"There's a knot in that neck—a good oak knot. You couldn't chop my head off in a thousand years!"
The kinglet was annoyed.
"Pull out that cleaver," he commanded.
The girl tried to obey, but the cleaver stuck fast. Then the Failings tried, one after another; but it wouldn't budge.
"Never mind, leave it there," said the Indian, rolling over and then getting upon his feet. "It won't bother me in the least. In fact, it will make a curious ornament."
"Look here, Sir John Dough," said the kinglet, turning to the gingerbread man; "what am I going to do? I've said the Indian must die, because he has no wart on his nose. And I find I can't kill him. Now, you must either tell me how to get out of this scrape or I'll cut your head off! And it won't be as hard to cut gingerbread as it is wood, I promise you."
This speech rather frightened John, for he knew he was in great danger. But after thinking a moment he replied:
"Why, it seems to me very easy to get out of the difficulty, your Majesty. The Indian's only offense is that he has no wart on his nose."
"But that is a great offense!" cried the kinglet.
"Well, let us whittle a wart on his nose," said John, "and then all will be well."