In your tome, this page seems to have been nibbled on around the edges, although not enough to alter the text within it. It also seems to be covered a fine sheet of semi-transparent… is it string? Uh, anyway, the page reads as follows:

Like most man-made structures that are sheltered from the elements, the Library has its fair share of unwelcome, yet tolerated, occupants. These creatures make their homes beneath the eaves and have adapted to the habitats of various Libraries. The Pests, much like Eternal Employees and Guardians, persist across Library Incarnations. But unlike Eternal Employees and Guardians, they are not paid, and they do not contribute to library upkeep, quite the opposite in fact.

Attempts have been made to eradicate some of these creatures but they appear just as stuck in this loop of destruction and rebirth as the rest of us….

A Post-it note with coffee or tea stains sticks on the edge of a shelf in the Scrolls Division. It is clear it once had other things written on it in a bubbly font, but now all that can be made out is: “Don't disturb the dust!”

Generally harmless, these creatures reproduce and multiply to an astonishing degree in every incarnation of the Library. They are most common in the Scrolls Division where few visit other than the Guest archivists. Nipping Dust Bunnies take on the appearance of rabbits coated in dust. They are an amalgamation of grime and particles collected among the Library’s collections (and collected upon more sedentary residents).

Occasionally, Dust Bunnies merge together to create a swirling dust cloud. However, this only happens when they are severely agitated. Either out of annoyance or mischievousness, a single dust bunny may nibble at the heels of a passerby. The chances of this increase if a visitor is alone or attempting to clean up the dust.

“Excuse me, yes, hello, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could return books? You see, I've got an overdue one here, and – wait, where are you going? Why are you running?”

The Library does not take kindly to those who borrow books and do not return them by the end of the allotted time period. Any and all records of overdue books (and these can include scrolls and scraps of documents as well as bound volumes) appears in meticulously penned writing on the Overdue Book List.

Unfortunately, the List has a mind of its own and drifts throughout each incarnation of the Library, pestering anyone who is marked on the list. However, because many of the people marked on the Overdue Book List are long-gone or dead, the List often settles for anyone who has a book in their possession–whether they took it from a previous Library Incarnation or not!

Out of the Library's Eternal Employees, only the Intern can rein in and properly manage the Overdue Book List. They can often be found wrangling the List away from a harassed Library Guest, altering the List as needed. If the Intern is nowhere to be seen, the best way to placate the List is to hand over the book you are reading so it can erase some poor sop's name from its sorely outdated records.

In the case that the List does correctly identify an overdue title in someone's possession, well, that someone best be prepared to pay some hefty fines in the form of bits of knowledge or useful items on their person…

A more contentious Pest of the Library, some Eternal Employees and even Guardians 'view' the Invisible Silkworms as an endearing presence. This is perhaps because the larvae are as adorable as they are voracious. They will eat just about anything in the Library and produce lovely silk garments from their cocoons.

Urick the Wise Hedgehog is especially fond of the scarves that can be crafted from the silk. Once the larvae complete and crawl into their cocoons, their silk homes become visible. Albeit, the cocoons are difficult to uncover and are most frequently clustered in deep, dark recesses of bookcases or exhibit cases, making them extremely valuable to those who desire them.

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If you hear some suspicious munching and spot the pages of rare texts or the leaves of scientific specimens disappearing, there is a high chance an invisible silkworm is the culprit. And you can expect most denizens of the Library to appreciate prompt and precise containment of the creature!

“What is that sound? Are there birds in here?”

“Uh… then why is that bird shaped like a cover of a 'Phlebotomy for Dummies' volume?”

Some cover protectors are quite tame, content to stay safe, snug, and secure around the covers of their chosen sheaf of papers. Those aren't the ones Employees, Guests, and Library Chosen have to concern themselves with. It is the coverless, bookless Cover Protectors that are ornery.

Flapping Cover Protectors will rise from an ill-fitting cover or burst from a shelf where they lay, un-homed, with startling ferocity. They are known to maul, nip and pester, as most other Pests of the Library tend to do. They share a startling amount of similarity with ambush predators in the natural world.

The old Library Incarnations had no issue with thinning and managing the population of Cover Protectors, before some behavioralists and book binders thought better of it. The Flapping Cover Protectors soon became endangered, their populations unable to recover after too much culling. Nowadays, to destroy a Cover Protector that is simply uncomfortable, abandoned or threatened is considered a dire breach of the rules.