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Victoria College Students' Carnival. Friday and Saturday, 29th & 30th June, 1906

Tableau IV.—The Tabloid Age

Tableau IV.—The Tabloid Age.

"Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same door where in I went."

Omar Khayyam.

Opening 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.

page 28

Professorial Pills.

"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.

ChorusBis.
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.

ChorusBis.
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.

ChorusBis.
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.

page 29

ChorusBis.
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.

ChorusBis.
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!

ChorusBis.
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.

ChorusBis.
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!

ChorusBis.
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!

ChorusBis.
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!

page 30

Chorus.

So quick of late the race of mind
That never mortal its speed's divined,
You turn a handle, a screw you wind,
And the brain works very well then.
We are climbing so fast by jump and hop
That we can't turn round and dare not stop,
We expect a smash when we reach the top:
But we'll all be lunatics then.

We've discarded ancient tables of stone,
We've discarded muscle and thew and bone;
And football and hockey are barbarous grown:
Though the games went very well once.
And all we ask is the sacred pill,
The sovereign cure for every ill;
The only way up knowledge hill,
Though the Profs. worked very well once.

In this future age the museum shelves
Will be graced with bits of our noble selves,
Reclaimed from the dust by the man who delves
And wires up the skeletons then.
By the side of Gilly, the great Von Von
Will softly creak to defunct Brown John,
Some interesting details of the late Sorbonne,
And the fate of heretics then.

Chorus.

Just one stave more and the song is done,
A stave for the olden 'time;
One age has passed and the age to come
Is 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!

page 31

For this is the burden of the world,
Which it speaketh day by day;
Though many a worldly lip be curled
With a sneer 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!

Women wearing traditional clothing and a umbrella

page break

WELLINGTON, N.Z: PRINTED BY PROGRESS PRINTING COMPANY, 96 CUBA STREET. 1906.