  SOMETIMES at night I get awake And all’s so dark and still— Why I’m ’bout scared even to take A deep-down breath, until I peer ’round first and try to see If ev’rything’s all right! For the terriblest things can be,— The Middle of the Night. I want so much to cry right out— But I am awful ’fraid! ’Cause, if those black things were about, They’d hear the noise I made. And mother sleeps so very sound, She mightn’t hear, you see, And then they’d make a great big bound And run away with me. So I lie just still as I can— My heart a-thumping so! Wishing I were a great big man, So I’d not scare, you know. When oh!—the covers pull away And just as I begin To scream—why, I hear mother say It’s her tucking them in! |
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