothing
for him to do but forge new rhymes, now his only weapons. He had
no intention of using them at present, of course; but it was well
to have a stock, for he might live to want them, and the
manufacture of them would help to while away the time.
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