Aeroplane Song, Air—"Everybody's Doin' It Now."

Whirling, whirling, through the air,
Surrling, surrling here and there,
Like a ship at sea,
Twenty women we,
Up in an aeroplane, plain,
Fly, fly, fly, fly, never sink,
Shy, shy, shy, shy, we don't think;
If we're in the fash-
Ion and have a smash,
We'll just try it again.
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it,
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it.
Who's that fellow just behind a cloud,
With a voice that's very sweet though loud?
You could tell it even in a crowd,
It's Adam—it's Adam—it's Adam-son.
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it,
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it.
All the lads and nuts of the town,
Aitken, Stout, and John Rankin Brown,
Bob, bob, bob, bob up and down,
Everybody's doin' it now.

Picken, Picken, let her race,
Quicken, quicken up the pace
We have still to fly
Half way through the sky,
Ere we attain our aim, fame.
Pick, Pick, Pick, Pick, have a care,
Hurdles, hurdles, in the air,
Put there by the council to make us bounce,
It's a terrible shame.
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it,
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it.
Who's that cherub sitting up aloft,
With those features very sweet and soft ?
They're a kind you don't see very oft,
It's a Von, it's a Von, it's a Von—der
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it,
Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doing it.
We are bound in quest of man,
Find him, bind him, if we can,
It's a fashion Eve began,
Everybody's doin' it now,

"Wikitoria Hi."

Air: "Marching through Georgia."

Throw the ball about, my boys, we're on our game to-day,
On the fields of Miramar we'll show them how to play,
Punt and dribble like the College men of former day,
With our war-cry, "Wikitoria!"

Chorus:
For we're the boys who love the good old game,
For we're the boys to make a bid for fame,
We're ever keen, our football's clean,
We must let no one mar
The great traditions of Victoria.

We know no game is ever won until the whistle blows,
A motto we have all made clear to e'en the stoutest foes,
And though defeat may often greet the boys in emerald clothes,
Push and battle for Victoria.

Chorus : "For we're the boys," etc.

When hostile forwards siege our lines go down and stop the rush
The fending of the foemen do not let your tackles brush,
But find the line and turn them back and opposition crush,
Fighting for 'Varsity and Victoria.

Chorus : "For we're the boys," etc,

"Cinnamon."

Entr' Acte.

Miss Desperado's Dream of Justice in Atlantis, 1950.

"Such stuff as dreams are made of."

Caste:

Chorus of Nations: Ladies of Cheffield Choir.

"Dreams by the contrary always go."

Song of Enfranchised Women.

Air: "Land of Hope and Glory."

Justice, you know, once posed as blind,
And read not our decree,
But we her bandage did unwind
That she might clearer see.
Now we have found still yet a land
Where black the shadow lies,
Where Justice doth impotent stand
With her unseeing eyes.

Women of all nations, gather at the call,
Help to raise the wretched who are yet in thrall,
Fairer still and fairer will you make the world
With the flag of Franchise everywhere unfurled.

What of Atlantis 'cross the sea
Where Justice still is blind ?
Where womankind is still unfree—
Fettered in heart and mind—
Where yet the deeds they strive to do
As fretful thoughts remain?
Ah ! who will come to succour you
And Freedom for you gain?

Women of all nations, gather at the call,
Help to raise the weak ones, help them lest they fall
Winning still and winning, after many fights,
Justice, now all-seeing, gives us Women's Rights.

Justice, Atlantis taketh heart
And kneels no longer now,
But with her eager hands unties
The bandage from your brow.
What womankind has hoped for long
While you in darkness stayed,
Now that clear sight is given you
No more will be delayed.

Chorus:

Welcome to our ranks at last,
Fair Atlantis, fair Atlantis,
All your struggles now are past,
Fair Atlantis, fair Atlantis,
Ev'ry heart and ev'ry hand
In this cosmopolite band
Welcomes thee to Suffrage-land,
Fair Atlantis, fair Atlantis.

Current Events.

Our profs. are most zealous reformers,
And wish to abolish all cram,
Exams, are offences enormous,
The Senate a horrible sham.
As yet they have not quite succeeded
In getting their own little way;
Reform is most urgently needed,
But the Chancellor must have his say.

Chorus:
It will all come right in the future,
A Chancellor new we shall get.
Then the profs, in their glee,
Will our "ploughing" decree,
Oh, thank heaven, that's not just yet.

The Motherland's greatly excited,
Because of the sweet suffragette,
Who wants to blow up poor benighted
Old Asquith and his Cabinet.
We all love her methods most dearly,
Revolvers and bombs she will use
To show you so gently, yet clearly,
The justice and force of her views.

Chorus:
It will all come right in the future,
For the "soft" sex will then mean the men,
When la femme rules the roost,
You will have to get used,
To her coming home after ten.

At Easter a Carnival splendid
Was held in our city so gay,
Alas ! what is "broke" can't be mended,
So now there's the devil to pay.
For just how to spend all the money
Is puzzling the Council a lot;
John Crewes wants to buy the bears honey,
The other proposals are rot.^*

Chorus:
It will all come right in the future,
Though at present we cannot say when,
If all get their dues,
It's "Good-bye, Mr. Crewes,"
You will have to begin again.

There's a building (?) we call Lambton Station,
Where trains can come in by the score^†
It's an object of much admiration,
And measures quite twenty by four.
But Massey has promised us lately,
He'll steadily keep it in view,
He'll build us one splendid and stately
Of white stone from far Oamaru.

Chorus:
It will all come right in the future,
The Government blandly declares,
A station we'll get—
Though, of course not just yet,
But perhaps in a hundred years.

Jolly Students.

Air: "The Mermaid."

On a bleak ugly bank at the summit of the hill,
Looking proudly down on the sea,
Where the winds are a' blowing, when the town is warm and still,
Stands the pile that is dearest to me, to me, to me,
Stands the Pile that is dearest to me.

Chorus.
While the winter moon shines soft,
Or the raging winds do blow,
And we jolly students all a-swatting up aloft,
And the plebes are a-sleeping down below, below, below,
And the plebes are a-sleeping down below.

There is learning to spare to be taken if you will,
There is play enough for all;
Of Arts, Law, or Science, we can take our mental fill,
Then retire to the joys of bat or ball, or ball, or ball,
Then retire to the joy's of bat or ball.

There are swats who with work lying heavy on their soul
Take the Coll. for a glorified school;
There are savages in hundreds who will speed the flowing bowl,
While the swats are a-swatting up a rule, a rule, a rule,
While the swats are a-swatting up a rule.

Then join, join with me in a merry, merry lay,
To the Coll. enshrined in our heart,
To the mem'ries of works of acquaintance and of play,
To the day, far away, that we must part, must part, must part,
To the day, far away, that we must part.

So here's to the friends that at College we have made,
And here's to the faces we have missed;
And here's to the pastimes that at College we have played,
And here's to the girls that we have kissed, have kissed, have kissed.
And here's to the girls that we have kissed.

"Yes, but the girls at College are not what they used to be "—From an affidavit by Percy, in "Picken v. Students' Association."