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 other
Can be found alike it underneath the sun, 'neath the sun
Oh ! 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,

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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.