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Goodness gracious! What a noise
Baby Bunting's bent on making; It is quite enough to set
All the heads around him aching. Still we're sure that Baby has
Many griefs if we could see 'em, For with other babes he's come
Miles and miles to the Museum. Baby Bunting thought, of course,
When he said good bye to mother, That he'd pass in through the gates
With big sister and big brother. But poor Baby finds, alas,
That his little hopes have flitted, For the nasty notice says
" Babes in arms are not admitted."
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