Dr. Locock was sent for from town, who, immediately on his arrival at Windsor, held a conference with Sir J. Clarke, and a basin of pap was prepared by them, which being administered to the Royal Infant, produced the most satisfactory results.

We are prohibited from stating the measures taken for the detection of the ruffian, lest their disclosure should frustrate the ends of justice.

* * * * *

A ROYAL DUCK.

His Royal Highness Prince Albert, during the sojourn of the Court at Windsor Castle, became, by constant practice in the Thames, so expert a swimmer, that, with the help of a cork jacket, he could, like Jones of the celebrated firm of “Brown, Jones, and Robinson,” swim “anywhere over the river.”  Her Majesty, however, with true conjugal regard for the safety of the royal duck, never permitted him to venture into the water without

[Illustration:  A COMPANION OF THE BATH.]

* * * * *

HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS.

Michelly, of the Morning Post, was boasting to Westmacott of his intimate connexion with the aristocracy.  “The area-stocracy, more likely,” replied the ex-editor of the Argus.

* * * * *

GREAT ANNUAL MICHAELMAS JUBILEE.

MAGNIFICENT CELEBRATION OF GOOSE-DAY.

How often are we—­George Stephens-like—­to be called upon to expend our invaluable breath in performing Eolian operations upon our own cornopean!  Here have we, at an enormous expense and paralysing peril, been obliged to dispatch our most trusty and well-beloved reporter, to the fens in Lincolnshire, stuffed with brandy, swathed in flannel, and crammed with jokes; from whence he, at the cost of infinite pounds, unnumbered rheumatisms, and a couple of agues, caught, to speak vulgarly, “in a brace of shakes,” has forwarded us the following authentic account of the august proceedings which took place in that county on the anniversary of the great St. Michaelmas.

FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.

Tuesday night.—­Depths of the fens—­just arrived—­only time to state all muck—­live eels and festivity—­Sibthorp in extra force—­betting 6 to 4 “he cooks everybody’s goose”—­no takers—­D’Israeli says it’s a gross want of sympathy—­full account to-morrow—­expect rare doings—­must conclude—­whrr-rh-h—­tertian coming on—­promises great shakes.

I am, sincerely and shiveringly,

YOUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.

Wednesday morning.—­The day dawned like a second deluge, and the various volunteer dramatis personae seemed like the spectres of the defunct water-dogs of Sadler’s Wells.  An eminent tallow-chandler from the east end of Whitechapel contracted for the dripping, and report says he found it a very swimming speculation.  Life-preservers, waterproof and washable hats, were on the ground, which, together with Macintoshes and corks, formed a pleasing and varied group.  The grand stand was graced by several eminent and capacious geese; nor was the infantine simplicity of numerous promising young goslings wanting to complete the delightful ensemble.