From The Topeka State Journal, April 29, 1914. By Roy K. Moulton.
It was near midnight’s holy hour,
In vain we courted sleep;
The shadders was a-dancing round
And made our nerves all creep,
When suddenly we heard a sound,
A soft step on the stair;
We gazed into the hall, and lo,
A burglar bold was there.
He acted perfectly at home,
And never noticed us;
He went about his business
Without the slightest fuss.
He must have known he was observed,
Of that we could have vowed,
For when he took some of our stuff
We chuckled right out loud.
When ma-in-law’s false teeth he took
We smiled chuck full of glee.
This burglar was a kind gazabo,
A jolly rogue was he.
And when he took Bill’s phonograph
And dropped it in his sack,
We laughed so loud we could be heard
To Timbuktu and back.
He carried off our coo-coo clock,
And it ne’er more will tell
Of our arrival nightly and
Sound our domestic knell.
And when he took our wife’s pink hat,
We hate from tip to brim,
We felt like getting out of bed
And shaking hands with him.
He took our parrot and we yelled
Aloud in fiendish mirth,
And then got up and helped him pack
For all that we were worth.
We handed him a good cigar
And made him promise that
Whenever he came ‘round this way
He’d burglarize our flat.
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