A story I’ll tell of a burglar bold
Who started to rob a house;
He opened the window, and then crept in
As quiet as a mouse.
He looked around for a place to hide,
‘Till the folks were all asleep,
Then said he, “With their money
I’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 room
Or 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 sight
That 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 night
So 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 fits
As 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 all
And 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!”