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Professorial Pills.

Air—"Six Little Wives."—San Toy.

"Some said John printed, others said no."

—Bunyans Pil. Progress.

Solo—
O! my name was John Brown when my life first began;
I'm an Oxford don and a dinky man:
And my life is all a classical pose,
And my sole delight is a Latin prose;
My delight Ciceronian prose.

Chorus—Bis.
Bow down, bow down to the great John Brown;
Keep clear of all term exam "spills":
Use his one little—two little—three little—four little—five little [unclear: classic I] pills!

"Sing 'Booh to you—Pooh, pooh to you!" and that's what I shall say." —Patience.

O! my name it is Mac, and my voice it is crack;
I'm the real Mackay if it's culture you lack;
My lectures are what you may safely forget—
Being points that will never, O never be set,
Being points that will never be set.

Chorus—Bis.
Bow wow, pooh-pooh to the mighty Hugh—
Kow tow to whatever he wills;
With his one little—two little—three little—four little-five little sweet Saxon pills!

"The world is but a broken toy,
It's pleasures hollow—false its joy."

—Princess Ida.

O! my name is Maclaurin—I feel rather bored:
I used to toil once, but I've got my reward:
LL.D. doncherknow, and 'twould be infra dig
To trouble myself, so I simply look big;
Don't trouble myself but look big.

Chorus—Bis.
O bend the knee to our LL.D.—
He's entitled to put on his frills;
With his one little—two little—three little—four little—five little cubic-root pills.

"My morals have been declared particularly correct." —Mikado.

O! my name is Von Zed-litz of powder the said:
My blood's Oxford blue and I'm faultlessly bred.
They say I'm a hard-case—it's my little way;
And I know what is what, and the time of the day—
And I know the time of the day.

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Chorus—Bis.
Bow low, bow low to our Oxford beau,
And drink in the lore he distills
With his one little—two little—three little—four little—five little powdered pills!

"Comparisons are odorous." —Much Ado about Nothing.

Our names they are Easterfield and Kirk—
An odour of sanctity hallows our work,
From gases and frogs and rabbits a few,
And the air's often pink but mostly blue—
Often pink but mostly blue.

Chorus—Bis.
Make room, make room, for the latest perfume:
But don't take too much, or it kills—
Ugh! Their one little—two little—three little—four litle sulphurate-hydrogen pills!

Chorus—Bis.
O! my name's Tommy Hunter of footballing fame;
I'm Richmond who "settled" Justinian's name.
One's a bitter wee pill that Petone won't take,
The other's a pill that won't keep you awake—
A pill that won't keep you awake.

"There be seven Richmond's in the field." —Richard III.

Chorus—Bis.
O pay your court to law and sport,
They'll remedy all of your ills;
With his one little referee—two little—three little—four little somnolent pills!

"I've a bright intellectual brain—
In Wellington City
There's no man so witty—
I've thought so again and again."

—Ruddigore.

O my name it is Salmond, of Continent fame:
As for Austin and Dicey I've snuffed out their flame;
I'm the greatest King's Counsel that ever you saw,
For I proved King Solomon a bachelor,—
King Sol was a gay bachelor!

Chorus—Bis.
So let's all agree with our great K.C.;
And don't be too "late" for his bills—
Try his one hundred—two hundred—three hundred—
Four hundred—five hundred Solomon pills!

Chorus—Bis.
Their object all sublime they will achieve in time,
To make the masses to College climb, to College gaily climb;
And make each student digest,
With alacrity and zest.
His Law and Latin with sugar dressed
And into a capsule pressed!