THE PRINCE’S WET-NURSE.

Our contemporaries are wrong in stating that the individual to whom the post of wet-nurse has been assigned is nothing but a housemaid.  We have full authority to state that she is no maid at all, but a respectable married woman.

THE PRINCE’S HONOURS.

His Royal Highness has not yet been created a Knight of the Garter, though Sir James Clark insisted on his being admitted to the Bath, against which ceremony the infant Prince entered a vociferous protest.

The whole of the above particulars may be relied on as having been furnished from the very highest authority.

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A BARROWKNIGHT.

SIR WILLOUGHBY COTTON, during his visit to the Mansion-House Feast, in a moment of forgetfulness after the song of “Hurrah for the Road,” being asked to take wine with the new Lord Mayor, declined the honour in the genuine long-stage phraseology, declaring he had already whacked his fare, and was quite

[Illustration:  FULL INSIDE.]

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MAGISTERIAL AXIOMS.

VIDE POLICE REPORTS.

An Irishman will swear anything.—­Mr. Grove.

A man who wears long hair is capable of anything.—­Sir Peter Laurie.

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THE ROYAL BULLETINS.

The documents lately shown at Buckingham Palace are spurious, and the real ones have been suppressed from party motives, which we shall not allude to.  The following are genuine; they relate only to the Prince, the convalescence of Her Majesty being, we are glad to say, so rapid as to require no official notice.

Half-past Twelve.

The Prince has sneezed, and it is believed has smiled, though the nurses are unable to pronounce whether the expression of pleasure arose from satisfaction or cholic.

Quarter past One.

The Prince has passed a comfortable minute, and is much easier.

Two O’Clock.

The Prince is fast asleep, and is more quiet.

Half-past Two.

The Prince has been shown to Sir Robert Peel, and was very fretful.

Three O’Clock.

Sir Robert Peel has left the Palace, and the Prince is again perfectly composed.

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DEVILLED DRUMSTICKS.

Our own Sir Peter Laurie, upon witnessing the extraordinary performance of little Wieland in Die Hexen am Rhein, at the Adelphi Theatre, was so transported with his diabolic agility, that he determined upon endeavouring to arrive at the same perfection of pliability.  As a guide for his undertaking, he instantly despatched old Hobler for a folio edition of