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In the Attic | ||
| Softly climb the attic stair, Filled with fear, but not despair. Who knows what may lurk up there? We must for the worst prepare. Maybe they'll be mice or rats. Could be even ghosts or rats. If we peek up through the slats We could see some mean black cats! But we might find things of joy That the beasts did not destroy, Like a book, or game, or toy For a little girl or boy. | ||
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