1916 Yearbook
Source URL
Title
1916 Yearbook
Description
THE DAILY LOAF.
THE COLLEGE BAND
(By 'Jim')
When I'm exuding columns,
Of odd Ambrosiion jest,
It gives me creeps and horrors
Way down beneath my vest,
To have our band across the hall
To play with ghoulish zest.
It gives me wheeping willies
The fan-tods and the blues,
And sadness creeps along my keel
And overflows my shoes,
Until I vain must hie me forth
And saturate some bues.
"Ta-ra-ra" goes a cornet,
And "twee-del-dee" a fife,
A tuba ump-pahs now and then
As trombones come to life,
And mingle with the melody
In cacophonic strife.
A piccolo gets peevish
And shrills a sharp complaint,
While the drummer gets St. Vitus'
And hits 'em where they aint,—
Oh, do you wonder that a man
Grows weary, weak and faint?
And just as I have cranked my mill
Our band across the way,
Begins to tune their instruments
To, as they call it, play;
And bingo-goes my line of thought,
And blooie-all I'd say.
They give me Sousa, ding his hide,
And Berlin, darn his spine;
And why afflatus here is flat,
And of the earthly earth.
And as I was inventing stuff
And as you might say, jest,
It gave me creeps and horrors,
And sadness 'neath my vest,
To have our Band across the hall
To play (?) with ghoulish zest.
The Stars and Bars Forever,
Or, almost that long, they whine,
And the tuneless tunes of lyric loons
And other crimes are mine.
And that is why this Annual
Is not replete with mirth,
Nor clustered up with gems of thought,
And chuncks of wonderful worth,
THE DAILY LOAF
Gives you that Fuzzy, Wuzzy,
Wizzy, Woozey Feeling.
Try It Once. Nothing Like It.
Your Copy Here. *
TO THE EDITOR
The only one striving after the honor,
this newspaper is DEDICATED.
THE MID-YEAR EXAMS
When winds of February are blowing,
When mid-night lamps are glowing,
And college days seem barren, cold, and
dead,
You bone and bone at night
Strong coffee at your right,
To get some foolish theory through your
head.
All books not yet molested
Are pulled from shelves sequestered;
You cram and ram and — with all your
might;
You get no time for shirking,
You brace and start a-working,
But other thoughts put studies soon to
flight.
Your mind soon turns to sports,
To sleds and snow-ball forts,
You think of life beyond the college
And as you sit a-dreaming,
The sun comes up a-beaming,
You take the quiz—one sad, long tale.
"JIM."
pale,'
THE PRAYER OF THE AMBROSIAN
STAFF
(At the Banquet)
0 Lord, make us able,
To eat all that's on the table;
1 know we can do it,
If we only stick to it.
TONIGHT
At Hibernian Hall
George Volz
Will Lecture on
"The Bottom of the Sea"
(A pretty deep subject
for a German)
TONIGHT
College Auditorium
Coonan & Ryan, Inc.
In a Little Skit
Why We Came to St. Ambrose
or
The Longest Way 'round is the
Shortest Way Here
THE COLLEGE BAND
(By 'Jim')
When I'm exuding columns,
Of odd Ambrosiion jest,
It gives me creeps and horrors
Way down beneath my vest,
To have our band across the hall
To play with ghoulish zest.
It gives me wheeping willies
The fan-tods and the blues,
And sadness creeps along my keel
And overflows my shoes,
Until I vain must hie me forth
And saturate some bues.
"Ta-ra-ra" goes a cornet,
And "twee-del-dee" a fife,
A tuba ump-pahs now and then
As trombones come to life,
And mingle with the melody
In cacophonic strife.
A piccolo gets peevish
And shrills a sharp complaint,
While the drummer gets St. Vitus'
And hits 'em where they aint,—
Oh, do you wonder that a man
Grows weary, weak and faint?
And just as I have cranked my mill
Our band across the way,
Begins to tune their instruments
To, as they call it, play;
And bingo-goes my line of thought,
And blooie-all I'd say.
They give me Sousa, ding his hide,
And Berlin, darn his spine;
And why afflatus here is flat,
And of the earthly earth.
And as I was inventing stuff
And as you might say, jest,
It gave me creeps and horrors,
And sadness 'neath my vest,
To have our Band across the hall
To play (?) with ghoulish zest.
The Stars and Bars Forever,
Or, almost that long, they whine,
And the tuneless tunes of lyric loons
And other crimes are mine.
And that is why this Annual
Is not replete with mirth,
Nor clustered up with gems of thought,
And chuncks of wonderful worth,
THE DAILY LOAF
Gives you that Fuzzy, Wuzzy,
Wizzy, Woozey Feeling.
Try It Once. Nothing Like It.
Your Copy Here. *
TO THE EDITOR
The only one striving after the honor,
this newspaper is DEDICATED.
THE MID-YEAR EXAMS
When winds of February are blowing,
When mid-night lamps are glowing,
And college days seem barren, cold, and
dead,
You bone and bone at night
Strong coffee at your right,
To get some foolish theory through your
head.
All books not yet molested
Are pulled from shelves sequestered;
You cram and ram and — with all your
might;
You get no time for shirking,
You brace and start a-working,
But other thoughts put studies soon to
flight.
Your mind soon turns to sports,
To sleds and snow-ball forts,
You think of life beyond the college
And as you sit a-dreaming,
The sun comes up a-beaming,
You take the quiz—one sad, long tale.
"JIM."
pale,'
THE PRAYER OF THE AMBROSIAN
STAFF
(At the Banquet)
0 Lord, make us able,
To eat all that's on the table;
1 know we can do it,
If we only stick to it.
TONIGHT
At Hibernian Hall
George Volz
Will Lecture on
"The Bottom of the Sea"
(A pretty deep subject
for a German)
TONIGHT
College Auditorium
Coonan & Ryan, Inc.
In a Little Skit
Why We Came to St. Ambrose
or
The Longest Way 'round is the
Shortest Way Here
Date
1916
Rights
St. Ambrose University, 518 W. Locust St., Davenport, IA 52803
Identifier
http://cdm16810.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/p16810coll2/id/3517