The following is the last and best that we have heard of the above-named gentleman.  We should premise, that, the details of it are a little altered, with the view of adapting it to “ears polite;” for without some process of this kind, it would not have been presentable.  A lady went to the doctor in great distress of mind, and stated to him, that, by a strange accident, she had swallowed a live spider.  At first, his only reply was, “whew! whew! whew!” a sort of internal whistling sound, intended to be indicative of supreme contempt.  But his anxious patient was not so easily to be repulsed.  She became every moment more and more urgent for some means of relief from the dreaded effect of the strange accident she had consulted him about; when, at last, looking round upon the wall, he put up his hand and caught a fly.  “There, ma’am,” said he, “I’ve got a remedy for you.  Open your mouth; and as soon as I’ve put this fly into it, shut it close again; and the moment the spider hears the fly buzzing about, up he’ll come; and then you can spit them both out together.”

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LISTON PLAYING MOLL FLAGGON.

An Acrostic.

  Lovesick people e’en will smile,
  In spite of cares, and for the while
    Sadness will not lag on:
  Tic dolereux will lose its power
  On facial nerves for half an hour,
    Now Listen plays Moll Flaggon.

J. S. C.

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INTENSE COLD.

At Astracan, Feb. 19, the cold was 28 deg. below the zero of Reaumur.

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ROYAL POET.

A volume of poems by the King of Bavaria has just been published at Munich, the profits of which are to be given to an institution devoted to the blind.

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The late Mr. Henry Hase succeeded Abraham Newland, as cashier at the Bank of England.  Newland is buried in St. Saviour’s Church, Southwark.  The lyrical celebrity of Abraham Newland will not be forgotten in our times.

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ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.

A fine white lion and the largest bear died here last week.  This bear was the largest of the three in the pit, and was considered to have been the finest in England.  He usually seized the largest share of cakes and fruit, and snorted and snarled whenever his companions secured any.  He had latterly grown so fat that he could with difficulty ascend the pole; and after eating his usual breakfast, he expired suddenly.  Like many other animals we could name, his greatness was his mortal foe—­and as Hume grew too pursy to write, so our four-footed friend became too gross to climb.  Toby, with all his ill-treatment and attachment to strong ale, is still alive and well.