PLAYFUL HEIFERVESCENCE AT HAWARDEN.
[Mr. GLADSTONE met with an extraordinary adventure in Hawarden Park one day last week. A heifer, which had got loose, made for Mr. GLADSTONE as he was crossing the park, and knocked him down. Mr. GLADSTONE took refuge behind a tree. The heifer scampered off, and was subsequently shot.]
G.O.M. sings:—
How happy could I be with heifer,
If sure it were only her play.
Is't LABBY? or Labour? Together
In one? I'll get out of the way.
Singing (to myself)—With my tol de rol de rol LABBY, &c.
She comes! On her horns she is playing
A tune with a nourish or two!
No cow-herd am I but my staying
To play second fiddle won't do.
Singing (to myself)—With my tol de rol tol-e-rate LABBY, &c.
Don't chivey her! I would allot her
"Three acres," and lots of sweet hay.
Alas! while I'm talking, they've shot her!
Well! heifers, like dogs, have their day!
Singing (to myself, as before)—With my tol lol de rol-licking LABBY, &c.
Latest.—After dinner, Mr. GLADSTONE fell asleep in his chair! He was seen to smile, although his repose seemed somewhat disturbed. Presently he was heard to murmur melodiously the words of the old song, slightly adapted to the most recent event,—"Heifer of thee I'm fondly dreaming!" Then a shudder ran through his frame as he pronounced softly a Latin sentence; it was "Labor omnia vincit!" Then he awoke.