It was early Monday morning, and the day be calm and fine, To the Harbour Grace excursion, with the boys to have a time; And just before the sailor pulled the gangway from the pier, I saw some fella haul me wife on board as a Volunteer.
We had three hundred souls on board, oh what a splendid sight, Matt Strong in regimentals, to make our spirits bright; With meself being in the double, with the funny things they'd say, And they'd choke themselves from laughing, when they see us in the bay.
Now, me wife she got no better, she turned a sickly green, I fed her cake and candy, fat pork and kerosene; Castor-oil and sugar of candy, I rubbed pure-oil on her face, And they said she'd be a dandy, when she reaches Harbour Grace.
Oh, she died below the Brandies, as we were coming back, We buried her in the ocean, wrapped up in the Union Jack; And now I am a single man, in search of a pretty face, And the woman who says she'll have me, sure I'm off for Harbour Grace.
They were essentially an all-day party attended by hundreds of people, in which they would all travel together by train or boat and then do activities at the destination.