Victoria College Students' Carnival. Concert Chamber, Town Hall. Thursday and Friday, June 30th and July 1st, 1910
"Evolution
"Evolution.
Air: "Little Mary." (The Orchid.)
Some many weary years ago, I climbed to V.C. hill.
A simple Freshman. A simple Freshman.
My destiny seemed plain to me, a Rhodes Schol. bill to fill,
Though still, a Freshman, a simple Freshman.
I swore my burning ardour I would never let grow cold.
Consulted dons and sporting Vons and many students old,
Their kind advice was awf'ly nice, join ev'ry club, they told
To me a Freshman, a simple Freshman.
Freshman, Freshman, happy, simple Freshman.
Ere long each sec. will have your pound of flesh, man
If you wish to join a club,
Just hand 'em up your sub.,
You'll soon be a bankrupt Freshman.
To make my name redound with fame I first set out to play
A game of football, a game of football.
I'd prove to all both great and small, that I knew how to play
A game of fooball, a game of football.
But when down the field the Melrose pack like lightning slipping sped
I boldly dived to stop the rush and stopped it with my head,
And saw the comet blazing bright for three days from my bed
Through playing football, a game of football.
Football, Football. A dainty game is football.
Even bonny Prof. MacKenzie might play football,
He would surely rise to fame
(If he bought a rubber frame),
Eh mon! he'd be grand at football.
When K. of K. came round this way, he spurred me to enlist,
In Rawdon's Rangers, in Rawdon's Rangers.
I felt that I would add that tone till now so sadly missed.
In Rawdon's Rangers, in Rawdon's Rangers.
As the bugle sounded gaily, I was ready for the show,
When Rawdon said "Fall in my boys!" I shouted back "Right Ho!"
And maybe that's the reason why I since have had to go,
From Rawdon's Rangers.—From Rawdon's Rangers.
Rangers, Rangers, Rawdon's Roving Rangers,
We pass each other now as total strangers.
If you ever wish to sneeze
Say "Captain may I please?"
"Have a sneeze amongst the Rangers."
For Cloves, Sox or Ties go to Wallace and Gibson's Willis Street.
Tho' Master of Arts of various parts I felt I must acquire,
The art of Boxing, the art of Boxing.
Some day I guess before I die I surely would require,
The art of Boxing, the art of Boxing.
I studied "Burns on Boxing"—swotted Spalding "How to Spar"
(But when it comes to practising you don't know where you are),
I'd rather be Jack Johnson in his speedy motor-car,
Than when he's boxing—Jack Johnson Boxing.
Boxing, Boxing, the noble art of Boxing.
The way most people learn the art of Boxing
Is to take it round by round
Mostly lying on the ground
Waiting the ringing of the Tocsin*
But now my youthful days are spent, I want a little peace.
I take on bowling, the game of bowling.
At Thorndon green may "lying" well and "kissing" never cease,
When I am bowling, when I am bowling.
I roll my ball, I wave my legs, I wriggle in the air,
I play the game and always win although I may look queer,
I even beat dear Mr. Quick, so young, so debonnaire.
When he is bowling, so gently bowling.
Bowling, Bowling, the graceful art of bowling.
I've found my forte at last, that forte is bowling.
You may skate or box or run,
Kick a ball or shoot a gun,
They are nought compared with bowling.
* Toscin.—[F. fr. of., toquier to touch. F. toquer (originally a dialectic form of F. toucher). Slint (for sein) a bell. LL. signum. Fr. L. Signum—a sign, signal.] A time bell rung at the end of each round in pugilistic encounters.