Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday and Saturday - 25th & 27th June 1908Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday and Saturday - 25th & 27th June 1908[electronic resource]Creation of machine-readable versionKeyboarded by KiwiTechCreation of digital imagesKiwiTechConversion to TEI-conformant markupKiwiTechca. 86 kilobytesVictoria University of Wellington LibraryWellingtonModern English,
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2016Victoria College Students' Carnival. Thursday and Saturday - 25th & 27th June 1908Victoria University College Students' AssociationWellington1908Source copy consulted: Victoria University of Wellington Library, JC Beaglehole Room, LG741 V C28873918
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Victoria College Students' CarnivalCapping Day.Concert Chamber, Town HallThursday and Saturday, 25th & 27th June, 1908, at 8p.m.
Thos little thinkest what a little foolery governs the world.
Selden
The yearly course that brings this day about shall never see it but a holiday - a wicked day, and not a holy day.
King John
Smoke "Cameo" Cigarettes, the Best.
Graduates of the Year.
Honours in Arts.
Graham Roy Barnett, First Class in Mathematics and Mathematical Physics.Edward William Beaglehole, First Class in Mental Science.Isabella Donnet Bruce, Third Class in English and German.Margaret Frances Dale, Third Class in English and French.Siegfried Eichelbaum, Second Class in English and German.William Harold Hoult, Second Class in English and French.Diamond Jenness, First Class in Latin and Greek.Allan Macdougall, First Class in English and French.
"Why what a very cultivated kind of youth, this kind of youth must be."—Patience.
Masters of Arts.
Graham Roy BarnettEdward William BeagleholeElsie Margaret BollingerIsabella Donnet BruceAllan MacdougallMargaret Frances DaleSiegfried EichelbaumWilliam Harold HoultDiamond JennessFanny Ruth Livingtone
"They have been to a good feast of languages and stolen the scraps."—Love's Labour Lost
Doctor of Science.
John Henderson.
"Am I particularly intelligent, or remarkably studious, or excruciatingly witty, or unusually accomplished, or exceptionally virtuous?—Patience.
Bachelor of Science.
Annie Inkster.
"Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child?"—Byron.
Bachelors of Arts.
Francis WilliamStanislaus BartleyDouglas Shelley BedingfieldGilbert Vere BogleGertrude Florence CookeAmy Elizabeth CurrieLouisa Naomi DallastonIvor DaveyArthur Benjamin FittWilliam Henry Leider FosterMargaret Elizabeth GibbsCharles Thomas GrahamKathleen Mary HewetsonEllen May HildrethAile WoodhamEdith Miriam HindJames HuttonWilliam Alexander LyonElizabeth Stewart MorrisonFlorence NeilsonBeatrix Mary NicholsonMatthew Henry OramJohn Wallace RossFanny Louisa SmithConstance Taiaroa StrackFrederick GeorgeAlbert StuckeyIda Frances Tennent
"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens."—As You Like It.
Bachelors of Laws.
John William HannanHumphrey Francis O'LearyWilliam PerryWilliam Vernon RoutPercival John Scantlebury
"No pretence to intellectual eminence or scholarship sublime."—Iolanthe.
Senior Scholar.
Frances William Stanislaus Bartley.—Mental Science.
"I mean to show things as they really are."—Anon.
Luce festa concinamusLaureatos iuvenes;Ad diploma gradientesConcinamus virginesUniversitas salveto;Cancellarius floreat;Ad honores largiendosMultos annos maneat.
Kitto & Graham, Tailors and Habit Makers, 18 Manners Street
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
The Song of Victoria College.
Aedem colimus MinervaeActi desiderioArtes nosse liberalesHoc in Hemispherio.Aedem colimus MusarumSub Australi sidere;Nos a Musis maria longaNequeunt dividere.Studiosi, studiosaeCaptant sapientiam;Circa venti turbulentiAuferunt desidiam.Omnium CollegiorumSurgit hoc novissimum;Ergo vires juvenilesExhibent fortissimum.Nomen quod profert sodalesFausto sit oraculo;Ut Deus regno reginaeFaveat curriculo.Per vias laboriosasDoctrinarum omniumDocti ducunt professoresObsequens servitium.Corpus sanum ne sit absensProperamus ludereSubter jugum occupantesFuste pilam trudere.Oratores, OratricesAudias effundereVoces dignas CiceroneEt sellas pertundere.Chorus.
Oh Victoria, sempiternaSit tibi felicitas;Alma mater, peramataPer aetates maneas.
Gaudeamus.
Gaudeamus igiturJuvenes dum sumus;Post jucundam juventutemPost molestam senectutemNos habebit humus.Vita nostra brevis estBrevi finieturVenit mors velociterRapit nos atrociterNemini parcetur.Pereat TristitiaPereant osores !Pereat diabolusAnti-AcademicusAtque irrisores !Vivat AcademiaVivant ProfessoresVivat membrum quodlibetVivant membra quaelibentSemper sint in flore.Vivant omnes virgines,Faciles formosae !Vivant et mulieresTenarae, amabiles,Bonae, laboriosae.Floreat Eduardus RexHaud minus quam MaterOb virtutes sic ameturOptimus ut appelleturPatriaeque Pater.
Our Stock of Suitings is Specially Selected. Kitto & Graham, 18 Manners Street.
You will find "Lucy" all right.
Vanity! Vanity!Air: "Now Lasses and Lads."
"'Vanity, Vanity,' saith the preacher, 'yea, all is Vanity !' "
Now fetch out a couple of lovely quids,And buy a most lovely gown,And do as traditional etiquette bids,And you may be mistaken for Brown !And you may be mistaken for Brown !!Yes, you may be mistaken for Brown !!!As likely as not. you will look like a swot,A classical swot like John Brown !As likely as not, you will look like a swot,A classical swot like John Brown !And think of the dignity that it will addTo your figure, yea, even to you,For this is no useless scholastical fad,Why, you may be mistaken for Hugh !
(repeat twice)
Yes, develop a bit, both in waistcoat and witAnd you may be mistaken for Hugh !
(repeat)
And if you are reckoned a bit of a bore,And for details should happen to crave,Yet don't know the decimals for three over four,You may bear some resemblance to Dave!Shut the windows up tight, before starting to skite,And you may be mistaken for Dave !!Or if you are smiling and happy and sleek,And look like a regular don;Yet somehow seem simple and childlike and meek;Men may think from afar you are Von !A baron, by Jove, and a fashionable cove,Why you may be mistaken for Von !!And think what the ladies will save in their dress,If no one knows what is beneath.The cost of their toilet may be somewhat less,When gowned right up to the teeth.Yes, their head may emerge out of silk-seeming sergeWhen gowned right up to the teeth.So dive in your pocket and bring forth your purseAnd shell out your guineas twain,And pretend that you like it, forebearing to curse—Yea, vanity ! all is vain !As likely as not, you will seem what you're not—Yea, vanity! all is vain !
The Latest and Best Materials combined with the Best Workmanship ensure the excellence of our Tailoring—Kitto & Graham.
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Adamsonalia.
(By an Admirer.)Air: "Father O'Flynn."O, I'm Adam's son and exceedingly Able,My pedigree's long as a submarine cable,And Eve
Mr. Eve is Commissioner for the New Zealand University in England.
tipped me straight as the pick of the stable,O, I was the flower of Edinburgh then.But after some thought and much cold calculation,I couldn't refuse the polite invitationOf Wellington Champions of High Education,For they are such very respectable men.And of course I had heard of that gay dog Justinian,Even had read his most learned opinionRe "New Zealand Times" at the suit of "Dominion,"Notable battle 'twixt knights of the pen.And had the K.C.'s been selected on merit,Then H.D. and Findlay and Chapman and SkerrettWould all have made way for that legal-point ferret,Justinian, the prize of respectable men.Again I was told that the lot of the legalEmployee and student is far off from regal,His screw is absorbed by the afternoon-tea gal(For she's the young lady that's known as "Land Tran.")And who to brass plate and a court-case aspires,To prove all the other man's witnesses liars,Must first face the terrible practice of Myers—Yet Tud says that he's a respectable man.I'd heard that the damsels at College were flirty;I'd heard of that dangerous demagogue "Bertie,"How, always for trouble and battle alert, heWill "render account" to "Plain Bill" if he can.I thought if the girls of N.Z. weren't a' jibbin'At having the likes of young Edward Fitzgibbon,There might be a chance for some rice and some ribbonFor me, a most highly respectable man.And so I left home with the tears of a nation,A bottle of Scotch, and a great reputation(The last-named I nearly forgot at the station),To throw in my lot with Mackenzie's brave clan.I've met all your men, and tasted the nectarOf converse with joint and his satellite Hector,The latter of whom I've the greatest respect for,For he is a highly respectable man.
Yes, we May be on the wrong side of Manners Street, but we Are the Right Firm for High-Class Tailoring : Kitto & Graham.
You will find "Lucy" all right.
Memorabilia.
Air: "Ring-tailed Coon."
"This costume chaste is but good taste misplaced."—Patience.
She once thought much of blouses—A stripe to wear in town;He sported nobby "trowziz"—Sing ho ! for the long-tailed gown.But now we care no more for cut,And stripes are no importance, but—Oh, dear oh, sing ho ! for the long-tailed gown, etc.Our new "debating ladies"Are very hard to reach.They say a spade a spade is—Sing ho ! for the maiden speech.They say (and we mostly think it's true),"There's nothing on earth that a girl can't do "—Oh, dear oh, sing ho! for the maiden speech, etc.We once thought Mac was funny,His jokes are sadly off;The latest for my money,Is who but the brand-new Prof.He has sentenced us all to six months' hardPicken up roots in his own back yard—Oh, dear oh, sing ho ! for the brand-new Prof.Philosophy and digits,They hardly seem to mix;And gowns produce the fidgets—Sing ho! for the freshman's fix.What positive integral worth is incurredBy the wearing of gowns (which seems absurd) ?—Oh, dear oh, it's all in the freshman's fix, etc.—"E.'
Viyant Omnes VirginesAir: "When I was a student at Cadiz."
"I know the croaking chorus of the frogs."—Aristophanes.
When I was a student at College,I used to attend a debate, debate,And there I gained great stores of knowledgeFrom speeches of ardour and weight.Chorus :Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk through the nightTalk through the night, talk thro' the night.Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk through the night,And settle the fate of mankind, mankind.But no lady ever was seen there,Except in the audience below, below;Then rose up a band of the fair ones,Determined this fine art to know.Chorus :Talk, talk, talk, etc.Till they settle their plan of campaign.
Now we've got our franchise for women,From the House soon we'll rule all the state.In sport and in wit we can meet them,So we'll teach these raw men to orate.Chorus :Talk, talk, talk, etc.,Oh, we will teach men to debate.We've got our committee and chairmaid,O'Leary has has wished us success, success.Fitzgibbon we've thanked for all kind aid;Von Haast will his praise soon express.Chorus :Talk, talk, talk, etc.,Plunket medal will be our reward.
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
Les Enfants.
Air: "Keep down the Middle of the Road."
Sing "Booh to you—Pooh, pooh, to you ! that's what I shall say"—Patience
If you go up College way,Any time of night or day,And you meet a poor young mother in despair,Who has lost her darling child,Don't stand there meek and mild,Please to show her up the library stair;For she's sure to find it there,Perched high upon a chair,Swatting German, Pol. Econ., or Hebrew prose;And Mac is quite distraughtSeeking desks of every sort,To fit the infant that to College goes.Chorus.
Send up your children,Do send your children,Send up your children to the Coll.As a crêche it's just O.K.So send them right away.Oh! Do send your children up to Coll.
Nothing in this world is certain. The nearest possible thing to certainty is the satisfaction you will obtain from Kitto & Graham.
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
Now, Von, you're up to date,And know at any rateHow to keep up the interest in your class;Take milk—a pint will do—And sugar—just a few—And brew these infants "bottles" on the gas.And, John, although they cryBecause your Latin's dry,You can hardly take the infants on your lap;So mix some honey sweetWith your "periods" and "feet,"And make your sparkling prose into a "pap."Chorus—Send up your children, etc.Our new profs, (Scotties twa)Are different very farIn the rate of progress that they make each day;For Adamson's too fast,And can go ahead "full blast,"Because He has no "chickies" to delay.But our Mathematics don,Who's a replica of John,And a prof. who teaches how to rule red lines,Is hindered every day,By stopping on the wayTo hush the teething infants' peevish whines.Chorus—Send up your children. etc.—"Pontifex."
Memories From Abroad.
Air: "Sally Horner."
"This is the very coinage of your brain"—Hamlet.
I have journeyed far, 'neath sun and star, in lands remote,I have been the mate of potentate and man of note,Yet whatever gap may sever us by land or sea,Salamanca is the anchor of my memory.Chorus.
And I wonder as I ponder, if she's there to-day,Standing sleeveless, bare and leaveless, on her hill of clay;Do the breezes still cause sneezes as they enter throughAlma Mater's ventilators, as they used to do ?Does the Chancellor still wag his jaw on Capping DayOn the qualities of 'Varsities in U.S.A. ?Here in China they've a finer sense of fun by far,And a speaker grows much meeker when he's boiled in tar.Chorus.
And I wonder as I ponder if the Profs. still work;Is an emu on the menu of Professor Kirk ?Here by Niger, thoughts of tiger might arouse his smiles,But they'd show him, gently throw him to the crocodiles.
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Is the frisky Frog, that gay old dog, still fancy free ?Are the graduates all heavy-weights like Jenness D. ?Is MacDougall still as frugal as a Scot should be ?And does Skinner eat his dinner in the library ?Chorus.
And I wonder as I ponder how the girls all be;Angelina, have you seen her ? does she weep for me ?Here in Aden many a maiden have I met and seen,None is fairer than a wearer of the gold and green.Has our football team, that faded dream, regained its dash ?Does our Tommy boast he's joined the host that plays for cash ?Is O'Leary, plump and cheery, still the Coll.'s bright star ?And is Mary still invariably dogged by "Pa" ?Chorus.
And I wonder as I ponder, if I'll e'er come backWhere the strollers act as rollers on the stony track.Arizona doesn't own a place I so respect:Alma Mater, incubator of the intellect.
Pen and Sward.
Chorus.
Air: "Huntsmen's Chorus," from "Der Freischutz," (Weber.)When air's like wine in sunny weather,And the breeze blows cobwebs from the brains;When Latin's folly and Law's a tether,And the blood goes dancing through the veins,—Then hey ! for where your fancy racesAway from city's stifling gripTo the playing fields and open places—And let the world of toilers slip !Then here's to the long white road that beckons,The climb that baffles, the risk that nerves;And here's to the merry heart that reckonsThe rough with the smooth and never swerves !Be it hockey stick, or oval leather,Skiff, racquet, rod or gun,—Here's luck! for the sport we've had together,For chances lost and battles won;For the wicket true, and the field in fettle,And the man who's safe for a hottish catch;For the losing team that shows its mettle,And the man who wins his heat from scratch.Then here's to the sportsman's road that beckons,The climb that baffles, the risk that nerves;And here's to the merry heart that reckonsThe rough with the smooth, and never swerves !
'Phone 2312. Address: 18 Manners Street. Occupation: Tailoring (but only the best). Kitto & Graham.
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
ProgrammeThursday and Saturday Evenings, 25th and 27th June, 1908, at 8 o'clock.Let the singing singersWith vocal voices, most vociferous,In sweet vociferation, out-vociferateEv'n sound itself.—Carey.
Part I.
1. Capping Songs—
"O Victoria."
"The Pen and Sward."
"Wisdom married to immortal verse."—Wordsworth. (
Awkward pauses attended to by the "Esprida Corps."
)
2. Glee Club.—
Glee—"To Sylvia."
Part Song—"Breath Soft, Ye Winds."
"Sang nothing in particular
And sang it very well."—Iolanthe.
3.SketchMr. A. W. Newton
"There's a lean fellow beats all conquerors."
4. Quartet—
"I love my Love in the Morning "
"Poins, Poins, these be noisome fellows."—Henry IV.
5.Solo"The Waking of Spring"Miss C. T. Strack
"Her voice was ever soft, gentle and low—an excellent thing in woman.—Lear.
6. Niggers
"Whose vocal villainies All desire to shirk.—Mikado.
7.Solo Miss May Newman
"She is pretty to walk with
And witty to talk with.—Suckling.
8. Haka
"Now, is not this ridiculous ? Explain it if you can."—Patience.
9. Capping Songs—
"Memories from Abroad."
"Gaudeamus."
"Little will be left of me,
In the coming bye-and-by."—Patience.
Interval of Ten Minutes.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash," for Winter Underclothing, Gloves and Overcoats.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash," for Winter Underclothing. Gloves, and Overcoats.
You will find "Lucy" all right.
Part II.
"South Sea Bubbles"
A Comic Opera in Three Acts.
Dramatic Personæ.
Professor Watt-Buncombe (on tour of the world)Mr. A. H. BogleDr. Phin Leigh (a Minister of the Crown)Mr. G. Rae HutchesonAdam (a Labourer)Dr. D. N. IsaacsMrs. Watt-Buncombe (Wife of Professor)Miss D. Isaacs
Auckland Press Reporters, Professors and Students.
Act IAuckland.Act IIDaihape (on the Main Trunk Line).Act IIIWellington.
Supper Programme.
"And men sit down to that nourishment
Which is called supper."—Love's Labour Lost.
Toast—"The King""God Save the King"Toast—"The Graduates"F. A. de la Mare
"What is to be done with these here helpless chaps."—H.M.S. Pinafore.
Reply—H. F. O'Leary
"Plump and cheery."—College Song.
"Students' Song."
Toast—"The New Zealand University"H. E. EvansReply—J. W. Joynt, Esq.
"He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one."—Henry VIII.
Toast—"The College Council"D. S. SmithReply—T. R. Fleming, Esq.Toast—"The Professors"A. MacDougallReply—Professor MackenzieToast—"Absent Friends"J. M. Hogben
"Auld Lang Syne."
Students' Song.
Air: "Down among the dead men."
"Let their praises be sung with an eloquent tongue to lutes highly strung."—College Song.
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 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 !
Dance : "A very merry, dancing, drinking,
Laughing, quaffing and unthinking time."—Dryden.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash," for Winter Underclothing. Gloves, and Overcoats.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash," for Winter Underclothing. Gloves, and Overcoats.
Opening Chorus.
Air: "Kermesse Chorus" (Faust).Glorious country, isle so fair,Sunny climate, cloudless air,Home of the Maori, land of the fern,Beauty reigning where'er we turn,By thy legislators' ardourHast thou bettered Nature's aim,By the tourist hast thou reachedUniversal fame.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash," for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
Here is no city's smoke, no city's din,Far away from poverty, strife and sin;Here 'neath the grassy slopes on harbours grand,Stately homes and palaces proudly stand.By the Government's devotion,Peace and plenty fills the state—Every worker, every man,Happy with his fate.Be you a fisherman, be you a shot,Here your very heart's desire may be got;Be you a Socialist, be you a peer,Hospitality untold waits you here.All are welcome but CelestialsTo this earthly paradise;"God's own country" ever shallTo perfection rise.
Act 1.—Auckland.
Chorus of Auckland Press Reporters.
Air: "A policeman's lot is not a happy one" (Pirates of Penzance.)If you're looking for the noblest of professions, of professions,Reporting is the very one you need, one you need;We should really like to give you our impressions, our impressions,But that modesty's a portion of our creed, of our creed.It's the leading avocation, there's no other, there's no otherCan be found alike it underneath the sun, 'neath the sunOh ! take one consideration with another, with another,A reporter's lot is quite a happy one.Oh ! unless there's any thinking to be done, to be done,A reporter's lot is quite a happy one.We have duties very wide and variegated, variegated—There's a fascination quaint in getting news getting news—But by some of course our powers are overrated, overrated,Who expect the truth in ev'ry word we use, word we use.We describe in language full of erudition, erudition,
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash." for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
Smoke "Cameo" Cigarettes, the Best.
Tennis matches played 'twixt Roosevelt and the Church, and the Church,And there's always an egg-laying competition, competition,While for tram announcements every day we search,And unless there's any thinking to be done, to be done,A reporter's life is quite a happy one.Oh ! the Empire City's daily sheets are always on the brag,That their village is the Universe's hub, is the hub;While in by-gone days the morning "Times" was quite a toney rag,Now the organ of the local Kennel Club, Kennel Club.The "Squatter's 'Minion" gets the "Times" on meta-phoric toast,And smites it in a manner most ungodly, most ungodly;But for purity of language you had best obtain the "Post,"And read the little bits by Henry Bodley.Oh ! take one consideration with another, with another,A reporter's life is quite a scrappy one.
Solo—watt-Buncombe.
Air: "When I go out of door." (Patience.)Now that I've come ashoreOf press reporters a scoreAll shoving and hustlingA-jostling and bustlingEncircle me as before.When I was an Oxford don,I met a smart fellow named VonWe used to play pokerWith a joint TapiocaA Trinity Dublin John.I became a Professor one dayAnd forthwith was hurried away,I packed up to travelTo try and unravelThe Socialist schemes of the day.I went to the Emerald IsleTo visit auld Pat for a whileThen journeyed by tramTo the Assouan damTo visit the Sphinx and the Nile.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash." for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
You will find "Lucy" all right.
I was told to see Naples and dieThough really I cannot say why'Twas very respectableHighly delectableThough somewhat inclined to be high.I roamed with the Romans in RomeAnd visited Homer at HomeI called on the ShahAnd also the CzarBut the latter was not at home.Saw Paris on the SeineBerlin on the SpreeThen took me by trainTo traverse the mainBy the side of the Zuyder Zee.I went for a wireless walkFrom Liverpool to New YorkGot hold of a niggerWho wasn't de rigeurAnd endeavoured to cleanse him with chalk.SlowlyBut I was till this day in JuneAesthetically out of tune,As a beautiful treatThere is nothing to beatThe poetical Auckland moon.
Chorus.
Air: "Girls of Gottenburg" (Girls of Gottenburg).Oh ! If you are a stranger hereAnd want to travel anywhere,We have a tourist system grand,To take you safely through the land.The tourist agent you will meet,You'll find him loafing in the street.He'll tell about our sunny clime,Our lakes unique, our sounds sublime.Of Rotorua's fame you'll hear,Its costly baths, its balmy air,And how in sulphur pools all day,You sit and boil your skin away—Yes that is what the agents say.So off you goTo the bureau,And thereupon.You ring the bell and ask for Donne,And free of chargeHe will enlargeUpon the many varied beauties of this Wonderland.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash." for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
Smoke "Cameo" Cigarettes, the Best.
At Wanganui you should seeThe local Rhine, the scenery;For crazy sculls 'tis unsurpassed,For though they Bakewell there they fast.Before you leave this land, to viewYou'd better note a place or two:The Napier sky which never rains,The rabbitless Otago plains,Dunedin's harbour wide and deep,And little Nelson fast asleep,The Christchurch winds, the wet West Coast,Pelorus Jack—New Zealand's boast—About these things we always boast.We think our landSo very grandAnd quite as fineAs any state above the line.So free of charge,We all enlargeUpon the many varied beauties of this Wonderland.
Act II.—Daihape (on the Main Trunk Railway)
Opening Chorus.
Air: "Let the Hills Resound with Song."Be the season what it may,We are armed against the fray,Our fights are fought in realms of sport, Our all is sport.Be the contest what you will,We aspire to crown the hillThat gives us vict'ry sweetest when 'tis dearest bought.Sport we wage,For 'tis our heritage,For Waterloo was won upon the fields of play;Be ours the nameTo ever play the game,With nought to gain beyond the pride to win the day.When summer days are long,On the playing fields we throng;When fortunes rise unto the skies, We feel true joy.But when our fortunes fall,With backs against the wall,Let's suffer then our foe's success without annoy.In youth or mellowed age,Spring's warmth or winter's rage,Our blood runs fast with lines there cast, Where sport is king.Our haunts the open fields,
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash." for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
You will find "Lucy" all right.
For the joy that action yields,When summer suns with piercing ray their pleasance bring.When winter's hereWith faded leaves and sere,The leathern sphere is hot pursued with nerve and vein.But gain or loss,They've steer'd the truest course,Who've fought the fight for love of sport with nought to gain.As when hunting in the field,When your rod or gun ye wield,Your pleasure's most, you're joyful most With aim that's true;So your ev'ry sense should thrill,Your heart with gladness fill,Whene'er your sport be honest, clean, untainted, true.
Duet-Adam and Watt-Buncombe.
Air: "Two Little Sausages" (Girls of Gottenburg).Adam : Once to an isle in the blue PacificOne little cuckoo came,Watt-Buncombe: On that isle there lived in peaceA kiwi happy and tame.Adam : The cuckoo was won by that island's charmSo he telegraphed home to his mate,Watt-Buncombe : And they took the kiwi's nest in the cabbage palmAnd the little bird left to his fate.Both : What a pair of cheeky little cuckoos,Theirs was a very selfish act,When they seized the little islandFor to settle there in style andPoor little kiwi sacked;Yes it really was a very bad act.Adam : Long years after on that isle a statesmanThought of a very good plan.Watt-Buncombe; I've not yet heard of a politician thinkingI suppose that here they can.Adam : Said he, "In the stead of the old bullock drayLet us have the Iron Horse."Watt-Buncombe : So a Main Trunk line was begun one dayTo be finished in a year, of course.Both : What a very clever politicianHis was a very happy plan.All the loafers get enjoyment,For it gives them such employmentAs only state jobs can;Yes, it really was a very good plan.
Try Wallace & Gibson, "The Kash." for Winter Underclothing, Gloves, and Overcoats.
Smoke "Lucy Hinton" Tobacco.
Watt-Buncombe: Paid by the state, your politiciansEvidently cut a dash.Adam : After talking rot, they sleepily at midnightAllocate the public cash.Watt-Buncombe : As for Public Works I believe that the loadOf temptation on a man is hard,Adam: Each takes home a bridge or a roadTo decorate his own back yard.Both : What a lot of stupid politicians,Theirs is a very silly plan;Though a politician neverIs imbursed for being clever,If he to think beganIt would really be a very good plan.Enter Dr. Phin Leigh.
Solo—Dr. Phin Leigh.
Air: "When Frederick was a Little Lad." (Pirates of Penzance.As an undergrad I always hadA brain so very clever,That bye and bye, I thought I'd tryTo lease it out for ever.I was of the horde supporting WardAnd this is what he me told:"Your brain's too good for a lease but couldYou let me have the freehold,"And now my pals the LiberalsLay claim to all I've uttered,And their claim is sound since I have foundWhich side my bread is buttered.The Savage horde they made me lord,And arrayed me in resplendence :At the College here they made me chairTo reward my non-attendance.Though from rowdy boys I object to noiseWho blow with horn and squeaker.In the footlight's glare on the platform here,I'd pass for a first class speaker.To reward my work he should not shirk,In the Premier's ear I dinned oh!So a scheme he hatched to leave unlatchedThe Legislative window.With the country's pile I live in styleAs a brainy lawyer should do,But I don't forget my friends as yetAs a vulgar person would do.So I went and saw a Prof. of LawA very handy craftsman,
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I might do worse with the country's purseThan make him Crown Law Draftsman.My brain it teems with endless schemesTo socialise opinion,And when that's found I shall be crownedThe King of this Dominion.
ChorusAir: ''Berlin is on the Spree" (Girls of Gottenburg).Oh ! you may have heard beforeOf a certain windy moundWith the houses perched on cliffsOn the minimum of ground;Where the streetways are so wideTwo can walk them side by side,It's the first and foremost city in New Zealand, Free land, Zealand.It's the first and foremost city in New Zealand.The Empire City seeUpon the hills beside the sea,Though you search you cannot get aCity site that's any betterThan the site on Lambton Quay.No Christchurch plains for me,The ocean's wave I love to see,Though Auckland may be Eden,And Paradise Dunedin,Yet Wellington will do for me.Oh ! the mob that there abide,Cosmopolitan they are,Though they nearly all are Chows,Or are members of the Bar;Though they've lost their Lead in art,Grabbing money on the mart,They're the first and foremost people in New Zealand, Free land, Zealand,They're the first and foremost people in New Zealand.The Empire City see, &c,In the month of April last,They were Achin' for a Mayor,And though Duthie Fished for votes,His lopsided ways were clear.Oh ! the leading lights so shineThat the natives all opineIt's the first and foremost city in New Zealand, Free land, Zealand,It's the first and foremost city in New Zealand.The Empire City see, &c.
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Act III.—Wellington.
Opening Chorus of Students.
Air: "The Soldiers of the Queen."Have you seen our Professorial horde ?Their manners you can ne'er forget them.Those who form the Professorial BoardWould talk all night if students let them.Most of them are Scotchmen—Scotch imported Profs.With accents thick as London's fog.Teach ? They teach us nought.How can we be taughtBy a Prof. who speaks a foreign tongueWhose lectures weighty are as long ?"Not Understood" should be their motto,They always make their lectures so.But spite their eccentricity,Loquacity,Rusticity,In the search for truth and liberty,Our Profs. are ever to the fore.Our knowledge gained and trophies won,Our tasks achieved, our labour done,In all our ventures, ev'ry one,They aid and urge us ever on.Brown or Gray, whate'er their colour be,They lecture till they make us sicken,Lectures write they wondrous easily,From books they've read they take the Picken.While the Prof. Board chairman bores the English class,His farmyard knowledge is profound.Easterfield and Kirk'sScientific workMakes its perfume noticed all around,Makes its perfume noticed all around;And if you go to Justin's lectures,You'll hear the students softly snore.But spite their eccentricity, &c.We have two new Scottish importations,Both unfathomed to the present,One can use no means of educationBut the Kindergarten lesson.Another new Professor—Hunter of renown,With dignity and screw increased.So hard-worked are theyThat they said one dayWhy not strike against our present lotLike miners on the Coast ? Why not ? Why not ?So Von tossed up his famous penny,And now the Profs. have ceased to toil.But spite their eccentricity, &c.
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Chorus of Professors.
Air: "Or When Patrotic Sentiment is Wanted (Mikado.)We're a badly treated body of professors;The pay we get is really a disgraceThough at lecturing perhaps we may be messers,They need not tell us so before our face.Our hours are long and ought to be adjusted,For at ten we get away but not before,And in fact we're so annoyed and so disgustedWe've really had enough and we will work no more.But we've found a remedy for this disgraceful state of things,For we have gone on strike and we will work no more.The holidays we get should be much longer,We only get six months in all the year;For our lectures our voices should be stronger,And gramophones should be provided here,Our dignity is greatly underrated.The students' insults hurt us to the core,And the Council are so very antiquatedThey've given us the spike and we will work no more.But we have found, &c.The students after little agitationObtained a social building of their own,But the professorial need for recreationThis seems to be a thing as yet unknown,We asked them most politely and discreetlyTo provide for us a billiard saloon.But North harangued the Council so completelyThey lost their heads and so we struck this afternoon.But we've found, &c.
Chorus.
With Solos by Professor Watt-Buncombe and Dr. Phin Leigh.Air: "Tarantara Chorus" (Pirates of Penzance.)Chorus of Profs.: We have heard your learned speech,How you earnestly beseechThat we now return to work,And our tasks no longer shirk.For your system is so sound,It completely brought us round;So that now you may presumeThat our lectures we'll resume,That our lectures we'll resume.Tarantara (as in Pirates).Watt-Buncombe : Travel Eastward, travel westward,Ever have I travelled onward,Searching lands to North and Southward,For a perfect social scheme.Found I here this man of wisdom,Glad am I I have not missed him,
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With his splendid social system,Fitting ev'ry perfect state.Students: 'Tis a splendid social system,Fitting ev'ry perfect state.Chorus of Profs. : Yes, to us it's evident,That by Providence was sentSuch an educated manTo present his social plan.So to work we'll now return,Teaching students how to learn,For to us it's evidentThat by Providence he's sent.Tarantara (as in Pirates).Watt-Buncombe : Go and use your best endeavour,Go to labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Students: Go ye back to lectures now.Go and use your best endeavour,Go to labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Chorus of Profs. : Oh ! we lived a dismal life,Full of bickering and strife,For we really were ill-used,And we ought to be excused.For with spirits getting low,To no Phin Leigh could we go;So like miners out of luck,With alacrity we struck.Yes, like miners out of luck,With alacrity we struck.Out of luck,So we struck.Out of luck,Ah ! yes, we struck.Watt-Buncombe : Go and use your best endeavour,Go and labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Go and use your best endeavour,Go and labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Go Professors, go ye back to lectures now.Go Professors, go ye back to lectures now,Go to labour on for ever.Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Students: Go Professors,Go to lectures,Go ye, go yeTo your lectures.
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Go and use your best endeavour,Go to labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Go Professors, go ye back to lectures now.Go Professors, go ye back to lectures now.Go to labour on for ever,Show them that you're really clever,Go ye back to lectures now.Chorus of Profs.: We have heard your learned speech, tarantara, tarantaraHow you earnestly beseech, tarantara,That we now return to work, tarantara, tarantara,And our tasks no longer shirk, tarantara.For your system is so sound, tarantara, tarantara,It completely brought us round, tarantara,So that now you may presume.That our lectures we'll resume,That our lectures we'll resume, tarantara.Profs. : Tarantara, tarantara, &c,Tarantara, ra, ra, ra, &c.Phin Leigh : Return to work!Profs. : Yes, yes, we go!Phin Leigh : No longer shirk!Profs. : Tarantara.Phin Leigh : Then do not stay.Profs : Tarantara.Phin Leigh : Then why this delay ?Profs. : All right we go.Watt-Buncombe: To lectures now they go !Students: To lectures now they go !Profs.: To lectures now we go, to lectures now we go.Phin Leigh : Yes, but you don't go!Watt-Buncombe : To work they go, to lectures now they go !Students: To work they go, to lectures now they go!Profs. : To work we go, to lectures now we go, to lectures now we go!Phin Leigh : Yes, but you don't go!Watt Buncombe : At last they go, at last they go, at last they go ! to lectures now they go.Phin Leigh : At last they go, at last they go, to lectures now they really go.Students: At last they go, at last they go, at last they go, to lectures now they really go.Profs.: We go, we go, we go, we go, we go, we go, we go, we go.
Chorus.
Air: "Men of Harlech."Sons and daughters of Zealandia,Know ye aught that could be grander,Than the labour for ZealandiaBy the pioneer ?
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By his toil midst tribulations,Help'd he later generationsMake a name amongst the nationsFor Zealandia here.How can we reward him ?Only can we laud him.Whoso heeds his noble deeds,Will ever praise accord him,'Tis the sturdy pioneer,Made us here, a people freer;Praise the noble pioneer,Proud Zealandia.In these heroes' footsteps glorious,Have we leaders ruling o'er us,Over ev'ry strife victorious,Worthy of our praise.Worthy of our adoration,Is the statesman's high vocation,Guiding people of the nationThrough the social maze.Thanks to those who lead us,Ev'ry state will heed us.Love of gold will never holdThe minds of who succeed us.Art and Wisdom be arrayed here,Peace and Freedom ne'er will fade here,We shall found a true Arcadia.Proud Zealandia.Air— "The Old Brigade."Just one stave more and the song is done,A stave for the olden time;One age has passed, and the age to comeIs the age of the golden prime !So praise we men who have passed away,Who hold to a legend bold;Whatever a sordid world may say,Wisdom is more than gold.Chorus.
So when we are singing of College,Singing the songs of old,Think of the past,Hold to the last,That it's wisdom that's more than gold !For this is the burden of the world,Which it speaketh day by dayThough many a worldly lip be curledWith a sheer that it does not pay :In our ears is the voice of a Mammon age,In our hearts is a tale that's old,The tale of our garnered heritage—The wisdom that's more than gold !
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