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"We're done bin eated alive by dese yar pencilguins." The rookery lay in a slight depression and was not visible from where the boys stood, so that they were unable to imagine what was taking place. "They are in serious trouble of some sort again," cried Frank. "Come on, boys, let's go to their rescue."
"What, aren't you going to kill some of the birds?" demanded the professor. "No, certainly not," replied Frank. "What for?" "Why they attacked us and frightened the life out of me," protested the professor. "An' dem pesky pencilguins mos' bited mah nose off," roared Rastus, rubbing that not over prominent feature. "Well, you had no business in their rookery, anyhow," rejoined Frank, unfeelingly.
"Oh, please, good Mistah Pencilguins, I didn't mean no harm," roared Rastus, who seemed to think the human-looking birds could understand him. "Go afta' de perfusser, it was him dat tole me youalls tasted lak chicking." "Stop that, you greedy black rascal," retorted the professor, laying about him with the egg-basket.
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