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Edgar Guest - A Scare
Work rating: Low

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, 
But I keep my nerves under control.
The neighbor`s pet canine may bay 
At the moon, and I merely turn o`er,
But I lose absolutely my head 
At that bumpety-bump on the floor
When the baby falls out of his bed.

A shot may ring out in the street,
And "murder" a woman may yell; 
I may listen to scurrying feet
But I handle myself rather well. 
A dark house I`ll even explore,
But my heart stops as though I were dead 
At that bumpety-bump on the floor
When the baby falls out of his bed.

I know that the old mothers say
That once every baby must fall, 
That they seldom are hurt in that way
And really don`t mind it at all; 
But still terror closes each pore
And my hair stands up straight on my head 
At that bumpety-bump on the floor
When the baby falls out of his bed.
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