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 Board
Would 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 taught
By a Prof. who speaks a foreign tongue
Whose 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's
Scientific work
Makes 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 education
But the Kindergarten lesson.
Another new Professor—Hunter of renown,
With dignity and screw increased.
So hard-worked are they
That they said one day
Why not strike against our present lot
Like 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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