Or pluck red-currants on some summer day, Then take of raspberries an equal part, Add cream and sugar--can mere words convey The luscious joys of this delightful tart? Is Lunch worth lunching? If such cates should fail, Go out of country bread a solid hunch, Pile on it cheese, wash down with country ale, And, faring plainly, yet enjoy thy lunch. Yea, this is truth, the lunch of knife and fork, The pic-nic lunch, spread out upon the earth, Lunches of beef, bread, mutton, veal, or pork, All, all, without exception all, are worth! * * * * * NINETY-NINE OUT OF A HUNDRED CANDIDATES MUST BE "PILLED."--The Living of "Easington-with-Liverton, Yorkshire, worth L600 per annum," is vacant. Is it in the gift of the celebrated Dr. COCKLE? or of Dr. CARTER, of Little-Liverpill-Street fame? * * * * * [Illustration: "BACK!"] * * * * * 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.] [Illustration] 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. * * * * * SONGS OUT OF SEASON. NO. II.--KEW-RIOUS! It's a pleasure worth the danger, Deems your gorgeous DE LA PLUCHE, To become the main arranger Of a drive in your barouche; And your Coachman, honest JOE too, When approached thereon by JEAMES, Doesn't say exactly "no," to Such inviting little schemes.