|A story I’ll tell of a burglar boldWho started to rob a house;He opened the window, and then crept inAs quiet as a mouse.He looked around for a place to hide,’Till the folks were all asleep,Then said he, “With their moneyI’ll take a quiet sneak.”So under the bed the burglar crept;He crept up close to the wall;He didn’t know it was an old maid’s roomOr he wouldn’t have had the gall.He thought of the money that he would steal,As under the bed he lay;But at nine o’clock he saw a sightThat made his hair turn gray.At nine o’clock the old maid came in;”I am so tired,” she said;She thought that all was well that nightSo she didn’t look under the bed.She took out her teeth and her big glass eye,And the hair from off her head;The burglar, he had forty fitsAs he watched from under the bed.From under the bed the burglar crept,He was a total wreck;The old maid wasn’t asleep at allAnd she grabbed him by the neck.She didn’t holler, or shout or call,She was as cool as a clam;She only said, “The Saints be praised,At last I’ve got a man!”From under the pillow a gun she drew,And to the burglar she said,”Young man, if you don’t marry me,I’ll blow off the top of your head!”She held him firmly by the neck,He hadn’t a chance to scoot;He looked at the teeth and the big glass eye,And said, “Madam, for Pete’s sake, shoot!”