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“Why, it’s poetry!” declared Harry.

“Well, I don’t claim much for the rhymes,” answered the doctor, modestly. “Got it, Chub?”

“Er—well, you see, sir, being in rhyme makes it more difficult.”

The others jeered.

“Of course I don’t mean that I can’t guess it, only that it requires more effort. Now let me see: ‘Flies through the air without wings;’ that’s a balloon. ‘Swims through the sea without fins;’ that’s—that’s an eel. Er—what was the rest, doctor?”

replied the doctor.

Chub was silent a moment. Then, “I—I think it’s an ichthyosaurus,” he said.

“You’ll have to guess again,” laughed the doctor. “How about you, Dick?”