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"Poor thing," said Peterkin, gently extending his hand, and endeavouring to pat the cat's head. "Poor pussy; chee, chee, chee; puss, puss, puss; cheetie pussy!"
Parry's Groundsquirrel was found at nearly all points, including the large islands. The Laplongspur swarmed everywhere; their loud "chee chups" were the first sounds to greet us each time we neared the land. And out over all the lake were Loons, Loons, Loons.
Hully Chee! ain't ye had enough?" So, mechanically, he set off at a run, with his arm still gripped by the Spider. "Leg it, bo leg it good, or here's where we snuff it sure! This way round th' corner; only keep goin', bo, keep goin'."
* Like anonymous detraction before vox populi. Yock! yock! O chio faliera po! Otock otock tock! o chio chee! o chio chee! Jug! jug! jug! jug! Off we go! off we go!
He could not trust untried young men to act rationally if they were unaware and the guard ship arrived and matter-of-factly attempted to board one of them. Then he was inspired. He called Murgatroyd, placed him before the communicator, and set it at voice-only transmission. This was familiar enough, to Murgatroyd. He'd often seen Calhoun use a communicator. "Chee!" shrilled Murgatroyd.
Sitting on a log in the edge of the woods one evening, just at sunset, I listened to the singing of one of these birds quite close to me, but hidden from sight. I had never been so near a singer, and I was surprised to hear, after every repetition of his song, a low response, a sort of whispered "chee." Was it his mate answering, or criticising his music?
"Chee!" said Murgatroyd. The heavy voice boomed. "You there! This is a human-occupied world! If you come in peace, cut your drive and let our guard ship approach!" Murgatroyd replied in an interested but doubtful tone. The booming voice bellowed. Another voice of higher authority took over. Murgatroyd was entranced that so many people wanted to talk to him.
They're talking about dropping fusion bombs here. It's important that I talk to somebody with the authority to take a few sensible precautions!" He descended to the ground. There was a panicky "Chee! Chee!" from behind him, and Murgatroyd came dashing to swarm up his body and cling apprehensively to his neck. "What's that?" "A tormal," said Calhoun. "He's not a pet.
"Well," says he, "who was she?" "Why," says I, "the Lady Mildred." "Whe-e-e-ew!" says Mr. Robert, through his front teeth. "Not the one that spells such with a T?" "Ah, chee!" says I. "What's the odds how she spells, so long as she's got Lillian Russell in the back row?
One has to be in terrifically bad physical condition for them to take hold and produce whatever effects they do. But once they're established they're passed on from mother to child. And when they die out it's during childhood, too!" He poured coffee for the two of them. Murgatroyd swung down to the floor and said, impatiently, "Chee! Chee! Chee!"
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