THE CHARGE OF THE GOWNSMEN.
A Reminiscence of the Anti-Tobacco Lecture.
(The Metre has been kindly lent for the occasion by the Poet Laureate).
To the "Star," through the "Star,"
Up the "Star" staircase—
Into the Assembly Room,
Crowded the Gownsmen.
Some one cried, "Chaff the cad!"
Forward they went like mad—
None knew exactly why—
All wished a lark to try—
E'en 'neath the Proctor's eye—
Into the Assembly Room.
On went the Gownsmen.
'Baccy to right of them,
'Baccy to left of them,
'Baccy in front of them,
Densely surrounds men!
Howled at by cad and scout,
Ordered by Proctors out,
Still they pressed onwards well,
Raising a stifling smell,
Into the "Star" Hotel,
To the Assembly Room,
Hastened the Gownsmen.
Flashed every weed alight,
Showed every gownsman fight,
Hitting to left and right,
Checking the Proctor, and
Milling the Townsmen.
Flew Academic blows,
Smashing the civic nose,
Strong was the smoke, and thick,
Making the Lect'rer sick—
Then from the Assembly Room,
Down the stairs, down the stairs,
Bolted the Gownsmen!
Peelers to right of them,
Proctors to left of them,
Pro.'s on the rear of them,
Mingled with Townsmen!
Out of the "Star Hotel",
Those who had smoked so well,
Thro' the Turl—through the High
Mizzled the Gownsmen!
Still shall the tale be told,
When Private Halls are old,
How was that Lect'rer sold
By the fierce Gownsmen!
I am indebted to the courtesy of an unknown correspondent for the following parody, which was recited by Major Wilson after a banquet given in honor of the Anniversary of the Birth of Robert Burns, at the Caledonian Club, Leadville, Colorado:—