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A Scare

There are noises that freeze up the blood,
There's the sound of the burglar at night
As he's picking the lock, and the thud
Of a wind-worried door I thought tight;
But there's nothing that frightens me more
Nor causes such horrible dread
As the bumpety-bump on the floor
When the baby falls out of his bed.

The coal pile may rattle and roll

As it will in its uncanny way,
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