Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday 29th June 1905Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday 29th June 1905[electronic resource]Creation of machine-readable versionKeyboarded by KiwiTechCreation of digital imagesKiwiTechConversion to TEI-conformant markupKiwiTechca. 59 kilobytesVictoria University of Wellington LibraryWellingtonModern English,
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2016Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday 29th June 1905Victoria University College Students' AssociationWellington1905Source copy consulted: Victoria University of Wellington Library, JC Beaglehole Room, LG741 V C28873918Carnival
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NZETC Subject Headings1905EnglishLiterature
Victoria College Students' CarnivalProgramme ... Students' ... Song'sDiploma Day.Thursday, June 29, 1905.Presented by the Victoria College Student's Association.Now put ye on your boldest suit of mirth,For we have friends that purpose merriment,Shakespeare
Graduates of the Year.
"Yon precious winners all; your exultation partake to everyone."
—The Winter's Tale.
"What wisdom stirs amongst you!" —Shakespeare.
Honours in Arts.
Miss M. M. Rigg.Miss I. Robertson.P. W. Robertson.F. P. Wilson
Masters of Arts.
J. Caughley.R. E. Rudman.
Bachelors of Arts.
E. W. Andrews.Miss E. M. Evans.Miss M. E. Hales.Miss C. M. Ross.Miss A. I. Smyth.J. Williamson.Miss F. M. Wolters.Mrs. M. Baker-Gabb.F. W. Gamble.Miss E. E. M. Martin.Miss M. C. Seagar.M. W. C. Sprott, Senior Scholar (Greek)W. H. Wilson.
Bachelors of Laws.
G. H. Fell.A. H. Johnstone, B.A.D. K. Logan.S. J. Moran.H. H. Ostler.M. W. Richmond, B.Sc.J. L. Stout.
Bachelor of Science.
E. E. A. T. Rigg.
"What can be duller than a man who known everything!" —An Undergrad.
"And all the air a solemn stillness holds."—Gray.
Afternoon Programme.
The Song of Victoria College (Page 3).
Officials enter. "De Omnibus"—first two verses (Page 7).
Chancellor's Address
(15 minutes only).
"A little may be a good thing, but too much is enough."—Mason.
"Le sage intend a demi-mot.,'
Address by a College Councillor.
Tune.—"Father O'Flynn."
We have colleges, many of charming variety,And students and profs, of most varying sobriety,Yet we'll maintain without impropriety,Victoria College is Queen of them all.All her professors are clearly the best;Her students are noted for zeal and for zest.Health to each graduate, proud is New Zealand's state,When she has them and US for the rest.
Capping Ceremony.
Tune.—"Tit Willow.—Mikado.
On the floor in his classroom a foreigner strode—Zedlitz! Zedlitz! Von Zedlitz!But the lingo of some dozen countries he knowed,Did Zedlitz! Zedlitz! Von Zedlitz!Thou' his pupils were old and attended but few,He was held in respect as a golfist and beau,And his ancestor 'twas wrote the "Midnight Review "Zedlitz! Baron Von Zedlitz!
Address by Chairman of the Professorial Board, Professor Von Zedlitz.
Song ... ... "Gaudeamus ... ... Page 3
"You could 'are 'eard a pin drop."—Old Play.
The Song of Victoria CollegeAedem colimus MinervaActi desiderioArtes nosse liberatesHoc in Hemispheric).Aedem colirnus MusarumSub Australi sidere;Nos a Musis maria longaNequeunt dividere.Studiosi, studiosaeCaptant sapientiam;Circa venti turbulentAuferunt desidiam.Omnium CollegicrumSurgit hoc novissimum:Ergo vires iuvenilesExhibent fortissimum.Nomen quod profert, sodalesFausto sit oraculo;Ut Deus regno reginaeFaveat curricula.Per vias laboriosasDoctrinarum omniumDocti ducunt professoresObsequens servitium.Corpus sanum ne sit absensProperamus ludereSubter iugum oecupantesFuste pilam trudere.Oratores, OratricesAudias effundereVoces dignas CiceroneEt sellas pertundere.Luce festa concinamusLaureatos iuvene;Ad Diploma gradientesConcinamus virginesUniversitas salveto;Cancellarius floreat;Ad honores largiendosMaltaos aunos maneat.Chorus.
O Victoria, sempiternaSit tibi felicitas;Alma mater, peramataPer aetates maneas.
Gaudeamus.
Gaudeamus igiturJuvenes dum sumus;Post jucundam juventutem,Post molestam senectutem,Nos habebit humus.Vita nostra brevis estBrevi fineturVenit mors velociter,Rapit nos atrociterNemini parcetur.Pereat Tristitia,Pereant osores!Pereat diabolusAnti-AcademicusAtque irrisores!Vivat AcademiaVivant ProfessoresVivat membrum quodlibet,Vivat membra quaelibetSemper sint in flore.Vivant omnes virgines,Faciles, formosae!Vivant et mulieres,Tenerae, am abiles,Bonae, laboriosae.Floreat Eduardus RexHaud minus quam MaterOb virtutes sic ameturOptimus ut appeleturPatriaeque Pater."Let me play the fool,With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come."—Merchant of Venice.
Programme.
Thursday Evening at 8 O'clock.
Part I.
1.
"Song of Victoria College" (Page 3)"Tempora" (Page 5)
2. Solo ... ... ... ... Miss Daisy Isaacs
3. "Funiculi Funicula" ... ... Glee Club
(Solo by Mr. F. P. Wilson)
4. "Spring Song" ... ... ... Glee Club
5. Solo ... ... ... ... Mr. B. J. Jacobs
6.
"Froggy" (Page 10)"Spikes" (Page 17)
Humourosities.
(Interval 5 minutes.)
Part II.
1. "The Colorado Coons"
[How! away with that audacious lady!—The Winter's Tale.]
2. Solo ... ... ... ... Mr. B. J. Jacobs
3. "Ching a Ling" .. ... ... Glee Club
(Solo by Mr. A. D. Lynch)
4.
"Victoria Inversa" (Page 12)" De Omnibus" (Page 7)
Farce "Sarah's Young Man."
Dramatis Personæ.
Mr. Moggridge (a victim to the greenmonster)Mr. Culyer HastingsHarry Fielding (rather prepossessing and rather fast)Mr. Julius KnightSam. Sloeleaf (of "The People's Teapot," and Sarah's Young Man)Mr. William LauriMrs. Moggridge (a sympathetic mamma)Mrs. Patrick CampbellAraminta (the admired and admirer of Harry)Miss Nance O'NeillSarah Tibbs (maid-of-all-work, with a strong antipathy for white hats)Miss Tittell Brune
"A thousand twanjing instruments will hum about my ear."—Shakespeare.
Tempora.
Tune:—" These is beauty in the bellow of the blast" (Mikado).
Now another year has passed since last we met,To celebrate in honour of the grad.,And our Joynt has sent a letter, hoping we'll behave much better,And great Stout has said we're going to the bad.Yes, he hates to see a student with his spirits so exub'rant,And especially if he's going to the bad.So we'll ask of you before we here begin,To be just as good and quiet as can be;Keep your farmyard imitations within strictest limitations,And consign your penny squeakers to the sea;For he doesn't think that squeakers should accompany the speakers,So we beg you to consign them to the sea.Chorus.
Since this is thus, we hope you'll be very respectfully merry.Restrain your fun,And make no fuss; but patiently hear him, and heartily cheer himWhen he has done.Of course you all have heard about the Rhodes,How our "Robby" left the others in the rear;And he shortly must be leaving, which will set us all a-grieving;Ask the girls, who think that "Robby" is a "dear."No, there can't be doubt about it, and aloud we here shall shout it,That the girls all think that "Robby" is a "dear."And Easterfield struts round in all his pride,Has a victor's smile imprinted on his brow;With a look so proud and "nobby" he says "Cast your eyes on 'Robby.'Yes, he did it, but 'twas I that taught him how."Then he raises up his figure, tries to seem a little bigger,With a look that says "'Twas I that taught him how."Chorus.
Since this is so, his cap has a feather he'll wear in all weatherTo meet our gaze.Before we go, as each one rejoices, let's raise up our voicesIn song of praise.At the tournament this year we held our own,For we managed to obtain the tennis shield,And our Froggy, he the smiler, proved himself a first-rate miler,And he very soon outdistanced all the field.With a judgment scientific and a stride that was terrific,Yes, he very soon outdistanced all the field.At debate although we did not get the scroll,Yet it really can't have been a great defeat,For George Toogood with his vampire, feeding on the British empire,Is a chap who is at talking hard to beat.Yes, Ostler's huge statistics and Toogood's cabalisticsMust in quantity and style've been hard to beat.Chorus.
Then here's a toast, here's tennis and talking, here's running and walking,And sports galore.And 'tis no boast, Victoria "Collers," if all are not scholars,Are men, that's more.
Why, what is love but Fortunes' tennis ball?" —Soliman and Perseda.
"Come, fill the cup and in the fire of SpringYour Winter garment of Repentance Fling." —Omar Khayyam.
Qui vit sans folie n'est pas si sage qu'il croit.
Supper Programme.
Toast—"The King"
("God Save the King")
Toast—"The Graduates"W. GillandersReplyH. H. Ostler
("Men may come and Men may go "—Page 13)
Toast—"College Council"G.F. DixonReplySir Robert Stout
(One verse "De Omnibus"
Toast—" The Professors"W. GillandersReplyProfessor Von Zedlitz
("Like as a Kid he Gambles "—Page 16)
Presentation of Medals.
ReplyF. A. De la Mare
("Song of the Kaleidoscope "—Page 18)
Students' Song (Page 18)
* * *
Dance.
Jog on, jog on, you revellers bright,And merrily dance awhile—O;A merry heart goes all the night,Your sad tires in a dance—O.(Adapted.)
De Omnibus.
By Striker.Air:—"The Rajah of Bhong."I'm in the wonderful Council's Chair,And Doctor Knight I did bump from there—soreThe great ChancellorThe great Chancellor.For there is nothing I cannot doYet there is one thing I'm fond of too—lawThe great Chancell-orThe great Chancell-or.King Dick refused to give us a giftTo build a college such as we're with —outSir Robert StoutSir Robert Stout.For a new building I've tried at top,So good King Richard I'd gladly knock—outSir Robert StoutSir Robert Stout.Chorus.
In me you see the Chancellor,The very best one that ever you saw;For I went to College,And thus gained much knowledge,The great and wonderful Chancellor.
"And then, the justice in fair stout belly with good capon lined."
—Shakespeare.I have much pleasure in telling youI sit on the students when they go too—farThe great RegistrarThe great Registrar.I wrote to the Students' Com-mit-teeAnd told them that they would have to be—wareThe great RegistrarThe great Registrar.I am a great man in the 'VarsityIt's Registrar the Senate did me—appointJ. William JoyntJ. William Joynt.I am a very learned M.A.For all the great scholars of the day—pointTo J. William JoyntTo J. William Joynt.Chorus.
In me you see the Registrar,The most important man by far;I censured the Students,For their imprudence,The great and wonderful Registrar.
"The times are out of joint"—Hamlet.
I am the wonderful over-lordOf all the Professorial Board— andThe Board's new ChairmanThe Board's new Chairman.Prof. Easter last year vacated the chairWhen I say this I very soon there—ranThe Board's new ChairmanThe Board's new Chairman.I am a marvel at foreign tonguesThough sounding their long words gives my lungs—fitsProfessor ZedlitzProfessor Zedlitz.Of playing golf I am very fond,While playing one day I was into a pond - tippedDonner und BlitzSaid Prof. Von Zedlitz.Chorus.
In me you see the Board's new ChairmanFor there they put their very best man;I'm considered by students,A great foreign nuisance;The tall and fine-looking Board's Chairman.
"The medicine of our house, how shall we do"! —The Winter's Tale.
I am the wonderful L.L.D.There is no doubt I deserve my degree—forThe Doctor of LawThe Doctor of Law.I made a speech on last capping day,But the whole audience voted it a—boreThe Doctor of LawThe Doctor of Law.I was for a year in the Council's chair,At the end of that time I was bumped from there—quiteC. Prendergast KnightC. Prendergast Knight.I am the wonderful Doctor of Laws,Never been known to take any course—rightC. Prendergast KnightC. Prendergast Knight.Chorus.
In me you see the Doctor of Law,The cleverest one that ever you saw;When the Council does meet,With wisdom I speak.The innocent looking Doctor of Law.
"O mysterious night! Thou art not silent; many tongues hast thou." —De Monfort.
"And does the road wind uphill all the way?Yes, to the very end.And does the journey take the whole long day?From morn till night, my friend."—Christina Rossetti.
Green and Gold.
By Franco.Air:—"The Old Brigade."These are the men we sing to-day,Whose metal is tried and true,Who fight our battles at work and playWherever there's work to do.When breath comes short in twilight grey,And foemen are breaking through,Show me the men who love the fray,Show me the faithful few.Chorus.
For whether its doing or thinkingWhether its bone or brain,These are the menLeading us when,We are fighting with might and main.Where shall we find our great H.P.R.Whose blood is the rarest blue;Chairman debater pride of the bar,Pick of the chosen few?Gracing the platform before our eyes,Frowning the student roar,Seeming to hear in pained surprise,Songs he has judged before!Chorus.
And whether its tennis or hockey,Whether its Council seat,Howard's the manLeading the van,It is Richmond that's hard to beat.Lift we a stave to another two,Men who have both been triedAt driving others exams to do,Almost until they died.Taking the students' heavy cares,Richmond sits for the law,And Zedlitz—tossing for penny faresStudent and professor.Chorus.
And whether its doing or thinking,However we scheme or plan,These are the menLeading us whenWe are striving as man to man.While we are singing the college song,And cheering the victor proud,Whom shall we sing of the student throng,Sing just as long and loud.Who so steady and accurate,Who so ready to work,Dixon's the boy you can calculate,Dixon will never shirk.Chorus.
So whether its hockey or running,Whether its tournament,Dixon's the manLeading the vanOf the fellows on working bent.Far from the College upon the hill,Far shall her children roamSeeking knowledge and gaining skill,To the Empire's Island Home.Great the work that the master asks,Great the heart and the brain,So put out best to the Empire's task,Tighten the golden chain.Chorus.
For whether its doing or thinkingSeek out the finest brain,Robbie's the manLeading the vanHe will strengthen the golden chain.After our College days are done,And our hall with ivy grown,Back from the fields where their fame was won,We'll gather to cheer them home.We'll sing the praise of strong and true,Wherever such men are seen,We'll raise a shout for the faithful who,Have worn the gold and green.Chorus.
For whether its here or in England,Those men shall be ever keen,Working a wayLoving the frayAs when flying the gold and green.
Froggy.
By Her Grandson.Tune:—" Hiawatha."
[No age possesses more than one great man. Book of Proverbs (in preparation).]
Sundry dog-fights have occured,That's a "bird,"Since you heard—Students murdEr capping songs;And one lusty victor,Always licked herJaws for pride belongs,To the winner in the fight;For the rightIs the might(That is trite),But ne'er a dog,Triumphant tail hasHeld so high as Frog.For Froggy won the mile at Easter—O!I guess he's not too slow,Although he's not a beau.We saw him spurt ahead in noble style,We held our breathing while,He won the mile.At the by-electi-on"Peoples' Don,"Sat upon,HutchesonAnd I—Izard.But the wordy kick heDealt poor Dicky,Was a bit too hard.Fisher's praises have been sung—He is young,Curses bungWith a tongueOf fire, and heWould never whimper,For your sympa-Thy.Then Fisher lost his temp'rate head, you see;Said he, "There's none like me,The mighty F.M.B."He must have seen things through a hazy fog;For he is but a log,Compared with Frog.There was once a Russian fleet,Did a feat—Went to meet,And delete,Some fishermen.They were told to steam herTo Tsushima;So they did; and thenSaw the Japanese ahead—Some are fled,Rest are dead,Bravely ledBy Davy Jones;Now Jappy whiskies,Sooth Rodvisky'sGroans.For when the fight came Roddy went below;He felt less seedy so.He's now at Sssebo.And Togo's proud; it's time we let him know,There's only one hero,Viz., Froggy Beau."Can I view thee panting, lying on thy stomach without sighing;Can I unmoved see thee dying on a log, expiring frog."—Pickwick Papers.
Victoria Inversa.
Tune:—"Riding Down from Bangor."Churn'd across the harbourCharter'd ferry-boat,Minstrels' twing-twang settingYoung hearts all a-doat;Reps. of rival factionsScored another wayAt the Students' PicnicOn that Easter day.Whilst the bashful pilotWooed yon fickle pier,How we held our hampers!(But beheld no Beere!)After ladies' hockey,After football field,(Dance's remnants) destinedSolace all to yield.Pleasantly the noontideStroll'd around to night:From the bush who dalliedSirens called to light;At the Hall assembledConsciously they came;Rush'd their seats for supper—Cakes and tea, the same.Talk of Tower of Babel!Talk of Togo's gun!Nought to that bun-scrambleHeard at Wellington,When, a mass of blushesAnd apology,Over his intended"Ike" capsized the tea!'Bove the roar ensuingSome caught murmurs such—"Oh! You clumsy beast, you!"— (ladies)"Did it wet you much? "—(men)Then the discord concert—Southern smoke-o first—Froggy's recitations!! -Ugh! —(pause)(Memory accurst!)Out in lunar darkness,Pour'd that pairing throng,Cram'd aboard the Countess —Alack! The lights were strong,So, with due decorumSang the whole way, when(O tempora! O horae!)We got there after ten.L'envci.
Gone is gay OtagoBack to gruesome graft;Canterbury's bravestWept upon their craft;Auckland with her drubbing"Shunted "; but I ween,None will in a hurryForget where they have been.(One for the referee!)
Now all Student fellowsRaise a throat with meFor that man of patience,For the brave M.C.—He's: All! Right!Who Is? Dixon Is! (men, recitative)Long life to our GeorgieAnd all who may be his."Tuna."
"Men May Come and Men May Go."
Tune:—Duet (Point and Elsit) "Yeoman of the Guard."
(Solo)
We have a song to sing O!Sing me your song O!.It is sung to the griefOf a Justice chief,Who glared at a motley throng O!It's the song of an undergrad all gay,Who's turn may come, though its far away,To shake the hand on his capping day,While he tries not to look at his ladye,Heighdy! Andy!'Misery me! Macadaydee!He'll blush no blush, and he'll say no say,As he tries not to look on his ladye!
(Solo)
We have a song to sing O!Sing me your song O!.It's the song of the boyIn that "beaks" employ,Whose hair will ne'er grow long O!It's the song of an Ostler late grown proud,Who turned up his nose at the chaffing crowdOf his sometime stable-mates, for heIs the chancellor's sec and an L.L.B.And his only care, from cram now free,Is to step in the boots of the C. J.C. J.! Some day!Glorious day! Roarius day!He'll swig no swig, for it's "infradig,"While he stands in the shoes of the C. J.
(Solo)
We have a song to sing O!Sing me your song O!It is sung with a sob,For we're losing Rob,And we have to say so-long O!It's a song for a genius, not a "stew,"Whose limbs are lank as his heart is true,Who college hops disdained to shunWhere he wooed the merrymaids everyone,Who stuck to the desk yet loved the sun,Who never jibbed till the job was done;The man whom the freshmen gaping sawAs he hove his head to the second floor;But his worth we sing and his weight ignore,For he is our own Rhodes Scholar!Good sort! Good sport!Jolly good sort! Jolly good sport!For his bays he wore and he made his score,As a good sport should and a scholar."Duplex.""Our deeds still travel with us from afar,And what we have been makes us what we are."
"Nothing succeeds like the success that knows how to draw a crowd."
—H. S. Merriman.
The Future Victoria College.
By "Salamanca."Tune:—"Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are marching."In the Girls' High School we stay,Ever waiting for the dayThat shall open our new college on the hill;Though the stone is truly laidYet hut slow progress is madeThough we've shouted at the Council till we're ill.When we're up at SalamancaWe shall have to chronicleHow there were a lot of fights over Cook and other sites,And at last they chose the place on Kelburne hill.Once the Council promised thatThey would take around the hat,And collect subscriptions for the building fund;But they Lave collected nil,Though the Students helped the billBy subscribing more than twice a hundred pound.Now's the time to press the Council,That we want some thousands more;So we'll make the Council work, and we mustn't let them shirk,Going round the town for cash from door to door.When we've settled at Kelburne,There'll be heaps of rooms to learnInteresting subjects such as law and torts;But we'd better spend some poundsOn football and hockey grounds,And at least a half-a-dozen tennis courts.For we are indeed athletic,Though we are supposed to cram,As we must get exercise, it will not be a surprise,If we do not patronise the Kelburne tram.When the Governor laid the stone,He came early on his own,But till they began he waited patiently,And the chairman, Doctor Knight,Thanked the Premier for the site,Though the Mayor gave all credit to the city.O Victoria sempiturna,Sit tibi felicitas,Are the words that we should shout, and we musn't be put out,By the trouble as to where we'll get the brass.
"Patience is a virtue." "Everything comes to him who waits, except the waiter."
"But some say that knowledge may come when wisdom lingers.' —H. S. Merriman
Graduates All.
By "—————- And Soda."Tune:—"Love was once a little boy."Ostler once a Blue-coat boy,So good, of course,Swat to him was then a joy,Our old war-horse,Now he's L.L.B., "Spike" sub.,And captain of the football club,Here's to someone's future hub.,And our great loss.Stout you know's the son of StoutThe Chan-cel-lor,Exams, all o'er at Court he'll spoutAt law, O lor'!An advocate we'll make of him,John Logan Stout is sure to win,Cases will come rolling in,And tin galore.A braw Scot without a fief,A. H. Johnstone,A month's elapsed since his first brief,Bill Sykes v. Bone:Feeling in that Court grew tense;He 'cused the Beak for want of sense,For fixing costs at eighteenpence;Then plaintiff's groan.M.A. Wilson next will be,Mus. D. (Sung M.U.S.D.)Though honorary this degreeIs sure to be,Still surely all of you must seeHow tunefully he sings a gleeIn any key from B to E,Our great F.P.A captain smart have Hockey II,You must confess;A goal-keeper and M.A too,With F.C.S.,A man of many varied parts,Sure he'll break the ladies' heartsWhen for Oxford he departs,(To win success).The skipper of the ladies' crew,A B.A., too,We know quite well you are no shrew,A word to you.When on the line-out do not fight,Though the game be at its height,The referee may be in sight,And blow tut-to.Let us now of others tell,Who scored a pass,M. M. Rigg and Isabel,Were both first class,M. C. Sprott at Greek O.K.,A Senior Schol' has gained this day,Now for his coaching we shall pay.Or fail, Alas!"Keep a gamester from, the dice,A good student from his books, and "tis wonderful."
Like as a Kid, He Gambles.
Tune:—"Riding down from Bangar."Riding down from Newtown,On a Thorndon tram,Sat two blithe professors,At whose feet we cram.One is good at classics,Jokes at girls' expense,T'other French and German,Teaches students dense.Empty place behind them;Passing Willis Street,College student enters,Takes the vacant seat."How violently they argue,"Thinks this student when,Wafted words of wisdom,Reach him now and then.He draws a little closer,As they in concord join,Sees Von from his pocketDraw a copper coin,As Student quite astonished,Looks on with vacant stareVon quietly proceeds toToss who'll pay the fare.We don't think much of gambling,We've got used to his waysBut still he ought to keep itFrom the public gaze.He's up to date and slangy,He's played such games before;But public exhibitionsWe really must deplore.
"Some play for gain; to pass the time; others play For nothing; loth do piety the fool, I sag." —Heath.
"Spikes."
By "Ko-Ko."Tune.—" I've got a little list."—Mikado.Of 'Varsity anomalies an undergrad, endures,We've got a little list, we've got a little list,And intend to treat the patients with some mustard plaster cures!Au role philanthropist—and the "fatals" won't be missed!There's the prof. who models all his prose on bashful Cicero,And who thinks it's not conceivable the other Johnnies know;And the prof. who makes your dinner cold by lecturing ad lib;And the student who is always there and scrapes a scratchy nib,And the chap who knows you crib his notes, and writes an awful fist;It's a cert they won't be missed, it's a cert they won't be missed.Chorus:
We've got 'em on the list, we've got them on the list,It's a cert. they won't be missed, its a cert they won't be missed.There's the charming lady-student who thinks hockey not genteel;She's down upon the list, she's down upon the list.Those to whom all sport is wormwood and scrum does not appeal,We don't think they'll be missed, we're sure they won't be missed.There's the sort who's always bilious, and who swots on Saturdays,When you ask him to oblige you he's not quite sure if he plays;And the tribe who break appointments, and who "do" you for the court,And who miss the train and ferry when they know the team is short,And then on explanations and excuses will insist,It's a cert they won't be missed, it's a cert they won't be missed.Chorus:
We've got 'em on the list, we've got 'em on the list,Ten to one they won't be missed, ten to one they won't be missed.All Dutch-built, tipped, and tired, discontented janitors—You bet they're on the list, you bet they're on the list!Who plump for "early closing" and who promptly lock the doors,What a lark if they are missed, what a lark if they are missed!All fellows who bleat loudly, and who don't speak loud enough,And the toney chaps with collars, and the same with lots of cuff,And the kind that sotto voce dub their own prose "pretty fair,"And the chump who, when you're listening, interrupts with "full-point there"And the wearies who invariably in coming late insist:—It's a cert they won't be missed, it's a cert they won't be missed.Chorus:
They are ticked off on the list, they are ticked off on the list,Any odds they won't be missed, any odds they won't be missed.There's the kid just fresh from college, who attempts to pile on frill,He's another on the list, he's another on the list.And we've squared the prof. to mark him, so he's bound to come a spill,He's the sort that won't be missed, he's the sort that won't be missed,There's the man who innocently beats you for a libr'ry book,And the man who wants subscriptions, on the watch for whom to rook.We'll try glue, and mustard plaster, pepper, filings, Indian ink,And all compounds of which our altruistic brains can think:All the num'rous knarks and nuisances in curing we'll persist,Au role philanthropist, au role philanthropist.Chorus:
All num'rous knarks and nuisances in curing we'll persist,Au role philanthropist, au role philanthropist.Final Chorus:
For we've got 'em on the list, we've got 'em on the list,It's a cert, they won't be missed, it's a cert they won't be missed.
"O heaven, that such companions thou'ldst unfold!" —Othello.
"Song of the Kaleidoscope."
Tune: —"Killaloe."To perpetuate a name, to preserve a queenly fame,We some time since were "founded" —in an Act,And tho' no doubt 'tis true, we're "kept steadily in view,"We haven't much advanced beyond that fact.Still we've struggled and we'ye fought, and defeat has mattered noughtIf we've snatched a hard won Victory now and then,If we haven't bricks and mortar, and many things we "oughter,"There is no one will deny we have the men.You can give no points to Froggy, tho' his knees are somewhat groggy,You should see him lift his shoulders at the finish of a mile;Granted that his logic's hazy, on the "line out" he's a daisy,Ake! Ake! Kia! Toa! Come! "Good old Freddy, smile!"
"Here, with a cup that's stored to the brim." —Pericles.
College Song.
Air:—"Down among the dead men."To the true University man let us fill,Hard player, high thinker, wide reader, at will—Who serves first College and after, himself,Whose care is for knowledge and not for the pelf.Who tilts not the dye with a kindling eye,Down among the dead men let him lie!Here's life and luck to the College girl,Likes she piety, tea, or lancers' whirl;Who risks at the net the tan o' the sun,And "sticks" at hockey scorns to shun.Who drains not lief till the last drop dry,Down among the dead men let him lie!